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Falling Stars (Starstruck Series Book 2)

Page 13

by Krys Janae


  “Hey guys! This is Evie Lewis here in San Diego with my friends Joann and Alisa. We’re just outside …”

  Alisa stood beside her friend who was hosting her video log on her online channel. She put on the expected Hollywood smile and pretended like she was having fun. She tuned her out as Evie rambled on about what they’d seen and heard at the convention. There were four episodes of Family Insurance left before the holiday, and she was thankful for that. There’d been so much piled on her plate since the movie tasks were beginning.

  “…What has been your favorite part of the city so far?”

  “I’ve met up with some great people, been to fantastic restaurants, and had a blast attending the convention. I have never been to one before. Seeing people from all walks of life meet up and interact with one another has been so refreshing. I remember …”

  Part of Alisa was proud of Joann. When they were younger, she wasn’t able to form a coherent sentence in speech class, much less in front of a camera with thousands of viewers watching.

  “What about you, Miss Alisa; what’s your takeaway from this visit?”

  “What a beautiful and inspiring scene it is here in San Diego. I’ve lived in California all my life, but I never had the opportunity to dive in and really get to know this place better. Everyone here has been amazingly friendly, and like Joann said, there are great places to dine, or just hang out and enjoy the view.” She was on autopilot. She hated pressing that button, but she was not exactly feeling this whole convention business.

  Alisa was sent to attend the panel for Gateway with the cast, including: “The Captain”, Brad Took, and one of the villains, Rhiannon Vincent. Logan had also been at the table. Evan was present as well, though only in attendance. Awkward didn’t even begin to describe how things felt.

  Still, Alisa managed to answer questions without getting flustered and interacted with her principle actors and Logan without fail. She considered that a great success.

  “All right folks, you heard it here! If you’re not wandering about the convention this weekend, make sure you check out everything downtown has to offer! Enjoy the …”

  There was that smile again. The words her friend was saying went in one ear and out the other. She wondered why Evie even invited her to be a part of the video. She was going to gain followers no matter what the content, since she’d just had that photo shoot with Fitness Monthly. Alisa kind of resented her perfect-figured friend, but at the same time didn’t have any desire to do a nearly naked photo shoot herself.

  “Cut!” Milo lowered the camera from his shoulder and gave them all the thumbs up. ”Beautiful. Beautiful! Thank you, ladies. We’ll have this uploaded tonight!”

  “Thanks, sweetie. Have a good one!” Evie hugged him.

  Milo waved at them all before he hopped into his car and drove away.

  Alisa looked at her watch, realizing it was time to report back. She was going to see the Family Insurance crew at her first convention.

  Several photo-ops, signings, interviews, and a massive dinner with the gang ate up the rest of her day, so Alisa decided to retreat to her room. The girls had given her the option to room with them, but she decided to go solo. She didn’t want to be a bother, and she had the money to accommodate herself, so she splurged.

  Evan text her several times to check in with her.

  Hey stranger.

  Hey.

  Are you coming out with everyone tonight? It’s our last night here.

  She was at the convention all four days, and since it was a packed itinerary, Alisa did more hiding than anything. Probably not. Editor wants me to finish up and get new one rolling.

  Come on, you’ve been cooped up in your tower all day.

  Sipping her wine, she laughed aloud. Evan had become notorious for making princess references.

  Does this mean you’re going to ask me to let down my hair?

  Only if you let me climb up.

  She set down her phone. Though a tempting offer to hang out with everyone, she was already turned in for the evening, and she needed rest. It was time for a shower. Alisa clicked on her mellow playlist and let the music run, stepping under the welcoming shower head which relaxed her aching muscles. She stood under the running water for a few minutes, rinsing the body wash from her skin.

  After towel-drying her hair, she dressed comfortably for the evening. Reaching for her phone, she saw that Evie and Joann wanted to kidnap her for a night out. She politely refused to party with the crazy single ones. Logan had sent her a message complimenting her on the outfit that Winnie, her stylist, had picked for her to wear to the panel. He’d attached a picture of him and the boys at the bar and gave her a play-by-play of what she was “missing”. She sighed and hit the delete button.

  Is he really just acting like nothing happened? Alisa asked herself.

  Just before she started to feel anxious over the situation, she breathed out slowly. Alisa had reserved this time to breathe. It was her time, free from stress, free from emails, free from sobriety. Accompanied by a fresh and delicious bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, as well as her laptop, Alisa sat out on her balcony. It was a cool night in the coastal city. Her room was six floors up, overlooking the sea, and a comforting breeze blew through her dark tresses.

  For hours she’d been staring at the same thing: a white screen. The Word software was open, and the cursor was flashing at her from the top of the empty document. It was time for her to start planning her next book. Cast outlining was usually where she started, but even now, with all of her experiences and sights seen – she had nothing to write.

  There was a knock at her door.

  It made her heart skip a beat; she wasn’t expecting company. The only people who knew she was there were Evie and Joann, and she’d just seen their check-in at a club downtown.

  Leaving the door chained, she pulled it open slightly. Peering in at her was a much unexpected face, making her shriek and jump back.

  “Ohmygod.”

  He laughed.

  “You scared the shit out of me.” She pulled the chain restraint from the door and let him in. As he entered, his very expensive Armani jacket fell to the floor. Alisa promptly picked it up and draped it neatly over the desk then rested her eyes on her guest.

  Evan Gable took two steps in and stumbled, bracing himself against the wall between the bed and the bathroom. “I knew you’d let me climb up.”

  “Oh no…” She uttered, “You’re drunk.”

  “I…am not.” Evan pointed at the ceiling, his eyes hazy.

  Reaching out to steady him, she got an eye-watering whiff of Jack Daniel’s, his proclaimed favorite. “You so are.”

  “Just had a few beers with the guy from that one production company with the…the vampire things, and then saw the guy from that hunting…”

  “Quin?” Her stomach spun, “You saw Quin? Who else was with him?”

  It was too late to turn back. She’d already spit out the words, though in his current state of mind, Evan probably wouldn’t be able to assemble the pieces.

  “Yeah, he was with his meathead friends, and I had drinks with the vampires.”

  “All right, killer, let’s get to the bed. You need to lie back and just take it easy, all right?”

  Alisa led him to the edge of the bed and encouraged him to lie back. She gently rested his head on a stack of pillows.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He tried to be playful and tickle her, but she stopped him from getting too out of control. She pinned his arms back over his head, restraining him. His eyes widened. “Ooh, well then.”

  “No! That’s not what I—” She blushed. “Evan … you need to just relax, understand? I’m gonna get you some ice water.”

  “I’ll just take another Jack and …”

  “Water. You’ll have a water.”

  The muscles in his face relaxed, and then he frowned.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here.” He proudly declared.
>
  Wrapping herself in a hoodie, she slipped on her shoes and marched outside.

  There was a group of twenty-somethings at the vending machine. They were a quiet bunch, until she’d filled her bucket to the brim and started back towards her room.

  “I heard Logan Rider is here alone.” One of the girls uttered.

  “Isn’t his wife here? Alisa, or whatever?” The other girl asked.

  “I dunno, but he was at the bar with Quin and Christian Neel!” The first girl responded.

  The pair of girls squealed, and the two boys who accompanied them groaned.

  “Get over it, girls. They’re never going to notice you.”

  “You never know. Hollywood guys are so—”

  Shutting the door behind her with some force, she came back to see Evan still lying on the bed. He had a dazed grin on his face that made it hard to keep from laughing. He patted the vacant spot on the bed beside him, and she took a seat.

  The two ended up watching and analyzing his movie Letting Go, which was, surprisingly, available on the hotel TV. She was shocked that he stayed awake for as long as he did, considering how drunk he was. The conversation he offered while inebriated was definitely entertaining.

  Evan had all but sobered up in the heat of the discussion, trying to defend the script (which he had co-written) to Alisa, who had some reservations about it.

  “I mean, I get why he said that to her, but what does that even mean?”

  “It means whatever will be, will be.”

  “Yeah, I know what that means but that’s like saying it is what it is…Man, I hate that saying.” Alisa clenched her fist, and he placed a reassuring hand over it. “Why not just say, nothing to see here, move along, kid, instead of giving her hope and promises for a future he can’t even guarantee?”

  Evan laughed. “Calm down, phrase police. It’s just a saying. You of all people should know a lot of these age-old catchphrases.”

  “Was that an age joke?” She narrowed her eyes.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I said nothing.”

  “I guess it’s sweet. I guess. Maybe I just wish …”

  When her voice trailed off, Evan’s ears perked up. “You wish what?”

  She could still smell the faint scent of Jack Daniel’s on his breath, and her nose crinkled. Alisa laughed. She shrugged too, letting her shoulders rise and fall loosely. “I guess I just wish more people were like Gordon. He’s chivalrous, polite, and upfront. There’s no real hidden agenda; it’s all cut and dry. Except when it comes to telling her that it is what it is. He buys her flowers, makes her breakfast … With all of the testosterone-infused machismo overflowing in the market, all of the action flicks; it’s refreshing to see stuff like this. A slice of life, if you will.”

  “So you’re saying you like flowers, and breakfast, and guys like Gordon?”

  Looking over at Evan, she let his question settle in. Logan was once like that; he made her breakfast the morning after blowing her mind in the bedroom. She remembered waking up wearing his shirt and nearly tumbling when she felt her feet hit the floor; her legs had been like Jell-O. She could still smell her spinach and mushroom omelet and toast. He’d even picked a flower from outside to put next to her plate. She remembered his smile, that gorgeous white smile. Logan had also showered her with gifts, notably sending her flowers when he was overseas. He would always check in on her when he was away, calling her by video to see her … but was that just because he was guilty?

  Ugh … well, it was a happy thought for a second.

  “Lis?” Evan waved.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little out of it today.”

  “Just today?” He nudged her.

  “Shush.” She chuckled and looked down at her feet stretched out beside his. He’d kicked off his shoes at some point. She noticed his bright socks at the end of his dark jeans.

  There it was again. The dawn of silence that opened up in the midst of good conversation. It happened a lot, but when it came to conversations with Evan, Alisa figured it happened more often than not. She tried not to lose herself in his eyes, but it was difficult.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Alisa walked into the restroom and shut the door behind her. She rested against the door and leaned her head back, exhaling audibly. When she turned towards the faucet, she took a hard look at herself in the mirror.

  What was she doing? She was married, for the second time in a matter of 7 years, and here she was again, unhappy. Alisa was at the age that made her question her judgment, her quality of life and most importantly, what she was going to do from that moment on. She had a single man in her room, a devilishly handsome one at that, and he was tempting her at every opportunity.

  A few minutes passed and she figured it was time enough spent away from her company, so she returned to the bedroom. Upon exiting the restroom, she pulled her hair out of the ponytail and ran a brush through it. It was too quiet. When she turned, she discovered Evan sleeping soundly in the middle of the bed, sprawled out comfortably. Alisa walked over and gently covered Evan with the comforter. She poured another glass of water and set it on the nightstand beside the bed then returned to her writing.

  The night had become cooler in the time she’d spent with Evan, but she didn’t mind it. She kept tightly wrapped in her hoodie and started in on the character outline like she had originally set out to do.

  Ian Holden, a musician.

  Sara Parkman, a writer.

  The cursor flashed, and she left the two names there for a few minutes before she wrote a short paragraph elaborating on their backgrounds.

  Ian Holden, a musician. Comes from a very rich family. Went to Boston Conservatory for music and is a master at the guitar and piano. Divorced. Meets Sara at an art exhibit in New York City and finds her in her hometown of San Francisco to get to know her.

  Sara Parkman, a writer. Very imaginative. Story mostly focuses on the narrative surrounding her life; divorced twice. Written a few scripts for short series and web and was a consultant on a children’s show. Still trying to find her perfect story.

  Jackson Charles, a triple threat: actor, writer, director. Friends with Sara since they were in the fourth grade. A friend who ultimately falls in love with her.

  This wasn’t like anything she’d written before. All of the content in her books fell into the science fiction or fantasy genres, so this was quite an intriguing turn. Was this too cliché? Was this too close to home? Her friends, notably Ray and Alex, would see right through this story as juxtaposition to her own life, but a lot of writers did that. She resisted the urge to select it all and delete it. It wasn’t a complete reflection, after all. It was a romantic dramedy she even had a title for: Falling Stars. It was going to show the dark side of life in the entertainment industry as well as the light side. The witty title could be assumedly based on the concept of wishing on a shooting star.

  Be careful what you wish for… was the tagline.

  Alisa took another sip of her wine. She had the glass by the stem and turned to see Evan still sprawled out and lightly snoring. The sight of him made her smile. It was strange but cute, she thought, and she was thankful he hadn’t thrown up on anything.

  Then her mind went wandering.

  If she had met Evan Gable before running into Logan Rider, or perhaps gone a different route instead of falling head over heels for someone who was out of her league, what would her life be like now? Perhaps she was destined to find the Kurt’s of the world and end up in some miserable hole to live in a melancholic state forever. Or maybe Logan could have stayed the perfect husband instead of a Hollywood nightmare? Or maybe Evan may have had a couple of kids by now, girls, an award-winning movie with a script penned by none other than Alisa herself. It was a dream, a really refreshing one, one that was nowhere near obtainable.

  Everything that could have been, the consequences because of what would have been … or the decisions she should have made instead? There were so many possib
ilities, so many ‘what ifs’.

  There were plenty of opportunities for her to jump in bed with Evan Gable, but she refused. Sure, she’d fantasized about numerous situations, and may have admitted her attraction to him, but Alisa never acted on it. He kissed her. They kissed each other, or whatever … it was nowhere near the brutal betrayal of cheating, sexually. In Hollywood, sex was like currency. It could be used as blackmail, as a status symbol, another notch in another bedpost in a borrowed bedroom. Alisa didn’t want that.

  She was already frustrated with her life. Two marriages that fell apart, and for what?

  At least she had her work.

  Bundling under the throw blanket she’d brought, Alisa closed her eyes and lie back on the balcony chair, falling asleep in a matter of minutes.

  Chapter Ten

  Evan was gone by the time she woke up to get ready to leave the hotel, which was around 7:00 a.m. She blared the latest album by her favorite band on her way home, twice over, since it was roughly a two hour drive. As much as she wanted to turn down the highway to Alex and John’s, it was time for the movie team to meet. It was their first meeting together since Alisa and Evan had come back from New York. She was excited to talk about their adventure and their exchanges with Joey and Jenn.

  With her freshly made coffee next to her notes, Alisa took her seat beside Ron, and Evan sat next to her.

  “I, for one, am so sorry for last night ….” He whispered quietly. Evan was just lucky Ron had selective hearing.

  Alisa snickered. “You have San Diego; I have Cora Rivera’s. We’re even?”

  “Deal.”

  They bumped fists.

  There was a third chair, empty, across the table. Another person entered the room.

  “Logan, thanks for joining us.”

  Alisa could have sworn it dropped at least ten degrees. The last person she wanted to be in a room with had unfortunately been invited to the meeting. She inhaled sharply as she looked up to see Logan walking through the door. It had been over three weeks since she’d been near him in an intimate location like this. San Diego was too crowded, too busy for her to worry about being in such close proximity to him, and yet, here he was. His eyes never lost hers. Evan had stood up to shake his hand, and he finally broke eye contact to acknowledge the new director before sitting down.

 

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