Catch a Falling Star (In Love in the Limelight Book 3)

by Geralyn Corcillo

  “And you turned the school around.”

  “On the field and off,” Colin confirmed.

  It was weird. He was agreeing with her about his success, but he didn't seem as happy as Wendy thought the accomplishment warranted.

  “And you don't work during the summer?” she clarified.

  “Sure. A few mornings a week.”

  “That's where you've been disappearing to in the mornings?”

  “Hardly disappearing.”

  She remembered the things he'd said to her. Wendy, you don't even know me. “I'm sorry I never asked,” she murmured.

  “It's okay. I never told you, either. Do you have any other jobs I don't know about?”

  “Nope,” she said on a sigh. “Just the one where your sister makes me flirt with and kiss her husband every week.”

  Colin sighed. “Yeah, I know about that one.”

  Chapter 32

  RAY

  TOM?

  Oh, shit! What the fuck is Tom Glenn doing in Rocheforte?! He can't be here. Not now. Not when things are so new and precarious for Wendy and Colin. Tom has the power to ruin EVERYTHING!

  I stare out the window of Millie's, preposterously frozen as the world goes on around me, like I'm stuck in the closing credits of Police Squad.

  He sees me. Our eyes lock. Oh, no. He looks as dumbstruck to see me as I am to see him. I shake myself back into action, throw way too much money on the table, and rush out to the sidewalk.

  “Tom?”

  “Ray?” he barks. “Do you have a hand in this? Does Lola? And what the hell are you doing to your hair?”

  “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Ray! This is an emergency!”

  “Not for me. I'm off the clock.”

  Tom almost lunges for me then. Okay. Maybe he takes, like, a half-step towards me. But it's enough to make me see HIM.

  To make me see the guy with Tom.

  The tall, chiseled, gorgeously commanding guy with Tom. The guy who looks like he stepped out of a Gillette ad.

  “Hey,” Troy-fucking-Donahue says, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder and easing him back.

  I can feel myself bristle. And I can see Tom noticing.

  “Ray,” Tom says. “This is Brent. We met in Guadalupe.

  “You two flew in from Guadalupe today? Both of you?”

  Tom moves closer to Brent. “We really hit it off. He wanted to tag along. For support.”

  “Right,” I say. “Not to see Wendy Hunter or get in the middle of a big tabloid story. But to be here for you.”

  Instead of defending himself or Brent when he so clearly can't, Tom strikes. “So, are you here with anyone?”

  God, why don't I keep my mouth shut?

  Now I have Tom throwing Brent in my face. And Brent is so much better-looking than I am, even on a good hair day. The way William Holden is better looking than Humphrey Bogart in Sabrina. And we all know who Audrey really chose.

  But I cannot let this guy get to me. Not when so much is on the line. I slip into my mantra. Channel Lola. Channel Lola. Channel Lola.

  “Nope,” I say in a chipper voice. “Not here with anyone.”

  Tom smirks. And so does that asshat Brent.

  “You see, Tom,” I say. “When we broke up, it didn't leave a gaping hole in my life that I needed to run right out and fill. In fact, after you, liberty feels pretty damn nice.”

  That gets his hackles up. “And you're using your precious liberty to destroy the show?”

  “What? No! I care about the show. And all the people on it.”

  “Then what am I hearing about Wendy Hunter falling in love with Lola's brother and moving to New Orleans?”

  “I don't know what you're hearing. I'm happy to say I am no longer privileged to such information.”

  “Ray, get serious! This could kill the entire show! TV's top-rated show!”

  “Tom. Chill. Wendy is not moving here. Are you nuts? This town doesn't even have one decent shoe shop. The show is not in any danger. But it's pretty romantic, right? The whole love story with Wendy and Colin?”

  “What?!”

  “Don't you see? If the world thinks Wendy is so in love that she's actually considering making her home in Rocheforte, at least part of the time, that kind of romance can only help the ratings of the show. And the fact that she's in love with Lola's brother? And Lola's in love with Arlen? Tom, this is ratings gold.”

  “Pretending our most precious star is about to move to the swamps of Louisiana is a GOOD THING?”

  “Now you're getting it,” Ray says, almost as if he's cheering Tom on.

  “But it's not true?”

  “It's as true as any publicity.” Ray sidles up to Tom then, ducking his head and getting all conspiratorial. “Actually, your showing up right now is perfect. It will make everyone think that Wendy IS moving here part time, and you've come to work out the details with her. This will really heat up the love story!”

  Tom jerks back. “You want me to go along with this? How can she even be in love with Lola's brother? Some Podunk Jim-Bob coach from the sticks?”

  Ray raises his brows and quirks his lips. “Oh, right. Like you weren't drooling over the guy all damn day at Lola's wedding.”

  Tom steps back, then squares his shoulders. “Well … okay. Yes. The guy can dance.”

  “That he can,” Ray agrees, remembering on a sigh.

  “Ray! Focus! Are you telling me that you're here trying to help Wendy peddle the story that she's fallen for the guy? But she hasn't?”

  “Shhhhh! Keep your voice down! All I know is that Wendy has no intention of destroying or leaving the show.”

  “So, on your word that everything's okay, I'm supposed to go along with this?”

  “Not on my word. Ask Wendy. In fact ...” Ray steps back and starts tapping on his phone. “Yes! I'm texting Wendy right now. You two can have a big, public meeting. The world can see that the studio is on board with doing whatever it takes to make Wendy's transition to New Orleans doable. This is so perfect!”

  “What! No! I cannot be a part of this … this … this charade!”

  “Well, you can't turn around and leave. You only just got here. You may as well play your part to the hilt.”

  “I am the head of the studio, NOT a day player. I'm leaving. NOW. And don't tell a soul you saw me!”

  Tom turns and pretty literally runs away from me, with a clearly disappointed Brent in tow.

  Good. I got rid of Tom. Mission accomplished.

  But Tom is with Brent. Tom went right out and got all up close and personal with some other guy. And he had to pick James Bond to do it with. Tom is a jerk. Tom is with someone else.

  Chapter 33

  THE STORY OF WENDY AND COLIN

  Practice was almost over. Maybe 45 minutes left. And Colin couldn't wait to get home. Wendy would be there. She'd stayed at the house all day, catching up on work she had to do for her charities and things she had to straighten out about her schedule. So she would be in his house, waiting, maybe, when he got home. Not that he should be thinking about her.

  As the play ended out of bounds, he blew his whistle and then he almost swallowed it. There she was. Wendy. Across the field, walking to the bench where Marcus sat icing his knee.

  And damn it, he could feel himself get all shivery up to his scalp like he was sixteen years old. God, Wendy was incredible, with her rosy sundress and her wild hair. Not that she looked all decked out. Nope. It was like she'd thrown on the first clothes she could find so she could leave the house. To come see him.

  Wendy saw Marcus sitting on the bench and she took a seat next to him.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling.

  “Hey.” But Marcus wasn't smiling.

  “Is it bad?” Wendy wondered whether the kid had suffered a season-ending injury.

  Marcus looked down at his leg. “Nah. Knocked it hard today is all.”

  “Into what?”

  “Carmen's head. He was wearing his helmet, s
o I took the worst of it. But it'll be fine.”

  “Oh,” Wendy said. “Good.” She looked across the field and watched Colin calling the plays, clapping his hands even as he held his clipboard, whistling the plays dead. Regular coach stuff. Everyday Colin stuff. She started to feel all fluttery in her chest so she turned back to Marcus.

  “So ... is something else bothering you?”

  Marcus huffed and looked mad.

  “Marcus?”

  “Stupid test.”

  “What test?”

  “ACT. Have to take it to get into college, even to play football. Gotta get my June scores up by September. It's so stupid.”

  Wendy nodded. “I remember the ACT. Hey, maybe I could help you.”

  He looked at her. “You rocked the test, Miss Hunter?”

  Wendy laughed. “No, actually. I didn't do so well on my ACT. But I'm pretty good, or at least I've become pretty good, at figuring stuff out.”

  “Like what stuff?”

  “Well, characters, mostly. Every time I get a new script. But money stuff, too. I've had to figure out what to do with my money so I didn't have to leave it in the hands of other people who could rob me.”

  Marcus laughed. “Yeah, now that would be worth figuring out.”

  “Yeah,” Wendy said. “When it's worth it, it makes a difference. And this test is between you and college football.” Wendy looked at him.

  He looked at Wendy. “It's not that easy.”

  “I know. The good stuff is always hard.”

  He shrugged.

  Wendy shrugged. She smiled and took out her phone. Marcus focused his attention back on the field.

  In a few minutes, Wendy spoke up. “Hey, Marcus. I found this site that says the ACT isn't so much a hard test, but it's a tricky test, and you just have to figure out some of the tricks. And there's free classes at the Rocheforte library on Thursdays.”

  Marcus grunted.

  “Marcus, you watch game film, don't you?”

  He turned to her. “What do you know about game film?”

  “Hey, I watch Inside the NFL,” she said, defending her position.

  “You do?”

  Wendy shrugged. “I have. I've been watching for about a year.”

  Marcus smiled like he just figured out an inside joke. “Since you started dating Coach.”

  Wendy smiled. “Yeah. And I know you guys watch game film to figure out stuff about the other teams.”

  “Coach is bad-ass about us watching game film. And he gets madder than a hornet if we try to blow it off.”

  “So you see?” Wendy said, nudging him. “The classes are your game film for the ACT. You can figure some of it out if you commit to knowing the enemy.” He looked at her and Wendy saw the gleam of possibility in his eye.

  “You think?”

  “Do you? Does Coach making you watch game film actually help?”

  And Marcus's face split into a big grin.

  “C'mon,” Wendy said, sliding closer to him. “We can start right now. What's something you don't like about the test?”

  “The science.” He didn't even have to pause to think about it. “I don't know ANY of that stuff.”

  “Okay.” Wendy started tapping and swiping at her phone. “Hey, it says here not to worry if you don't know science. The science part isn't about knowing science. They throw a lot of science mumbo jumbo at you, but really, they just want you to look at the right chart or graph and tell them what they want to know.”

  “But how am I supposed to do that if I don't know what they're talking about?”

  “Wait a sec,” Wendy said, going back to tapping and swiping at her phone. “I'm going to show you.” When Wendy found what she was looking for, she held the screen of her phone to her chest as she looked at Marcus. “Marcus, where is the patella?”

  Marcus scrunched up his face. “I don't know. Italy?”

  Wendy bit her lip and shook her head.

  “See, Miss Hunter? I don't know.”

  “Okay,” she said. “A question says Victor Cruz tore his patellar tendon. Go to the picture and tell me where the patella is.” She turned her phone to face Marcus, and showed him the heartbreaking picture of Victor Cruz downed on the field, holding his knee as he screamed in pain.

  Marcus looked at the picture then back at Wendy. “He tore his patellar tendon?”

  “Yep. Where is it?”

  “In the knee?”

  “Yes!” And Wendy bounced up and down.

  “There's football questions on the ACT?”

  “No, but it's all the same principle. You don't know what they're talking about in the question, but they tell you where to look. So all you have to do is answer based on what you see.”

  “Really?”

  “For some of the questions. There's lots of cool strategies like that. Stuff you can learn from classes, just like you learn from game film.”

  Marcus nodded. “Can we try some more?”

  And Wendy got so embroiled in looking up stuff to quiz Marcus on that she didn't even notice as the field lights came on and practice ended.

  But Marcus eventually noticed. “Hey, Coach.”

  Wendy looked up to see Colin sitting near by, his back leaning up against the blocking sled. “Hey, Coach,” she echoed with a smile.

  “We keeping you, Coach?” And Marcus moved to get up.

  Colin waved him back down. “No, it's cool. I don't mind chillin'. You guys sound like you're having fun.”

  “How long have you been sitting there?” Wendy asked.

  Colin smiled. “Long enough to know that Marcus is going to be busy on Thursdays.”

  Marcus smiled as he stood up.

  Colin took the ice pack. “How's the knee?”

  “Good.”

  “Your ride waiting?”

  Marcus looked across the field to where his brother sat on the hood of his car with his girlfriend. “Guess so.”

  “A lap around the track and then take off.”

  “Right, Coach.”

  As Marcus ran off, loosening up his leg, Colin sat on the bench next to Wendy. “You know about the ACT?”

  Wendy shook her head. “I know about being scared of the big bad unknown. And I know what it can feel like to have someone in your corner. That's all.”

  “That's a lot.”

  Wendy blushed and looked down. Colin ran a finger along her chin, and she looked up at him.

  That's when the bright light of the flash smacked into them. In a reflex, Colin looked over to the guy with the camera hiding under the bleachers.

  Wendy just closed her eyes and smiled.

  “Colin,” she said quietly, “let's go home.”

  Chapter 34

  THE STORY OF WENDY AND COLIN

  When they walked into the kitchen, Wendy seemed to surge away from him towards the fridge. “What should we have for dinner? Grill the steaks, maybe?”

  Colin tried to shake himself out of the haze he was in.

  “Colin?” Wendy looked back toward him. “Steaks?”

  “What? Yeah, sure. Wait. Steak? You eat steak?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I was just thinking of you and Marcus. He was scared and unsure, but you were like, 'C'mere, I'll hang with you.'”

  She lifted her chin. “Glad I finally did something you're okay with.”

  And as she turned toward the fridge, Colin touched her arm. She turned back to him.

  He was looking at her with a sort of fierce confusion. “Wendy, it's not like that. Is that what you think? That I'm always judging you, to see if you measure up?”

  “Aren't you? For Pete's sake, you think more of my assistant Jeanne than you do of me.”

  “What?”

  “I make too much money. I screw things up. I'm not nearly as good as the people I help let alone the people I hire. But bravo. Tonight, you actually thought I was an okay person.”

  He moved in closer. “Wendy, you are an okay person. More than okay. Way more
than okay.”

  “Then why don't you like me?”

  “You think I don't like you?”

  “I'm not talking about sex!”

  “Neither am I! Wendy, I think about you all the damn time. I've been thinking about you since September. But God, at the same time, I don't want to think about what you're capable of doing to me.”

  “This fake engagement. You're still mad that I did that to you and you can't get over it.”

  Colin took Wendy in his arms. “Wendy, don't you get it? You announced to the world that we were engaged. Then you came down here and stormed right into my life and … and...” His heart was beating so fast.

  Her eyebrow shot up. “And?”

  He pulled her closer. “And I liked it.”

  Wendy opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  “I like that you thought of me. When you were under the gun, you thought of me. You trusted me. And I liked it. And I like that the world thinks you're mine because that means I get to be near you, at least for a while. You're actually staying with me for three weeks. I shouldn't like it that you plowed into my life. But I do.” He put his hand on her face, her neck, ran his fingers into her hair.

  “You like having me here?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Me?”

  “You.” And his mouth crashed down onto hers as he wrapped himself around her tiny body.

  Wendy stood on her tiptoes to get easier access to his lips, his tongue. She slid her hand under his shirt to grab him by the hips as she pressed closer.

  “Wendy,” he groaned, running his hands down her back, cupping her ass.

  And God, the sounds she was making deep in her throat, like she would die on the spot if he let her go. He moved to bite and kiss his way down her neck.

  “Colin,” she panted. “Colin. Please.”

  He pulled back, his face still so close to hers. “Anything,” he said.

  “Colin, please.” But she wasn't pulling away. She was sinking into him, kissing him again. “Please, let's go upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?”

  “And not on the floor.”

  In less than a minute, Wendy's back hit the Giants comforter on Colin's bed and she pulled him on top of her.

  “I promise I won't break in two,” she said, wrapping her legs around him.