Falling Star

by Laura DeLuca

  We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

  Speaking of bridges, Drew could see the one leading into Wildwood just over the horizon. Thankfully, there wasn’t much traffic, which was a blessing after a grueling seven-hour flight. While he could’ve sprung for a private jet, he wanted to stay off the paparazzi’s radar and he’d learned long ago the best way to do that was to remain as low key as possible. He bought a coach ticket and dealt with the overlays and crowded cabin. Once he reached the Philadelphia airport, he rented a non-descript Honda Civic to drive the final two hours, hoping he’d blend in nicely with the upper-middle class families who vacationed in the coastal area. Since he traveled using his legal name and was careful to wear his baseball cap and sunglasses in crowds, no one had recognized him. He managed to escape Los Angeles completely undetected. Not even Paulie knew where he was, though Drew was certain he’d find more than a dozen missed calls from his agent once he decided to turn his cellphone back on.

  He can wait and so can everyone else, Drew thought uncharitably. This is my time.

  Casting his agent far from his mind, Drew enjoyed the scenery and the silence as he pulled off the highway at his exit. Despite its name, Wildwood was pretty light on woods. There was a long stretch of road where the marshlands crept right up to the street, but there were barely any trees. The air smelled of high tide; a combination of fish and saltwater. It was close to noon when he rolled over the drawbridge onto the actual island. A giant Ferris wheel stood frozen in the distance. The tip of the white tracks of a roller coaster sat beside it, resembling a massive skeletal ghost. Like the amusement park, many of the local businesses were closed, with parking lots bare and lights switched off, even though it was early afternoon. The convenience store was the only establishment that showed any signs of life. Drew passed a total of three other vehicles from the time he entered the city limits until he parked on the side street where the townhouse he’d rented was located. The town was so deserted, it could’ve been evacuated. It was exactly the kind of solitude Drew was hoping for when he’d chosen his vacation destination.

  Once inside, Drew laid his suitcases down and inspected his temporary residence. The place was high-end, with a big screen high-def television, designer leather couches, and granite countertops, but it lacked any real personality. There were a few generic landscape paintings on the plain tan walls, but not much else in the way of decoration. Still, it was the best he could do on short notice, especially when most of the rental properties had already been shut down for the season. Content with his temporary abode, Drew dropped his bags and pulled out his cellphone. After ringing his parents to let them know he arrived safely, he checked his messages. Eighteen missed calls and twelve text messages from Paulie. Figuring he might as well get the drama over with before he officially started his vacation, Drew punched in his agent’s number. Paulie answered before the first ring completed.

  “Andy? Where the hell are you? I was beginning to think you’d been kidnapped—hijacked. I’ve been waiting for the ransom call.”

  Drew could actually visualize the pudgy man dabbing the sweat from his forehead. “Calm down, Paulie. Everything’s fine.”

  “Everything is not fine. I have three producers breathing down my neck. Each of them is threatening to take their script to another actor if we don’t give them an answer yesterday. Do you want to stand in line at the unemployment office, Andy? Cause I sure don’t!”

  “Deep breaths, Paulie.” Drew sighed. “I don’t think there are unemployment lines anymore. They do that stuff online these days.”

  “This isn’t a joke! What has gotten into you?” Paulie demanded. “Would you try to be serious for one minute? This is your career we’re talking about!”

  “Exactly,” Drew retorted. “My career. And I’ve decided it’s time for a well-earned vacation. Why don’t you go harass one of your other clients for a change?”

  “What? A vacation? You can’t be serious! You can’t take a vacation now! Not with these jobs on the line. We have to give the producers an answer. Not to mention the promo work you have to do for Masked Secrets. People expect you to make appearances! Do interviews! What does Cat have to say about all this?”

  “Why would Cat have anything to say? We’re co-workers,” Drew reminded him. “Or rather, we were up until a few weeks ago. She doesn’t know anything about my personal life and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “Whether you like it or not, Cat is a pivotal part of your P.R. for the next few months,” Paulie argued. “The two of you should be making public appearances together. You should be ... hey wait, where are you anyway?”

  That information was definitely on a need-to-know basis, and Paulie was the last person in the world who needed to know. “Sorry, what was that, Paulie? I didn’t hear a word you said. The line is breaking up.”

  “Don’t you dare hang up on me, Andy!”

  “I think we’re losing the connection. I’ll have to get back to you later...”

  “Don’t do it!”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Don’t you—”

  Drew concluded the call and dodged Paulie’s inevitable rampage by hitting the end button. Then he turned the phone off altogether and buried it in the bottom of a dresser drawer. There was no one else he needed to talk to right away. Instead, he concentrated on unpacking his bags. He didn’t bring much with him, and what he had was hardly Hollywood attire. Jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, a few swimming trunks. Though based on the chill that already hung in the air, he doubted the latter would get much use. Drew took his time unloading. Since he planned on staying for quite a while, there was no reason to rush.

  Once that task was complete, Drew needed to stock his fridge. He’d probably order take-out more often than not, but he grabbed a six-pack and some snacks from the closest grocery store in case he wanted to lounge. It felt good—normal doing these everyday tasks for himself instead of having people wait on him hand and foot. So far, no one had guessed who he was, even though a teenager at the market did look twice. She blinked a few times, as though she was sure she was imagining things. Drew quickly turned down another aisle before she realized she’d been right. After the close call he decided he needed to go somewhere more secluded, so he dropped off his snacks and headed down to the deserted coastline.

  Time to see what this town has to offer.

  Drew didn’t see another human being on the two-block trek to the boardwalk, though he did hear the revving of a motorcycle engine somewhere in the distance. Most of the neighboring townhouses were sealed up tight for the winter months ahead. From the wooden ramp that led to the piers, he glanced in both directions and saw nothing but empty benches and closed shops, a few whose metal gates had been splashed with graffiti.

  When he finally stepped onto the beach, it was like finding a piece of heaven. The L.A. strands held their own charm, but they never offered such delightful solitude. The sand stretched out for miles in both directions, smooth and unmarred. It was so quiet, so beautiful, so boundless—it made Drew feel completely insignificant. For the first time in a long time, Andrew DiPalma was just a regular guy. He didn’t feel special. He didn’t feel famous. It was as though Andy Palmer had taken a hiatus and allowed his more humble counterpart to emerge.

  Drew sighed with contentment as he sauntered along the shoreline, alone with his thoughts for the first time in months. Lately, something was missing. He barely recognized himself anymore because he was always pretending to be someone else. It didn’t end when the camera stopped rolling. Even during award ceremonies, interviews, and Hollywood parties he still felt like he wore a mask, a façade of the heartthrob everyone expected him to be. All his life it had been his dream to become a successful actor, but now that he achieved that goal, he realized he needed more than fame to be happy.

  I need freedom, he thought. Freedom to find myself. Freedom to figure out who I am and where my life is heading.

  It was at that exact moment of rev
elation that he saw her—the very embodiment of a free spirit. She’d sprung from nowhere, appearing just as a small patch of sea mist evaporated. He’d been walking for close to an hour, but he hadn’t seen the girl until he was practically on top of her, and she hadn’t noticed him either. Her eyes were closed and her long legs moved in agile motions as she flew back and forth. As he inched closer, Drew could also make out the slight creak creak of the rusty metal as the swing dived up and down.

  “Hello?” Drew called tentatively as he took another step.

  The woman didn’t hear him, probably due to the headphones hanging from her ears. She sang lightly under her breath as she swung, her sweet soprano almost swallowed by the crash of the waves breaking against the shore. Drew strained to make out her words—something about being free as a bird. He recognized the song as an old Nelly Furtado tune.

  The lyrics fit the apparition perfectly. With her excessively long hair swooping behind her, the woman resembled a fairy or a sprite, even in her casual attire. Drew couldn’t stop staring at her, afraid she’d vanish back into the fog if he so much as blinked. He took another timid step in her direction. He hadn’t intended to disturb her, but she must’ve sensed his presence. All of a sudden, her eyes sprung open. She was so startled when she saw him standing a few feet away, she jerked forward, falling off the swing into a crumpled heap in the sand, legs and ear buds askew.

  “Oh my God!” Drew exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

  He rushed toward her, afraid she’d been hurt in the fall. He felt terrible that he’d frightened her, and he intended to play the chivalrous hero and help her to her feet. But before he could offer his hand, she leapt up of her own accord, and held out a set of jingling keys attached to a rather large can of pepper spray. Her finger was planted firmly on the nozzle.

  Oh crap, Drew thought. So much for relaxing.

  He could see the headlines now. Andy Palmer Goes Wild at the Jersey Shore. Gets Maced by Locals.

  “Don’t move,” the girl ordered. She set her lips in a tight frown and her hand never wavered from her weapon. Her cheeks were flushed, either by the breeze or by her agitation. “I’m not afraid to use this.”

  “All right.” Drew lifted his hands and took a step back, showing her that he was unarmed. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She was unconvinced. “How would you feel if you found some strange guy gawking at you in the middle of nowhere?”

  Drew shoved his hands in his pockets. His lips tugged back in half a smile. “The truth is, I’ve never seen a grown woman singing to herself on a swing set before. I found it intriguing and couldn’t resist getting a better look.”

  She wasn’t beautiful—at least not by Hollywood standards. Most of his friends would have defined her as average, somewhat plain. Her long brown hair was tangled and messy from the wind, and her nose might have been slightly crooked. But there was something about her—something different. She still had her mace pointed at him, but despite her defensive stance, she didn’t seem afraid. If anything, those big brown eyes were curious.

  “What can I say? I’m a kid at heart.” She crinkled her forehead. “So why are you still standing there?”

  Drew’s smile grew wider. He couldn’t help teasing her, even though he was in a precarious position. “You told me not to move.”

  She considered that for a heartbeat. “Oh, yeah. Well, you can move. As long as it’s not in my direction.”

  “Fair enough.” Drew really didn’t want to leave, but he wasn’t sure how to avoid it without appearing stalkerish. He started to slink away, but at the last second, he peeked over his shoulder. The pepper spray hadn’t budged, but deciding it was worth the risk for a chance to get to know this divine apparition better, he turned back. “But ... let me know if you’re okay. You didn’t get hurt when you fell, did you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m a natural born klutz. I’ve learned how to land gracefully.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “Then I guess I’ll go.”

  “Okay.” Mace still aimed.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She paused for a second, studying him. “Hey, wait a minute. You look sort of familiar.”

  “I do?”

  Drew flinched, afraid she would recognize him, start screaming, ask for a hundred autographs. Getting maced would’ve been preferable. Thankfully, she didn’t go all fangirl on him. He really doubted she was that type.

  “Do you live around here? I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

  “I doubt it. I’m visiting the area,” Drew replied carefully. Then in the hopes of changing the subject he added, “You know, this is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with pepper spray pointed at my face.”

  She smiled. It transformed her. She suddenly outshone ever supermodel he’d ever met. “Have you had many?”

  “Only when I scare people into falling off swing sets,” he told her, shivering. Behind the thin layer of fog, the sky turned shades of red and orange, a sure sign the sun wouldn’t be out much longer. Drew was used to California weather and wished he’d remembered to bring a sweatshirt with him. “Say, how would you feel about picking up this conversation somewhere a little warmer? Maybe we could go for coffee?”

  She appeared surprised. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  “I think I’m trying to but your pepper spray is making me kind of nervous.”

  “Sorry.” She lowered her arm, but didn’t put her weapon away. Drew didn’t blame her. He was a stranger, after all, and they were completely alone on the desolate strip. “I get jumpy when I see someone out here. It doesn’t happen very often.”

  “I completely understand.” Drew waived her worries away. “Now, how about that coffee?”

  “That sounds great,” she began, then paused to run a hand through her hair. “But I’d like to run home and freshen up a bit first. I was out running.”

  “No problem. We could exchange numbers ... wait.” Drew wanted to slap himself in the forehead when he remembered. “I don’t have my phone. I left it back at my place.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have mine either, but we could meet at the ummm ... well, there aren’t many coffee places open this time of year, but there’s a diner called Tom’s Cat at the corner of Rio Grande and New Jersey Avenue. It’s the first place you’ll see when you come off the bridge. They’re open all night.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Okay, then I’ll meet you there in ... let’s say an hour ... ummm ... ” She blushed. It was adorable. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Drew,” he said without skipping a beat. He offered her his hand. “Drew DiPalma.”

  She accepted the offering. Her grip was firm despite her outwardly delicate physique, and her fingers felt soft and warm against his own cold skin. “Nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Lainey.”

  “Lainey.”

  Drew repeated the name as he watched her go. She took off at a jog, but glanced back over her shoulder to wave once before she was swallowed up in a cloud of mist. The memory of her lingered long after she’d vanished. Drew’s heart raced with the expectation of seeing her again. He prayed she’d really show up. Something about their meeting seemed almost surreal, like he might have imagined the whole thing or mistakenly stumbled into another realm—a realm where sirens sang soulful tunes on deserted beaches to lure in unsuspecting men. He hoped he hadn’t dreamed her up because Lainey was a woman Drew definitely wanted to get to know better.

  Chapter Three

  Lainey felt as though she jogged on a cloud the whole way back to her condo. She couldn’t get Drew off her mind. That dazzling smile, those deep dark eyes, and that mop of perfectly groomed wavy brown hair. Based on the olive skin tone and his last name—Di something or other—he was even Italian. Her grandmother would’ve been thrilled. Her excitement over the chance encounter had her so full of adrenaline, she made it back home in half her normal time. But th
e second she got a good look at herself in the bathroom mirror, the momentary euphoria faded.

  “Oh. My. Gosh.”

  She was a disaster. Her hair was a windblown nightmare. The light makeup she’d worn to work was smeared around her eyes raccoon style, and her cheeks were almost scarlet from the exertion of running against the wind. She totally forgot she wore stretched-out yoga pants and an oversized tee. There was nothing appealing about the bedraggled reflection staring back at her. Maybe Drew was crazy after all. Who else but an insane man would pick up a nut job who was singing on the swings, dressed like a hobo? The more she thought about it, the more incredulous the whole situation seemed. Lainey wondered if she’d made the right choice by accepting his invitation.

  That’s why we’re meeting in a public place, she reminded herself. To gauge each other’s sanity level.

  Lainey might’ve been a firm believer in destiny, but that didn’t mean she was stupid enough to meet up with a strange guy without taking some precautions. She’d already been through some crazy situations on her previous internet dates. She could handle herself, and Drew was certainly a better option than Thong Boy or Cheech. Of course, if she didn’t get her butt in gear, she’d never find out what fate had in store for them. She’d just stepped out of the shower and was toweling off her hair when her cell phone rang. Instantly, her heart was in her throat. Was Drew calling to cancel? She settled down, though, once she remembered he didn’t have her number.