Seducing the Stargazer

by Kim Carmichael

  He also managed to sell them out, all for the cost of a probe going up in the air maybe too soon, maybe at just the right time. Who knew anymore?

  “Dr. Knox, what more can you tell us?”

  While the questions continued, Wynn backed away from the platform. Media or not, she needed a minute.

  “Where are you going?” Dana grabbed her arm. “Why did you say there was a problem?”

  “I’m not feeling well. I’ll be right back.” She jerked away from the woman then sneaked away. Once far enough from the action, she rushed into astronomy building, into the nearest bathroom. At the nearest sink she splashed her face with water.

  Yes, she made a mistake, but Garner betrayed her, betrayed them. The asteroid was theirs—they vowed to keep it their secret until they were ready, not blurt it out to create a diversion for a company driven by the dollar and a man who didn’t care about the science.

  She let the tears flow. Somewhere in her, the same graduate student who thought she would be getting a ring the day she earned her diploma thought foolishly that perhaps she would be publishing a journal article as Dr. Carlsbad-Knox.

  How many times did she have to be wrong?

  She took a shuddering breath. Maybe they could salvage this. Maybe this would only light the fire for them to continue their research. They only needed to be together.

  Not caring about her makeup anymore, she wiped her face with an all too scratchy paper towel and exited the bathroom to return to Garner.

  In the hall, Mrs. Benton waved her down. “Dr. Carlsbad.”

  She headed to the woman. “Is the press conference over?”

  Mrs. Benton nodded. “I’ll take you back to the penthouse.”

  “Where is everyone else? Dr. Knox?” Her heart skidded to an abrupt halt, nearly knocking the breath out of her.

  “Dr. Knox is going to spend a few days at the Personal Space headquarters.” Mrs. Benton lowered her head.

  Wynn didn’t need a PhD to understand the meaning behind the lady’s words. He would be going without her. “No.” She dashed out of the building.

  The media was already dispersing, and as fast as she could, she ran between the buildings and spotted him off in the distance, walking toward a long limousine.

  “Garner!” His name echoed off the walls and she stopped and waited for a sign.

  He continued walking, never even broke stride, and got into the awaiting vehicle.

  “Dr. Carlsbad.” The same newscaster who skewered Wynn came over.

  Wynn simply stared at the lady.

  “Can you tell me anything more about the asteroid? Do you know what broke it apart?” the woman asked.

  “There’s still a lot of research that has to be done. Perhaps we’ll never know,” Wynn whispered.

  “Will the two parts remain together forever?”

  Wynn shut her eyes. “Gravity is a funny thing. They may want to stay together, but forces beyond them can tear them apart.” She motioned for Mrs. Benton and headed the opposite direction from Garner. Not even a one billion chance could keep them together.

  All she knew was while she and Garner vowed to keep their little secret between them, publish their findings together, now the world knew, and it would never be the same.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Instead of using his key, Garner braced against the stone pillar outside his family’s home and rang the doorbell.

  A chime that was more a symphony of bells than a simple ding-dong reverberated through his brain, and he gnashed his teeth together in hopes his mother saw him on the camera rather than her maid. In the four days since the press conference, he was sure he appeared as sick as he felt.

  He waited, and at last the door opened.

  “Oh my, you look flush.” His mother thrust her hand onto Garner’s forehead.

  “I think I’m also clammy.” Never sure what clammy meant, he used his mother’s buzzword to get the desired result. However, in order to be sure the woman truly understood without a doubt that he did not feel good, he pursed out his lower lip and closed his eyes halfway. He was quite certain he was dying, and there was no better place to gain the sympathy he needed than Mona Knox Hospital.

  “Let me see.” She took him by the arm and dragged him inside his family home, then placed the back of her hand on his cheek to make her assessment. He figured the palm was the temperature gauge while the back measured humidity. Wynn seemed to love getting her gauges checked.

  Wynn.

  He needed help and stared at his mother, waiting for the verdict.

  “Hum.” Shaking her head, she lead him through the foyer and over to the elevator.

  The uncertain tone and use of the elevator rather than the stairs let Garner know he had an illness of an unspecified diagnosis as of yet, but it would require bed rest, juice, and a pillow. Exactly what the doctor ordered. In this case he was the doctor, and he had a hangover that threatened to take him down. “I have a headache, too.” If he told his mother his head had been pounding non-stop since walking away from Wynn at the press conference, he might end up with a trip to the emergency room, and that wouldn’t be healing at all.

  “Well, Buster, you are going right up to your suite and straight to bed. Get under the covers and put on the television. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I have to gather some supplies.” Together, they made their way into the elevator.

  With conviction, his mother pressed the button to the third floor. He shook his head. Wynn loved the elevator. Right before the holiday break in their last year of school, she ended up with the flu. A real flu, complete with a triple digit fever, red-rimmed eyes and stomach distress. Not knowing what to do, he brought her here to the medical epicenter of the world.

  His mother had gone into full-blown wellness ninja mode, and even through the coughing and aches and chills, Wynn seemed to bask in the attention lathered on her by a woman, who for all intents and purposes should have been a doctor or a nurse, or at least have had fifteen kids to look after. After meeting Wynn’s parents, he understood her fondness for his over protective mother hen.

  What he remembered most about her stay was that after his mother deemed her ready to slowly walk around the house and regain her strength, Wynn seemed totally enamored with the elevator. More than once, she told him she didn’t think an elevator could be in a home, and he swore she made excuses to use it.

  He groaned and pressed his forehead to the wall. She was a woman who appreciated everything. Even after earning her PhD, she was still fascinated by the smallest space news down to a full moon. Every time he made love to her, she held on to him like she couldn’t believe they were really together. She even loved the private elevator that took them straight to the penthouse in his building. Yes, the woman appreciated everything but him.

  “I’m not sure if you’re contagious, so when Wynn gets here, I can put her in the suite adjacent to yours. I don’t want her getting sick, too.” The elevator doors opened and his mother guided him out.

  Without a word, he went straight to his old room, kicked off his shoes and practically fell into the bed. “I haven’t slept in a while.” He put his arm over his eyes and tried to block out the images of Wynn that followed him everywhere. After the press conference, he had to leave. He couldn’t look at the woman who searched elsewhere for answers. Her one act told him everything he needed to know, so he got on the plane and told the pilot to surprise him.

  Hours later he ended up in Kansas, a nice state no doubt, but once he gazed out at the sky and noticed the lack of light pollution Wynn always searched for, he refused to get off the plane, work on his research or even on Personal Space. Instead, he chose to sit inside and have a little drink.

  The next three days passed pretty much the same way. Thus far in his Wynn-free life, he visited Montana, Iowa, and Missouri, but never stepped one foot on solid ground. This morning, the pilot finally announced he had one final destination for him, and landed in Californi
a.

  His whole life Garner tried to leave home, go out on adventures, refused to be cooped up ever again.

  Once he stepped off the plane, he headed straight here.

  “I’m progressive. If you want me to put Wynn in here, I will, I just want to keep her well.” His mother put an afghan over him.

  Again, he didn’t answer.

  “Garner.” She gave his shin a squeeze. “Where is Wynn, and when is she getting here?”

  Still, he refused to speak, say the words, make it real.

  “Garner.” Rather than her sweet, nurturing tone, his mother barked at him. “Where is Wynn?” She thrust his arm away from his face.

  The light from the window hit him in the eye and he winced. “Mom.”

  Her eyes widened, she put her hand over her mouth, and she backed away, shaking her head. In an instant the tears began to glisten in her eyes.

  “Don’t do this to me.”

  She returned to his side and stared down at him. Rather than tend to him, make it better, go into action, she crossed her arms.

  “What?” Fine, he might have whined.

  “You’re not sick, you’re hung over.” Her voice came out as if she just swallowed a bitter pill.

  “Trust me when I tell you that I’m sick.” In the last four days, he discovered the meaning of the word heartsick.

  “You know what?” She reached out to adjust his blanket then stopped.

  He waited for her to continue.

  “Maybe I held on too tight.” Her tear finally fell and she glanced around the room. “You were sick and every time you walked out that door you would come back even more ill, and I just wanted to keep you with me. But as you grew up, I knew I had to let you go out in the world,”

  “You did great, Mom.” He wasn’t sure if he ever told her that.

  She shrugged and headed for the door. “What happens next?”

  All Wynn ever wanted was the answer to that exact question, and he felt like the wind was knocked out of him. “If you would have asked me five days ago, I would have been able to tell you.”

  “And what would that have been?” she asked.

  “I thought I was a scientist, I thought I was an investor, I thought I had my infinity.”

  “And now?” his mother prodded.

  He scanned the room his mother hadn’t redecorated since he moved out. A time capsule of his life—there were his books, his telescope, his electronics. Somewhere deep down he was still the sick, sad kid trapped in a mansion, who longed to soar among the stars. At the moment he didn’t think he would ever be able to look in a telescope and not see the asteroid that brought him together and then tore him apart from the woman he always loved.

  In his pocket his phone buzzed, and with a sick surge though his stomach, he snatched up the device. Not once had Wynn tried to contact him, but every time the phone rang he wondered if it might be her. With a quick glance at the screen, he ground his teeth together and answered. “Dr. Knox.”

  “Hello, Dr. Knox, this is Natalie Johnson from the Los Angeles Herald. The publicity team at Personal Space gave me your direct line.” The all too cheery voice bore through his skull.

  He pounded his fist on the mattress. Two days ago Dana and Jim gave up on calling him.

  “If you don’t mind, I have a few questions on the asteroid, and of course, the Personal Space launch.” Without skipping a beat, the woman continued.

  “Thank you for your call, Ms. Johnson, but I won’t be continuing on the asteroid research, and I no longer am the spokesperson for Personal Space.” Before the woman could react, he ended the call and returned his attention to his mother. He was done with the research, with Personal Space, with waiting for his infinity. “I’m not any of those things.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “New start, new life, new universe.” In her new corporate apartment, Wynn stared at her computer screen and found herself in the same position she had been in all too many times.

  Again, she needed a job.

  She shook her head. When she first sent out her résumés, she thought she would have at least until the launch to secure a new landing pad. If she were truthful, after the night Garner told her about his research, she would have thought she didn’t need a résumé any longer.

  Instead, on the one-week anniversary of the press conference gone wrong, here she was again.

  After Garner walked away from her, she returned to the penthouse and tried to figure out what happened. All she had were some cryptic words about not coming to him, science that even she couldn’t decipher, and she had a PhD. For three days she tried solve the riddle, but after 72 hours of waiting for Garner, she finally threw in the white towel and declared him the winner. The star would forever remain in his court, even if she never received her telescope time. It wasn’t what she wanted anymore.

  On day four, she loaded up the brand new car Garner promised her when she first took the short-lived job and moved into a corporate apartment with furniture and everything, the kind executives stayed in when they had a long-term project. While not as grand as the penthouse, it was a definite upgrade from her old mold-infested apartment.

  She continued to send follow up emails to potential employers though if one were being technical, she didn’t need to. Technically, no one ever fired her from Personal Space. Not that it mattered, since she was done with her foray into the private sector. Along the way, she walked away from everything in her quest to be with Garner. Once she became a little more stable, she would return the car and the money and, though the thought made her ill, she would step away from the asteroid research. She needed to forget all things Garner Knox. Their last reunion was a one in a billion chance, and they had run out their odds.

  A buzz rang through her new home, indicating a visitor. After hitting send on a follow up email, she ran to the front door, gave a quick glance in the peephole, and with a smile opened the door. “Mrs. Benton.”

  Huge silver tray in hand, the woman nodded. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Wynn made way for her.

  “Thank you for sending me your address. I thought we might have some tea.” The woman headed straight to the table and put the tray down.

  At the sight of Mrs. Benton lifting the domes and setting up a proper tea service, Wynn’s eyes heated, and she swallowed back a fresh batch of tears. “I appreciate you coming.” She closed the door and joined one of the most amazing people she ever had the pleasure of meeting.

  “Please, sit.” Mrs. Benton motioned toward one of the chairs at the generic glass and dark wood table.

  “You don’t have to serve me.” When she reached forward to help, Mrs. Benton shot her a look. In an instant she plopped down into her seat and put her elbow on the table.

  All Mrs. Benton needed to do was give her another glance, and she sat up straight with her hands in her lap.

  The woman gave a slight nod and presented her with a perfectly prepared cup of tea then handed her a plate of watercress sandwiches and a cookie. “These are my favorite,” Wynn told her.

  “I am aware.” Mrs. Benton let out a knowing chuckle.

  “The cookie is Garner’s favorite.” At mentioning his name out loud, Wynn gasped.

  Mrs. Benton gave her a side-eyed look, then took her own plate and sat across from her.

  Wynn pressed her lips together. In no world would she ask about Garner. “Did Garner send you?” Her question out there, she pounded on her leg.

  Instead of answering, Mrs. Benton took a sip of the tea. She put her pinkie up and everything.

  As Wynn thought about it, she wasn’t ever sure if she saw the woman eat before. She wondered if Garner was eating. Was he scarfing down his food like nothing happened or did he at least have a little bit of a stomachache like the one she carried with her everywhere? “How is he?”

  Mrs. Benton put her cup down.

  “I only ask because he was sick as a kid.” She shrugge
d. “Back in graduate school he got sick after he got really stressed out. I made him vegetable soup. I even went down to this local farm and got the vegetables fresh and made the soup.” She remembered how he stayed at her apartment and she tucked him into bed. “I don’t think I put enough salt in it, but he ate it anyway.”

  At last she took a bite of the sandwich and peeked over at Mrs. Benton. “That’s why I asked if he was all right.”

  The woman sat back.

  “Not that he’s stressed or anything, at least not about me.” Wynn’s hand shook, and the cup and saucer rattled against one another as she tried to get it to her mouth. “I guess you can’t tell me. There’s probably a code with butlers and all about not talking about those they work for. I just didn’t want him to be sick.” She didn’t even know what she was talking about anymore, and she gulped down the drink.

  The hot liquid seared her throat and she gasped. After getting the dishes back on the table, she shot up and paced around the room. Finally, the tears that wanted to fall made their trek down her cheeks.

  Calm and cool, Mrs. Benton disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water. “Dr. Carlsbad.”

  Wynn took the offering, gulped it down and sniffed. “I’m fine, it’s just a burn.” Great, the tears wouldn’t stop.

  Mrs. Benton reached into her pocket and offered Wynn a handkerchief.

  “I’m really fine.” She snatched up the cloth and wiped her eyes. “Since you don’t work for me, I guess it’s all right if you tell Garner I’m fine.”

  “I will make sure to relay the message.” Mrs. Benton patted her shoulder.

  “You know, I’m very rude. I didn’t even bother to show you around the place.” Wynn motioned forward. “I have my dining room and kitchen that you’ve already seen, and here’s my living room.”

  “It’s quite nice,” Mrs. Benton said.