When a Star Falls (Stars Book 1)

by Rachael Eliker

  My cheeks burned and I shrieked, “How did you—?”

  “Ha! I knew it! You should see your face.” I buried my head in my hands, cursing Hannah and her intuition. More horrifying still, she taunted, “How do you think our parents would feel about you making out with a guy who isn’t even your boyfriend.”

  A long, sustained howl pierced the hallway as Mom walked in with Hannah’s children and had set the frozen turkey down on my nephew, Charlie’s, toes. Grateful for Hannah being distracted, I hung back in the kitchen while she rushed over to the door.

  “Did Grandma hurt your toes, big guy?” she asked Charlie, pulling off his boot to assess the damage. “C’mon. Let’s go put one of Grandma’s special dinosaur Band-Aids on it. That’ll make it feel better.” As she carried a whimpering Charlie up the stairs, she called one more warning over her shoulder, “You’d better not self-sabotage, Ruby or I’ll drag you back there myself to make sure you present yourself right.”

  Though Harper Music was eager to have me fly to New York City for a meeting, I’d managed to convince them to at least let me finish college first. Saying it was hard to concentrate the last few weeks of school was an understatement, and no matter how much Collin tutored me in physics, I was in very real danger of flunking. As fate would have it, I managed to eke by. Not twenty-four hours after my last final (which also meant I was foregoing the graduation ceremony, a fact which made my mother cry), Harper Music had me in a first-class seat on a plane bound for New York. I would’ve given anything to have Collin sitting next to me through the trip. Heck, even Hannah with her no-nonsense approach to life would’ve been welcome and probably quite useful in NYC. But, as it happened, I was flying solo. Collin was packing up his things to move to California, where his job with StarTech would start the following week. He’d kissed me goodbye at the departure drop off, but any luck attached to it felt like it was already wearing off. He promised to call when I got settled in my hotel, first thing in the morning and immediately following my audition. Still, it wouldn’t be the same. Holding his hand would’ve calmed my quivering heart. I looked down at my empty palms and swallowed back my chagrin.

  Though I’d convinced Vanessa to come with me to sing backup harmony, she’d finished her finals earlier in the week and had flitted away in her father’s private jet to meet him in Seattle where he was doing business with StarTech at an aerospace convention. I was fairly certain she just went for the party her dad was throwing after the press conference, but she had promised me she’d be in New York City with time to spare. I had my doubts since very little could convince Vanessa to arrive on time unless there was a chance for her to meet someone tall, muscular, and especially famous.

  The plane landed at LaGuardia with a jolt, and after the seatbelt sign turned off, I stood and pulled my suitcase out from the overhead compartment. Getting my guitar was a breeze—I wondered if Harper Music had put in a good word with the airline because the wash of relief that came over me as it slid down the baggage claim first was tangible. At least I wasn’t going to have to perform anything a cappella. I ignored the annoyed glances as I bumped a few shins with the case on my way out and practically ran to the exit, past the drivers—none of whom were holding a sign with my name—hoping for a breath of fresh air. The frigid December temperatures hit my face, and I reflexively inhaled, only to cough on idling car fumes and cigarette smoke. I crinkled my nose and hurried along to see if my ride was waiting at the curb for me.

  I didn’t have to walk far. A stick-thin young man with bushy hair and a red-tipped nose scrambled out of his gleaming black Lexus, as if late for something. He swiped at a tablet and turned it around, walking swiftly in my direction. I saw my name in big black letters, so I meekly smiled and approached him. I imagined he must’ve been able to spot me from a mile away by the bewildered look on my face but he seemed oblivious to my presence.

  “Are you from Harper Music?” I asked as he nearly rushed past me to get inside to where the other drivers were waiting.

  “Ms. Hawkins?”

  I stifled a snort and reluctantly corrected him. “It’s Harkwad.”

  He scrunched his face and turned the tablet toward him to read it, clearing his throat. “So it is. My apologies. I’m Harrison. Welcome to New York. May I?” He took my suitcase and guitar and carefully put them in the trunk, then opened the door for me to slide in. If the music company was trying to butter me up, they were doing an impressive job.

  Harrison climbed into the driver’s seat and adjusted his mirrors. Putting on his turn signal, he lurched into traffic, the tires squealing and eliciting a sharp, long horn blast from a rather infuriated taxi cab.

  “Sorry,” Harrison muttered. “Chauffeur is a relatively new addition to my resume.”

  I cocked my head and met his terrified eyes in the rearview mirror. “You mean you aren’t the regular driver?”

  Harrison shook his head and turned around to face me. “The other guy—Alfred, I think his name is—is occupied with another client today.”

  “Another client, meaning someone more important than me?” I asked with a sly smile.

  Harrison pitifully grinned and nodded his head. “I’m here as a wardrobe intern but when the need arises, I’m expected to fill in at a moment’s notice. It’s just…” he trailed off.

  I took a wild guess. “You hate driving?”

  Harrison itched along his hairline and reluctantly nodded.

  “Tell you what. I’ll keep my mouth shut and let you focus on driving. We don’t have too far to go, do we?”

  Harrison gave me his first genuine smile that wreathed his entire face and said, “This really is your first trip to New York?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Far to go isn’t equivalent to time to travel.”

  Harrison worked up the nerve and pulled away from the airport while I kept to myself. He mentioned we were headed to Manhattan, where I’d be staying the night before meeting with what Mr. Drake had described as him and ‘a few other people,’ the following morning. I couldn’t help but be the typical tourist as we drove, gawking at all the iconic NYC sites and snapping a few pictures on my phone. Smirking, I sent a picture message to Hannah of what I was pretty certain was the top of the Statue of Liberty, just to rub it in.

  Jealous?

  It took a few minutes for the pictures to get sent as we navigated the streets, walled by impossibly high skyscrapers. My phone chimed, and Hannah had sent me back a picture of my three-year old niece, Chloe, with half of the hair on the left side of her hair sheared off.

  Having an at home spa day with Chloe after

  she decided to cut some gum out of her hair.

  Way more fun than NYC.

  Then, a few moments later, another trill:

  Mom says don’t get mugged.

  I smiled to myself and put my phone in my pocket as we pulled up to a Marriott hotel. I got out, thanked Harrison, who reminded me he’d be picking me up tomorrow morning at nine sharp, then was ushered inside by the bellman, checked in, and led to my room. The bellman opened the door for me and set my suitcase and guitar on the luggage racks as I stepped around him, gasping at the room. It was an executive suite, beautifully decked out and with a fantastic view of the city lights, which were just starting to twinkle as the sky faded into deeper shades of blue. A grand piano gleamed in the living room, and through double doors, I could see a huge bed flush with decorative pillows. A girl could get used to this.

  The bellman shut the door behind me, and after doing one more three-sixty to soak in my phenomenal surroundings, I hollered triumphantly and dove onto the bed. I rolled over and hugged an armful of pillows to my chest, exhausted from the long day of traveling and fretting over the next day but still feeling the pleasant buzz of adrenaline that’d been ever-present since Mr. Drake’s phone call. This was all becoming so real. Ruby Harkwad—professional songwriter and singer. Celebrity. I twirled the ends of my hair until it was knotted around my finger and decided I needed
to talk to someone. After calling my mother to reassure her that I’d made it to my hotel suite without anyone pulling a gun on me and attempting to steal my loose change and the packet of gum I had stashed in my tiny purse, I hung up and dialed Collin. It rang several times then went to voicemail. Slightly distraught, I decided not to leave a message. I checked the clock—nine pm. Surely he wasn’t still dealing with the movers so late?

  I resisted the urge to grumble and straightened myself as I sat up on the cushiony bed. Turning on the television, I surfed the channels until I landed on reruns of When Calls the Heart to keep me company. I turned down the volume for background noise, made sure my phone’s ringtone volume was all the way up and sat on the edge of the bed, and one more time for good measure, ran through the songs that were going to make Harper Music beg for me to sign with them.

  Chapter Seven

  I woke with a start the next morning, disoriented. It took me a few moments to remember I wasn’t in Nebraska anymore—it wasn’t every day I woke up in NYC, on the tipping point of my musical career. I moved my hand out from under my face, immediately wondering why it was so moist. Feeling the side of my lips, I realized I’d been cupping a pool of my own saliva that I’d drooled copiously into my palm. I gagged on the horrible taste on my tongue that came from an entire night of mouth breathing, and right at my temples, it felt like someone had put on a vise and was slowly tightening it. My guitar was lying next to me, along with a tray of picked over food I’d ordered from room service in an attempt to crowd out the butterflies that kept flitting in my gut. Maybe I should have forced myself to eat more because as far as I could tell, they were alive and well.

  I sat up and wiped my drool-soaked hand on a tissue and grabbed my phone. It was only six, and though I was pretty sure I had drifted off sometime after one, I was wide awake. My heart sank as I realized Collin had never called. At first, I swallowed the emotions that clumped in my throat and blinked back the tears filming over my eyes, but my self-pity eventually gave way to a smoldering anger that radiated from my very core. How could Collin be so unsupportive during what might be the most important event of my life?

  I debated whether or not to try Collin’s phone again while brushing—twice to make sure my teeth were extra sparkly—then decided I might as well. He probably just forgot, the angelic, understanding voice in my head whispered. I held the phone up to my ear while I spit toothpaste into the sink, but it went directly to voicemail. I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone on the counter. The devilish side of me cheered at the thought of chewing Collin up and spitting him out the moment my meeting with Harper Music was finished.

  I showered (and made sure to shave, like Hannah insisted, even though I was ninety-nine percent sure no one was going to see my armpits) and got ready, wearing a cute flowery dress that Vanessa insisted would play to my charming personality, paired with a jean jacket and some cute ankle booties. It made me feel stylish and approachable yet unpresumptuous. I left my hair down, running the flat iron across it to ease the few natural waves in my hair and really make it shine. When I finished, my hair was silky and smooth. Simple. That’s what I did best.

  I forced myself to eat the banana I’d apparently ordered with my meal of a cheeseburger and fries last night, even though I had zero appetite and was sure it was going to come right back up. The last thing I needed to do was pass out at the meeting today.

  Half an hour before Harper Music was scheduled to pick me up and drive me the ten blocks to their office, I picked up my guitar, stopping in front of the mirror by the door. I drew in air until it felt like my lungs might pop, then let out a huge, shuttering sigh. “Ruby Harkwad,” I said, forcing myself not to cringe at my ridiculous surname, “you were born for this.” A part of me believed the pep talk. The rest? I shoved that back-stabbing little devil out of my mind.

  Down in the cozy hotel lobby that was all marble floors and wood paneling, I meekly tiptoed toward the exit, unnerved by the sound of my own high heels echoing through the space. The doorman greeted me, but I couldn’t find my voice and only nodded in acknowledgement. Outside, there was still a bite of cold in the air that made almost painful goosebumps prickle my skin. Immediately, I wished I’d put on some leggings but I wasn’t about to retreat back inside in case I missed Harrison. I looked left and right but didn’t yet see the Lexus that had been parked at the airport. I shivered and tried to stay out of everyone’s way. Hordes of people were already bustling along the sidewalks, and wherever they were going, they were in a huge hurry to get there.

  A conversation among the background noise caught my attention. “You can’t sleep here,” said the doorman to someone slumped against the building.

  The loiterer cleared his throat and apologized, “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It’s just that I’m waiting for someone who’s staying in this hotel.”

  Collin?

  I spun around, my guitar case hitting a portly man with a briefcase right in the knees. Once I apologized profusely to him, I wound my way through the race of people streaming along the sidewalk. “Collin!” I shouted happily, running the rest of the distance to him. I leapt into his arms and wrapped my legs around his hips, throwing him off balance as he staggered back and into the unforgiving wall of the hotel. The anger that’d been fermenting dissipated and all I could seem to register was sheer joy. I kissed him hard on the mouth, and when I ran out of breath and forgot about how cold it was outside, I cradled my chin in my favorite spot between his shoulders and neck. “What are you doing here?” I murmured.

  “It’s a long story…” Collin said.

  “I’ve got time,” I said as my legs slid down and my feet hit the ground. “I’m a bit early for my ride.”

  “I see,” Collin answered.

  “So, are the packers all finished?”

  Collin nodded, reaching out his hand and intertwining his fingers between mine as he yawned and rubbed his other hand down his face. “They finished yesterday afternoon. Problem is, there’s a blizzard on the way and the movers postponed picking up my stuff for a couple of days. So, I decided to hightail it to the airport to make it here before the storm.”

  “Your phone died, didn’t it?” I finished his thought.

  “I’m pretty certain my phone charger is packed somewhere with my bathroom supplies,” Collin chuckled.

  Elbowing him in the ribs, I asked, “How did you convince anyone to give you a doctorate degree? It’s like you don’t have a shred of common sense.”

  “Maybe.” Collin pulled me into a hug, and I snuggled into his warm body, breathing in the faint scent of musky cologne that still clung to his clothes. “Besides, you’re the most down to earth person I’ve ever met. The living embodiment of common sense. You’ll keep me grounded, won’t you?”

  “I prefer to think of myself as extremely reasonable and safely cautious.”

  A black Lexus cut across two lanes of traffic and practically lurched over the curb, making Collin and me both jump back. Harrison stepped out of the driver’s seat, his brown eyes wide and his whole face flushed.

  “Good morning, Ms. Hawkins,” Harrison said with his last ounce of dignity, like he hadn’t broken about a half dozen traffic laws and nearly run us over. I didn’t bother correcting my name—Ruby Hawkins had a nice ring to it.

  Harrison looked exceptionally smart in his tailored gray suit, which he buttoned as he walked over to collect my things, putting them in the trunk and opening the door for me to climb in. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion when Collin slid in after me, but like a good chauffeur, he didn’t ask questions.

  “This is Collin,” I offered once Harrison had situated himself again in the driver’s seat. “He’s here for…”

  “Moral support,” Collin finished for me.

  Harrison held up his hand. “No explanation needed,” Harrison dismissed. “It was made abundantly clear in my fifty-second chauffeur training that under no circumstances am I to ever ask my riders anything. You
could get in the car with the President of the United States, and I wouldn’t bat an eye.”

  “I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you,” I quipped. “You look very nice in your suit, by the way.”

  Harrison’s face lit up, and he turned around in his seat. “You think so?” Both Collin and I nodded. “I made this myself. Menswear is actually my specialty but when I got the internship with Harper Music, I couldn’t turn it down.”

  “I’m sure you dress Harper Music’s stars just as sharply.”

  Harrison grinned widely and said, “We humble servants in wardrobe do our best.”

  Harrison took a few deep breaths before putting on his turn signal and speeding out into traffic. Nonchalantly, I put on my seatbelt and motioned for Collin to do the same. He complied, then slung his arm over my shoulders and regaled me with his whirlwind trip to surprise me. I knew he was trying to distract me from the worry of my upcoming meeting, and soon, he had me in stitches as he recounted how he’d fallen asleep on a rather large-chested woman during one of his flights.

  “Have you heard from Vanessa?” Collin asked as I took a deep breath and patted under my eyes, making sure makeup wasn’t streaming down my cheeks.

  I stiffened in my seat. I knew I’d forget something! I felt the blood draining from my face and the banana I’d eaten churning in my stomach. Was it just me or was Manhattan spinning? Trying to avoid a panic attack, I attempted an unruffled, one-shouldered shrug. “I’m sure she’ll be there.”

  “You think so? I’ve seen her get distracted by the right pair of shoes.”

  I swatted him playfully in the stomach and he grunted like he was mortally wounded. “Shut up.” Collin raised an eyebrow, and I sighed, exasperated but I knew he was right. Vanessa needed babysitting. “I’ll call her really quick.”