Falling Stars (The B–Side)

by J. L. Brooks

  Speechless, he nodded and studied the girls’ handiwork. When I looked back, a small line had formed as people came to receive their own creations.

  “Why did they choose these designs for you?” Grant asked while tracing the shapes with his fingers and eyes.

  “Well, turtles are the animals of adaptation. They can live on dry land or underwater, whether it is saltwater or fresh. Their relatives have survived for centuries in the desert. They are also one of the oldest symbols of shamanism. They symbolize uniting heaven and earth, trusting the divine path, slowing down. The tree is to remember to stay grounded while reaching for the sky. That’s what they told me. I just know my boobs are covered pretty well.”

  He eyed the guys who were cracking up at his discomfort. Unable to sit, I had to stand to avoid getting paint on a chair, they refused to look me in the eye, unsure of how to act. A part of me felt smug with the tables turned. It did not seem to draw much attention until we realized that I was the topic of conversation while the girls painted. It seemed after they finished each person, they came over to introduce themselves and chat. Grant sat next to me possessively, and the others watched warily. Excusing myself to the tent, I crashed down on the sleeping bag, exhausted. Although I had been drinking plenty of water, I could tell the heat was draining.

  Grant joined me and rested his body to the side with this head propped up on an elbow.

  “I’m sorry if I am ruining your trip. I should stop telling people who I am,” I said apologetically.

  Reaching over to tuck my hair behind my ear, his hand traveled down the small of my back and sides. “Stop, it’s interesting. Never a dull moment with you, that’s for sure. Fred would have loved you. In fact I would be fighting him off and most likely losing.”

  I shook my head to dismiss his remark. “Are you kidding? You should meet yourself. If I had met you both at the same time, I could guarantee I would have felt the same way about you. Besides, I would have driven him nuts with my misuse of the English language and lack of structure. I write like your kids color. All over the place and without a damn care what anyone else thinks. You mean I am not supposed to go outside the black line? Pshhhhh.”

  Grant began to remove his clothes as the fan blew a strong gust of air in the small tent. Having a tent with solar power and a light integrated was a genius idea for a place like this. It was a small luxury, but welcome.

  “How tired are you, Lila?” he questioned eagerly.

  Knowing exactly what he was thinking, I grinned wickedly. “Lay down, I can’t have you chasing the turtles out of the habitat with sweat and friction.”

  He laughed loudly at my concerns. “Whatever you say, madam.”

  Three days of bliss had passed and our departure was looming ominously.

  “So you’re really leaving me?” he said softly. Grant expressed a fake pout, yet I could see sincerity in his disappointment.

  “I have to. Lorenzo just gave word that he did not have to do very much, and that they are already chomping at the bit for my story. I have my pick of publishers; he’s just getting the details. I need to be there by tomorrow afternoon to accept an offer. These things happen fast.”

  Lorenzo Acerbi was a shark just like Dinah, but one that never used me as bait. He told me once his name even meant heartless in Italian. I was devastated when he left Blank Page and I was handed over to the succubus. His final night in the city was capped off with an elaborate dinner at Palma and lap dances at The Diamond Club. With an unlit Cuban hanging from his mouth, he kept pulling strippers over to grind on me, thrilled that I joined him.

  “These girls have nothing on you, Lila. I know you are modest, but don’t think for a moment I haven’t watched you and wondered what kind of hellcat you are in the sack.”

  I giggled at his drunken honesty. No longer bound to professionalism, he was laying it all out on the table. A bottle of vodka later, I ended up at his apartment and showed him how wild I could be. Waking up the next morning, he rubbed his thumb across my cheeks and looked wistful while giving me the same look that Grant currently held.

  “Well, if tonight is all I have with you, I don’t want to waste a single minute.”

  I immediately stripped off my undies, laughing momentarily at our tan lines. Caught between frenzy and the desire to savor every moment, emotions tangled with our bodies, never seeming to find peace. More than once Grant mentioned traveling home with him to Vancouver to continue our journey. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t entertained the idea several times.

  As I stood there pressed against his sweat-slicked chest, he said the massive fire ending the festival was about to begin and the entire city was congregated in the flats for that pivotal moment. He took my hand and we walked slowly to the massive wooden structure built to resemble a man. Music played loudly across the desert and the mutant vehicles sped across, kicking up dust clouds.

  Staring into the flames, I fought to remain in the moment and not think about everything I would be leaving behind. Always looking ahead, I could have never dreamed of this outcome. Hunter was still there, but no longer a festering wound in my soul. Grant’s presence was healing and gave me the courage to press onward. I was going to miss him more than I let on. A few fleeting thoughts flashed of living along the Pacific Coast, watching whales and dare I say, having children.

  Those were truly crazy thoughts and the reason I had to distance myself from Grant. Motherhood was never on my radar until I met him. Even with Hunter, I never pictured myself having a family of my own. I doted on my niece and nephew, yet my uterus did not tingle with want until now. Contributing it to ancient primal urges, my body recognized Grant as an ideal specimen for offspring. Well-muscled, intelligent, attentive, delicious smelling, gorgeous. There was not one flaw to be found. Yet beyond the hormone surges and mundane rut of the everyday, those things would soon fade into the background of what I saw.

  We all become ordinary at some point.

  As the fire raged on, we walked farther out into the flats and lay upon the bare ground, taking in the stars. Out so far away from industrialized areas, there was no light pollution to blur the beauty of a desert night. With my head in his lap, Grant stroked my hair absentmindedly as the heavens moved across our view. The occasional satellite in orbit and distant airplane was nearly lost in the multitude of twinkling lights. I had thought Moab’s sky was spectacular, yet it was incomparable to this.

  “Thank you,” I said appreciatively.

  Grant exhaled heavily before responding.

  “No need to thank me, Lila. Just do me a favor. When you get to Vegas and you sign your deal, I want you to think about where you really want to go and what you really want to do. This thing that is driving you to finish this story is only out of a temporary circumstance. Forever is a long time; you deserve to be happy.”

  I rolled over and smiled, holding my hand out to him. “You are right. I do deserve it. And I will be starting right now, because you are going to dance with me.”

  Standing up and then sliding his hand down my back, he smirked down at me. “Is that so? And why am I going to dance with you? How do you know I can dance?”

  I shook my hips, following the beat coming from the loud speakers of the festival. With my shoulders moving back and forth, I shimmied against him and giggled.

  “Because of how you fuck. There’s some quote about dancing being a vertical expression of a horizontal desire, I think. It has to go both ways; now show me what you can do.”

  Chuckling lightly, he was teasing me. Flipping my body around and pulling my back against his chest, he began to samba and counted the steps in my ears. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. His hands kept my hips pressed into his groin as he ground hard circles. I squealed in delight at how well he led me through the moves. Under his grip I moved backward and to the sides, my eyes closing, feeling every step. Once again I had underestimated this man and knew it would cost me.

  An hour passed as we danced away from the cro
wd. With tired feet and heavy hearts, we began the long walk back to the tent. Knowing the next morning I would be waking up alone in a plush hotel room, I already missed his body sleeping beside me. As we snuggled our dusty limbs into the sleeping bag, the warm tears of sadness fell freely before turning into full-blown sobs.

  “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  Grant laughed lightly as I choked the words out, smoothing my hair away from my damp cheeks trying to calm me.

  “Breathe, honey. It’s okay. It’s not forever. You can come see me whenever you want. I will come to you if you let me. It doesn’t have to end. This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

  I nodded in agreement while snuggling deep into his chest. I wanted to freeze this moment in time where I felt safe and cared for. I was about to blow open the doors to a life I had abandoned without notice over two months prior. No one in the industry aside from Lorenzo had heard a single peep, despite multiple phone and email inquiries to anyone who knew me. The story was brilliant. She got her happily ever after, the one she was supposed to go with all along. Her heart was whole and she was loved. I wanted to believe that Grant was my forever; however, accepting it seemed impossible.

  After a restless sleep, I awoke to an empty tent and the bustle of people preparing to vacate the desert. The other guys had already disassembled their tents and packed them away, waiting for me to wake before heading into different directions of the wind. Grant was nowhere to be found, making me uncomfortable.

  “Hey. Where’s Grant?”

  The guys looked at each other nervously. Twisting his ring on his finger, Mark came up and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “Lila, we’re sorry. He dipped an hour ago. Your stuff is in my truck. We tried to tell him not to do this, but he wouldn’t listen. I am taking you to Reno.”

  Horrified, I jerked away and looked all around me. Dust swirled about as reality hit. The fantasy was over and I fucking knew it. I furiously pulled the sleeping bags from the tent and threw them to the ground. The guys stayed near me, yet no one spoke out of fear. I was livid and cursing his name. Brian tried to console me, but I refused to have anything to do him. I wanted to get to Las Vegas as soon as I could and get on with my life. I was so embarrassed, I ran to Mark’s truck after a brief goodbye to the guys.

  “Get me to a town and I will rent a car. I am not your fucking problem.”

  Mark ignored me and kept driving. I couldn’t stop the tears from seeping down my cheeks as I rehashed the night before in my mind.

  “Lila, I know you’re pissed and you will probably never forgive him, but he fell pretty hard for you. He couldn’t tell you goodbye. He said he knew he wouldn’t be able to let you get on that plane.”

  I glared at Mark and his attempt to defend his friend. I was angrier that I wasn’t able to do it first, because I would have done the same damn thing. I pictured him driving north through the redwoods of California and the thick forest of Washington, stopping to bike the rugged trails and take in the ocean vistas. However, the butterflies were dead; they no longer fluttered in my belly at the thought of him.

  He was a coward, just like Hunter. It was just as well.

  By the time we arrived in Reno and I walked down the jet way to board the plane, the tears had dried and my resolve had hardened. I hugged Mark and thanked him for the ride, telling him to keep my bike in exchange for the trouble. I had no use for it now. He tried to refuse, but ended up accepting it graciously. On the road I had called Lorenzo to let him know when I was arriving and to get my hotel information. He had set me up at Caesar’s and arranged car service. I was absolutely disgusting from camping without a real shower. Between the layers of worn body paint and dust adhered by sweat, I looked like a desert nomad checking into the resort. I carefully placed towels under the luggage rack to prevent the carpet from getting coated in the thick dust.

  Lorenzo sent a text, informing me that dinner would be at eight and to dress elegantly. Being on The Strip afforded me the ability to run to the Forum shops and grab something last minute. With a few hours to pass, I crawled into the luxurious bed and tried my best to nap, but without success. I realized it had been some time since I had contacted my family and sent another brief email explaining the situation and to let my mother know I was alive. I would have to call her eventually, yet she was patient with my need for space.

  As I stepped into the white strapless dress with a floral shrug, the memories of my exodus surfaced. That night I had dressed, prepared to lose everything, and here I had nothing to lose. A slight smile curved my freshly glossed lips and my stride was long as I walked into the lobby to greet Lorenzo. Immediately I recognized the handsome Italian sitting on a sofa, engrossed in a slightly heated conversation. He held his finger up with a huge grin, while trying to get the other party off the phone.

  Something about him always made me ornery, and this certainly was no exception. Sliding the toe of my brand new stilettos against his calf, I smiled wickedly as he pulled my knee between his legs and stroked my thigh without pause. Ending the call, he licked his lips and went to stand.

  “Something tells me that you are looking for trouble, and based off of what you turned into me, you have grown quite fond of it.”

  I cocked my head and studied him in a new light. He looked tired, yet still dashing as ever. Holding my hands out to my side, I twirled around for approval. “I could use some trouble right now.”

  Giving me a smug smile and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Lorenzo was more than ready to meet my requests. He closed the distance between us and brushed his lips against mine softly. “I think you have come to the right place, and I make one hell of a tour guide.”

  Purring with a smile, I knew he wouldn’t let me down. “Well I guess that makes me a lucky girl, now doesn’t it?”

  When he extended his elbow out, I laced my arm through and moved towards the valet, ready to catch up with an old friend.

  Lorenzo kept his hand possessively on my thigh in the car and throughout dinner. He warned me of what was going to happen and to not act surprised by what he had negotiated. I noticed the agents eye our unusually comfortable interactions and try to make sense of why he would take me on as a client. Quietly I listened to the terms of the offer and watched him ruthlessly place demands. He knew full well what this was worth and would not allow me to take less.

  “Mr. Aberaci, two million for one story is more than Rectory House is prepared to offer as an advance. Although we have no doubt she will return the investment, very few authors get paid that.”

  The agents were nervous as the assistant scrambled to have a counteroffer ready before dinner was over. He was not satisfied with that answer and wiped his mouth before standing.

  “We are finished here. Thank you for wasting our time,” he said icily.

  I bit my tongue and went to join him, and immediately we were asked to sit back down. The men bickered quietly back and forth while Lorenzo winked at me. Inside I was freaking out. I had never been paid so much money before, yet Dinah knew this is what would happen. My excursions with Hunter and disappearance had made the story that much more desirable. Even Blank Page tried to make an offer and was immediately rebuked.

  Lorenzo squeezed my thigh to keep my heel from bouncing too loudly on the concrete floor. Beneath the tablecloth, I gripped his arm nervously. His steadfastness kept me calm as we waited for their response. And then it came.

  “We’ll do it. We need a few days to draw up the contract and will need Miss Keaton in New York to finalize the offer.”

  I froze in place, astounded. Unsure of what to do, I followed Lorenzo as he raised a glass and offered a toast.

  “To Lila Keaton. And to Rectory House.”

  Sipping the champagne, the same words played over and over again in my mind. I did it. I really did it.

  After accepting the offer, the mood at the table lightened considerably, and I was able to relax a bit and enjoy the dinner. Lorenzo kept control of
the conversation so as to redirect any questions about my past whereabouts from becoming too uncomfortable for me. Fuck, he was fabulous.

  “I’ve been writing and traveling. Spent some time in Moab and Colorado; it was lovely.”

  That was as much as I was willing to reveal. Still furious with Grant for leaving me alone with the guys, the bubbly alcohol did little to calm the storm within. Seeing my restlessness, Lorenzo excused us for the evening and headed out onto The Strip.

  With his hand still resting on my thigh, it crept higher until he was able to softly stroke against my silk panties. I did not stop him and opened my knees encouragingly. If sleeping with him was the least I could do for what he just pulled off, I was more than happy to oblige, especially since he refused a cut. I never considered myself a bed hopper, yet my run through men in the past few months would prove otherwise. Lorenzo was the perfect reminder of how foolish the previous week was. This was me one hundred percent, unapologetic about my sexuality and drive for success. Only when my heart was involved did things fall out of my control. Now seemed as good a time as any to lock it away, what little bit remained, especially looking into Lorenzo’s lust glazed eyes.

  “I have a present for you, Lila. I think you will like it. I made sure it was ready just for the occasion.”

  Intrigued, I danced my fingers over his groin and smiled. “Please tell me that it involves your cock.”

  Lorenzo shook his head and shifted his hips. “Maybe, since I have been such a good boy. But this is for you, and I know you are going to love it.”

  Pulling into the valet of another hotel on The Strip, we walked through the lobby and took an elevator up over twenty stories and gazed at the city below from the glass windows. Walking out onto a floor with only four doors, I was guided to the left and anxiously waited for the door to open. Rather than using a keycard, he knocked. Immediately a stunning woman in a black leather corset and sheer stockings with garters answered and ushered us in. Taking his jacket, she set it aside and directed us into the main room. Resting in the center was a sight that took my breath away. I turned to Lorenzo and gasped.