Falling Star

by Laura DeLuca

  As soon as Lainey slammed the door shut, Erin pulled away from the curb. Lainey chewed her fingernails to the stubs the whole six blocks to Drew’s townhouse. If memory served, Drew planned on leaving New Jersey sometime Friday night, which she now knew was probably to make it back in time for Saturday’s premiere. However, if she was really lucky, the hospital stay may have delayed his plans. Perhaps he wasn’t even well enough to fly. Lainey didn’t like the idea of him being hurt, but if it kept him stationary for another day, it might be a blessing in disguise. That glimmer of hope brightened considerably when she noticed there was a car in the driveway and lights on in his unit. It wasn’t the vehicle Drew had been driving the last few months, but of course the Honda had been totaled in the crash.

  “Pull over there,” Lainey instructed. “The place with the sports car out front is where Drew was staying.”

  Erin rolled her eyes. “Sure thing Miss Dizzy ... I mean Daisy.”

  Erin slid into the spot directly in front of the house and put the car in park. Strangely enough, as anxious as Lainey had been to arrive, she got as far as putting her hand on the handle before she froze. What was she thinking? What if Catherine was in there with him? She could interrupt an intimate moment. That would be even worse than seeing her face on the front page of the tabloids.

  “Ummm, we’re waiting.” Elisa nudged the back of Lainey’s chair with her shoe. “Someone might steal our table at Woody’s if you don’t get a move on.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  Lainey forced herself to open the door. She jumped out of the SUV, very nearly tripping over the curb in her high-heeled boots. It was beginning to feel like winter, and in her haste she’d forgotten to grab her jacket. Gooseflesh prickled her bare arms, but that could’ve been attributed to nerves as much as the chill. She still forced her shaky legs to carry her to the front steps. After exhaling deeply in the hope of calming her nerves, Lainey pressed the doorbell. Automated chimes echoed through the foyer while Lainey toyed nervously with the bells on her skirt.

  Please be there, Drew. Please, be there.

  She repeated the silent mantra until she swore she heard the sounds of shuffling emanating from inside the house. That was followed by a high-pitched bark. The sound made her nervous. Did Catherine have one of those stereotypical ankle biters all the female celebrities carried around in handbags? She scanned her memory, but she didn’t pay enough attention to the lifestyles of the Hollywood elite to remember which ones had a token terrier. All she could do was wait and see who answered—either that or dart back into Erin’s SUV before the heavy-footed shuffler got to the door.

  “Can I help you?”

  It was too late to turn back because even as she stood there debating taking the coward’s way out, an older man emerged in the entryway. He smiled down at her from a height of six feet while his pug growled threateningly in Lainey’s direction. The man bore a striking resemblance to Dick Van Dyke, from his above-average height to his solid silver hair and playful grin. Normally, Lainey would’ve cast such an idea aside as pure folly, but after the Drew/Andy scheme—well, who knew how many stars traveled undercover to the Jersey shore, trusting the locals wouldn’t believe their eyes.

  “Can I help you?” the man repeated. Curiosity turned to concern and Lainey could tell he wondered if a lunatic had landed on his porch steps. All Lainey could do was stare at him with her mouth hanging open.

  “Sorry, you ... ummm, took me by surprise,” she explained. “I must have the wrong unit. I was looking for Drew.”

  “Oh! Mr. DiPalma?” The grin returned. “I’m afraid he handed in his keys earlier today. I just arrived a few minutes ago to assess the damage. Most tenants tear the place up, but I gotta tell you, he was the best renter I ever had. Not a single thing out of place.”

  “I’m, ummm, glad to hear it.”

  “You should give him a call,” Drew’s landlord suggested. “I’m sure he’d be disappointed to have missed a pretty thing like you.”

  Lainey forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll do that. Thanks for your time. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No bother, little miss.”

  The pug’s constant barking suggested he or she didn’t agree with his master, so Lainey rushed down the steps. Feeling dejected, she slumped back to the car, barely noticing the cold anymore. The last of her hope had already been dashed by a chimney sweep wannabe. Drew was gone with no forwarding address or phone number. Even if she flew out to Hollywood to find him, she doubted she’d ever get close. Sure, he still had the house in Cape May Point, but who knew when or if he’d ever decide to return to it. Lainey didn’t think things could possibly get any worse. Yet, somehow, her friends found a way to rub salt in an already festering wound.

  “Listen, girl,” Elisa said carefully. “I’m on your side. You know that right?”

  “We both are,” Erin added.

  Lainey narrowed her eyes. “What’s this about?”

  “It’s about Drew, or Andy, or whatever name he’s going by this week and the fact that he’s not worth any second or third chances.” Elisa’s lips set in a scowl. “In case you needed a reminder, there’s something I want you to take a look at. Because there’s only one person this dude cares about and it’s numero uno all the way.”

  Elisa held up her cellphone. It was the latest model and much more impressive than the flip-phone Lainey had gotten for free with her service. She rarely even used her texting, but Elisa could play games, search the net, and apparently gain access to the local news with just a few strokes of her mini keypad. Lainey didn’t want to watch but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the same stone-faced newscaster who’d reported Drew’s accident. This time she was the bearer of even more bad tidings, even though her words proclaimed the opposite.

  “Good news from the Jersey shore this morning. After being involved in a serious car accident earlier this week, actor Andy Palmer has been released from the hospital with minor injuries. The celebrity had this to say in an impromptu interview...”

  The scene switched to a full screen of Drew outside the hospital, looking striking and professional in spite of the terrible discoloration on his bruised forehead. He was flocked by reporters, but didn’t lose his cool or run away from them like Lainey had. Instead, he faced them head on. If the smile he wore was strained, he did a good job of concealing it. He was obviously comfortable in front of the camera, nodding to one of the reporters while Catherine slunk up beside him and laced her arm around his waist.

  “Mr. Palmer!” A man who was hidden by the camera angle shoved a microphone in his face. “What are your plans now that you’ve been released?”

  His answer was matter-of-fact. “I suppose I’ll be heading back to California for the premiere of Masked Secrets.”

  “We’ll be leaving this afternoon,” Catherine added, looping arms with him. “Together, of course. We admit there have been a few bumps along the way, but a crisis like this is all we needed to bring us closer together.”

  “Turn it off,” Lainey demanded.

  The reporters still had tons of questions for Hollywood’s favorite couple, but Lainey had heard enough. Of all the stupid, sentimental fools, she had to be the worst. Thank goodness Drew was already gone and she was spared this one last indignity. Not even the letter from the agent would melt her heart this time. In fact, she had no intention of accepting any favors from Drew. She’d find her own agent.

  Firm in her resolve, she pulled the letter from her purse, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it on the floor.

  “Lainey, honey.” Erin laid a consoling hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Lainey shook her head. “I want to go to Woody’s like we planned and get so drunk I forget the last three months ever happened.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Drew had to hand it to his agent. The guy was good at getting what he wanted. Whether it was a multi-million dollar contract or a doctor’s signature on an early r
elease, he had it in the bag. Even the possibility of a malpractice suit was less intimidating than Paulie when he was having a bad day. Drew was grateful that, for a change, he wasn’t on the receiving end of one of Paulie’s tirades. He was also more than ready to vacate the area. The sterile hospital room had become stifling, and even the peace of the small town had vanished with the arrival of the reporters. All Drew wanted now was to catch a flight back to Los Angeles and have at least a few hours to relax before he was expected to make any public appearances.

  Of course, he had to survive the onslaught waiting for him outside in the parking lot before he could do anything else. Merely getting to the limousine Paulie had rented required crossing a stream of news anchors tossing out questions faster than anyone could possibly answer them. Catherine butting in with replies that were flat out lies only added to his aggravation. He kept his cool throughout the unsolicited interview, but made his real feelings clear the second they were alone.

  “What the hell do you think you were doing out there? You had no right to insinuate there’s anything going on between us,” Drew demanded, rubbing his sore arm.

  Climbing into the limo presented a whole series of new problems. The simple task of sliding in the door had never been so agonizing. The movement sent renewed fire through his ribs and the jolt caused him to twist his shoulder the wrong way. The pain fueled his temper, and he glared at Catherine while she applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

  Unfazed by his reprimand, the actress flicked her hand as she placed her mirrored compact back in her handbag. “The insinuation was already there, love, just by the fact that we are leaving together. I was simply giving them verbal confirmation to avoid any more messy headlines about your little friend. “

  Drew considered flinging a few ungentlemanly-like words in her direction until he admitted she was at least partially correct. The last thing he wanted was to cause Lainey anymore grief. While it might hurt her to see Catherine and Drew together on the cover of a magazine, at least the press would leave her alone now that there was no more story. Maybe it was time to stop fighting it. Perhaps he should go ahead and marry Catherine, give the fans what they wanted. Then he could sit back and wait until she was ready to cause a stir and there’d be a whole new set of headlines about messy divorces and sultry affairs. The idea made him cringe, but it wasn’t like he had any better options. Lainey made it clear she was finished with him, and any other woman he might pursue in the future would pale in comparison.

  “So, where to, chief?” Paulie hauled his bulk onto the other side of the limo and the whole thing tilted to one side. “We heading straight to the airport or what?”

  Once he was settled in, Paulie helped himself to one of the mini vodkas in the bar, downing the whole thing in a single gulp. Catherine pinched her face in distaste when he belched, but Drew was used to his agent’s crude behavior. He shook his head. “I’d like to stop by the townhouse I was renting. The landlord will be coming by in a few hours and I want to grab what’s left of my stuff before he gets there. There are a few personal things I don’t want to leave behind.”

  Paulie glanced at his watch. “You’ll have to make it quick. Our flight leaves at seven and we still have to drive all the way to Philly. I’m not sure what you could possibly need from there anyway. It ain’t like you don’t have the cash to replace your duds.”

  Drew didn’t bother explaining because Paulie would never understand. The things Drew wanted to retrieve were mementos from his time with Lainey—a feather she picked up on a nature trail, one of Cape May’s signature quartz “diamonds”, and, of course, the photo from the roller coaster. He’d even kept the holy stone she found at the house in Cape May Point a few days ago. Though he’d spent most nights at Lainey’s condo since the hurricane, he’d still stored these keepsakes at the townhouse, fearing she’d think him silly if she knew how sentimental he was.

  “If you insist on dragging us all over, we must stop for some decent refreshments.” Catherine stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “That hospital coffee is simply dreadful. Are there any real coffee houses nearby?”

  The limo driver declared there was indeed a coffee house along the route to Wildwood and it was Catherine’s favorite chain. They took off in that direction, and the actress spent the whole ride chattering about her gown for the premiere. Drew bobbed his head occasionally to make it seem like he was listening, but he’d never cared much for satin and lace. Cotton and Boho were more to his taste these days and perhaps the occasional set of bunny ears.

  On the other side of the vehicle, Paulie appeared as though he might have fallen asleep with his eyes open because there were a few snorts that sounded like snoring, but Catherine was too self-involved to notice.

  “I can’t be seen here, you know. The fans would surely flock me.” Catherine batted her fake eyelashes at the driver when he cruised to a stop in the parking lot of the mall where the coffee house was located. She pulled a few fifties from her handbag and handed them to the older man. “If you wouldn’t mind ordering me a low fat double mocha, you can keep the change. And of course I’ll be forever in your debt.”

  “Sure thing, ma’am.”

  Her charm won him over more than the money. Catherine was good at playing many roles, not the least of which was the damsel in distress. The driver actually whistled as he stepped out of the car, and didn’t even think to ask his other passengers if they needed anything because he was so star struck by the redhead. Paulie wasn’t about to be left out where food was concerned, so he rolled down the window before the chauffeur disappeared.

  “I’ll take a black coffee and an egg salad sandwich,” Paulie called to the retreating figure and received a hat tip in acknowledgement.

  Drew didn’t order anything. He’d never grown accustomed to having people wait on him, and he had no appetite anyway. His body was sore and his heart was numb. It was a condition that even the best latte in the world couldn’t remedy.

  “Drew, dear, I do wish you would try to cheer up,” Catherine complained. “You’re absolutely morose and there is simply no reason for it. Think about it, tomorrow night we’ll be back in Hollywood, preparing for the world premiere of Masked Secrets. You know, the critics who had a sneak preview are saying it’s sure to be an even bigger hit than Sunken Treasures.”

  Drew leaned his head against the window. “Wonderful.”

  “Eh, don’t worry about him. He’ll perk up once his medication wears off.” Paulie grinned at Catherine, buttering her up. “It ain’t no surprise to me this movie is getting rave reviews when we upgraded his co-star. It takes two to tango, as they say. I’ll bet my shorts you two take home the Oscar for best picture this year.”

  Paulie and Catherine continued to make idle conversation while Drew stared blankly out the window. Casual, everyday people passed in and out of the shop, going about their mundane lives. Some were dressed in business suits whereas others sported jeans. Drew viewed them through the tinted glass. Normally he was on the big screen and the world watched him, but for once he was the spectator, observing each individual with an envious eye. At the moment, he would’ve happily switched places with any one of them.

  “Here’s your coffee, ma’am.”

  The sound of the chauffeur’s voice snapped Drew from his reverie. The driver handed out the drinks through an open window before climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling back onto the street. It wasn’t long before they were on the marshy road leading to Wildwood. Drew could see the drawbridge looming in the distance and prayed no boats would be waiting beneath. He didn’t want to extend his travels with Catherine and Paulie any longer than necessary. Yet, regardless of everything else, Drew still admired the way the sun flickered off the water. It was close to high tide and the bay inched toward the main roads, blanketing the reeds in lightly breaking waves.

  Catherine only sneered as the lovely scenery flashed by. “It amazes me that such a place actually has something as civilized as a coffee house. The whole coun
ty smells like yesterday’s sushi.”

  “The bay smells a lot better than the perfume you’re wearing,” Drew retorted, his voice harsher than he intended. “And they have more to offer here than you think.”

  Catherine rolled her eyes. “That, my dear, is a matter of opinion.”

  Thankfully, the bridge didn’t go up and they didn’t even hit any traffic lights, mostly because the majority of them had been set to flashing yellow for the off season. There weren’t enough cars on the road to warrant stopping at every street in the winter months which made the ride a lot smoother.

  Once they arrived at Drew’s doorstep, he’d hoped to sneak inside on his own. However, Paulie and Catherine insisted on babysitting, and he didn’t have the energy to argue with them. It took all his strength to pull himself out of the car and limp up the steps. Every stride was an agony to his healing body, and it took him twice as long as normal to make the climb. But at least the reporters hadn’t discovered his secret hideout. If they’d known he’d rented this place, they’d have made sure to stalk him there. Thankfully, the awkward trio were the only people anywhere on the deserted street.

  “What did I tell you?” Paulie remarked to Catherine as Drew fumbled with his keys. “There’s more life in Chernobyl than there is in this ghost town.”

  “Some people like it that way, Paulie.” Drew sighed. He couldn’t help coming to the defense of an island he’d grown to love. “It’s peaceful.”

  Paulie snorted as Drew unlatched the door. They piled into the foyer and Catherine crinkled her nose in distaste. Drew was certain the whole house would’ve fit in the master bedroom of her mansion in Hollywood. Of course, Drew’s home on the West coast wasn’t any smaller, but now he wondered why he’d ever bought into the consumption and greed of the celebrity world. What did a single guy need with twenty-two rooms? He’d been much more comfortable here than in that giant empty house.