Falling Like Stars

by Eve Kasey

  Instead of going to sleep alone in his own bed that night, he slipped downstairs to her apartment. She answered the door pajama-clad and sleepy-eyed and led him to her bed. Flush against her warm form and inundated with her smell, Chen drifted off and didn’t wake.

  31

  “More wine, ladies?”

  Rosie and Elle shook their heads in unison at the owner of Victory’s nicest restaurant. Tall and lean, super fit for a forty-something pasta purveyor, Lorenzo smiled radiantly. Once again, he had outdone himself with both food and service.

  “No more for me,” Rosie said. “Seriously. You’ve put me into another food coma I’m afraid I’ll never come out of, Lorenzo.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. I’d say, ‘Let me know if you need anything else,’ but I’ll heed your warning.” He flashed another grin.

  Elle sighed happily as he walked away. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised by how bearable this blip of a town is.”

  “I think you’re in a good headspace,” Rosie answered, a smile on her lips. “You’re truly happy for the first time in a long time. Rose-colored glasses, as they say.”

  Elle giggled. A fitting description coming from a sweet-tempered woman named Rosie. “You’re right. With Chen, I have the fairy tale.” Just not the ending. She kept that tidbit to herself.

  “Prince Charming in a flight suit, whose noble steed is a billion-dollar spaceplane.”

  Elle smiled, musing on that. He had no kingdoms to bestow, but Chen was full of gestures large and small, and the incessant teasing that was his true love language. “We said, ‘I love you.’”

  Rosie’s face crinkled in delight. “I figured you were both too stubborn to ever say that out loud.”

  Elle snickered. Rosie wasn’t wrong. Their unplanned declaration had fit their dynamic perfectly. With Chen, with those three little words, she finally knew real love—unguarded, all in love. Loving Chen was feeling the sun on all sides.

  “Well, I’m super happy for you. I adore him.”

  “I know you do. And I adore Tate. It’s important, don’t you think, to like the man who claims the heart of your best friend?”

  Rosie opened her mouth, but Elle cut her off. “The truth, Rosie.”

  She studied Elle for a lingering moment, then nodded. “It’s complicated. Lovely, but complicated, with Tate.”

  Elle noted the gentle way Rosie treated Tate’s name, spoken softly, as if even the word was a precious thing.

  “I figured. But complicated means something is actually happening.” Elle leaned forward to squeeze Rosie’s hand. “I’m proud of you for even considering letting him in.”

  “He’s trying so hard to prove he’s worthy, and I can’t ignore it. I can’t ignore him.”

  “The handsomest man on the planet? Certainly not.”

  “He’s more than that.” Rosie sat back against the booth with a sigh.

  “I know. He’s a dream boss, too. He and Quinn love all my ideas. Legal and finance approve them all. There’ve been no challenges with the experiential planning.”

  Rosie’s honey-colored eyes studied her. “I get the feeling you don’t trust the lack of challenges.”

  Elle pursed her lips, trying to formulate her thoughts. “It’s the lack of immediate impact that I don’t like. I miss it.” It was a sentiment she’d shared with Rosie before. The Director of Experience role under Tate brought none of the crazy expectations William Markham had or that she’d put on herself. Her job was to maximize the magic in an inherently enchanting situation. It shouldn’t matter that she was working for clients she may never know, but it did.

  Rosie nodded. Her eyes dropped to their empty dessert plates, then back up at Elle. “I’m going to Tate’s house for the weekend. Did he tell you?”

  Elle nearly choked. “Uh, no. Under the guise of seeing the house? Who invited whom?”

  “He did say, ‘Come see the villa,’ but he also suggested bringing an overnight bag.”

  Elle couldn’t hide her gleeful grin. “Well, I’m sure the villa is massive. It’ll take time to fully study the place. He’s thirty miles outside of town, right? Spending the weekend is just good time management.”

  Pink crept up Rosie’s neck. “I know he wants to spend time with me, Elle. He’s honest with me. To a fault, sometimes. It’s his way of…”

  “Winning your trust?” Elle filled in. “Is his honesty working?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Elle suspected a weekend alone together would sway her friend one way or another.

  She spent the early part of the following week trying to decipher her friends’ weekend from Tate’s body language. Unfortunately, the placid man gave nothing away. Neither did Rosie, since she was back in San Diego for the week. She’d kept mum, despite Elle’s pestering by text.

  “Why do you keep looking at me all squinty like that?”

  “Hmm?” Elle feigned confusion and brought her attention to the stack of papers in front of her and Tate. She’d corner Rosie when she returned for their design meeting on Friday.

  “Contract for the landscape architect Rosie recommended.” Damn, even when he said her name, his smooth face remained impassive. “Frontage improvements along the road, a brand-new driveway experience, pathways between the hotel and the runway, and bleachers along the south side. What else do we need to add to the scope?”

  “What about a patio at the back of the hangar? Staff are part of the OrbitAll experience, too. Might be nice to have an option besides the lunchroom for meals and breaks. It’d be expensive, though.”

  Tate’s clear eyes crinkled in a smile. “All your ideas are. I should have known Director of Experience was code for Director of Spending.”

  Elle shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll make you more than you spend. What else have we got?”

  “The hotel is the biggest piece, but Abode is handling all those contracts.”

  She nodded, studying the different parts of the journey map scrawled across the whiteboard. “I think we should consider a set itinerary while the guests are on site. You want communal meals, so we could start there. Obviously, the safety trainings will need to be done as a collective. Group press conferences will assure that even your lottery winners get a moment in the spotlight.”

  “Sure. Draft up a plan.”

  Later that night, she had an itinerary drafted that she felt satisfied with. The planning was coming together, one piece of the OrbitAll experience at a time. She had only been there a month, but with Chen, Tate, Rosie, and Quinn so involved and responsive, the planning was flowing. Their cash reserves didn’t hurt, either. Wherever Elle’s imagination went, the Geier wallets followed.

  The biggest gaps were with the flight itself. There were still no clear regulations around what would and wouldn’t be allowed when their commercial team left Earth and entered space sixty-two miles above the ground. OrbitAll and companies like them were blazing trails where regulation didn’t exist, which made planning both easier and harder.

  A sensation she was becoming familiar with the closer she grew to Chen. Life was easier with him, and would be a hell of a lot harder when he left.

  As she left her office for the night, she thanked her lucky stars for the six hundred-plus days they had left.

  32

  “I can’t believe that’s your fucking job, flying rich people to space.”

  Vadim’s rumbling voice conveyed his disbelief.

  Flying rich people to space would be his job if there were a way to stay in the States. For now, his job was getting someone else ready to do that. He sighed. “I can’t believe we’re in the same country.” The shrill sound of seagulls came through the line, then he heard a shuffling as Vadim covered the microphone. Muffled words reached him. A drink order.

  “I like Miami, brother. I’m on a bed on a beach. Makes me miss Barcelona. We had so much fun there, you remember?”

  Chen could picture Vadim on a sprawling bed on the Florida beach, drink in han
d, and if there wasn’t a gorgeous woman with him yet, there would be. Vadim attracted women like magnets attracted metal. Covered head-to-toe in tattoos, with piercing eyes and a killer smile, women fell at his feet.

  “Barely,” Chen replied. “And what are you complaining about? You fly a whole team of rich guys around the world. All I’m doing right now are safety revisions and simulations. Besides, now you’ve logged way more hours in the cockpit than I have.”

  Vadim swore loudly in Russian. “You know I’d give anything to go up.”

  Chen did know. Vadim came from a tiny, poor village in Russia, worked harder than anyone in college—played harder, too—and after two years of grueling cosmonaut training and testing back in Russia, hadn’t been selected for the space program. A few years later, when Chen joined the Chinese space agency, he’d been both afraid and dying to tell Vadim. The guilt of achieving of what Vadim hadn’t, with pure luck, persisted. Vadim deserved what Chen had. If he could give him this job, he would.

  “Please. You’d give up nights with supermodels and Rolexes for Christmas?”

  “The supermodels tag along for the footballers.”

  “Are you telling me none have ever found their way to your hotel room?”

  Vadim chuckled. “A few of them may have gotten lost.”

  In college, Chen would have been envious of Vadim’s freedom with women. Hell, he had been, especially when his relationship with Fleur, his girlfriend, started to unravel. But Chen had the real deal, the whole deal, with Elle. Something greater than the sum of its parts. Not even an expiring visa subtracted from that.

  “I have to tell you, man. I met someone. She’s…” Chen trailed off.

  “She must be, if you, of all people, don’t have words for it, brother. You never stop running your mouth.”

  Chen snickered. He missed Vadim. He was a keeper of Chen’s shame, his only safe space until Elle. But even that was different. Chen would withhold information from Elle, like the fact that his parents wouldn’t approve of her, if doing so kept Elle’s heart safer. There were no such requirements for Vadim.

  “How long are you here in the States? Any chance of a visit to California?”

  “No.” Vadim sighed. “We’re just here for the friendly. Back to Sevilla tomorrow. You know it’s rarely more than a night anywhere.”

  “Got a tattoo shop scoped?”

  “Of course. And a design based on some windows I saw driving through the city. Chen, brother, I gotta go. I’m about to have company.” His voice had taken on the telltale predatory tone of a conquest that needed no effort to win. “Not this trip, but you will see me soon. I promise.”

  “See you soon, brother.”

  Chen dropped his phone onto the desk in the cold, barren office he rarely used.

  Within seconds, the door opened and Quinn entered. She leaned her head back and shouted into the hallway, “Found him, Elle.” The head of Geier Group’s PR took a seat in front of him.

  “Need another favor?” he asked.

  “Yes, actually. When’s your next sim?”

  Elle joined them. His body pivoted on instinct toward the first woman who had ever told him that she loved him. She’d even beat his mother to the privilege. She smiled at what he knew was radiating out of his face. Fuck, she was stunning. She glowed. He wanted to comb his fingers through her hair at an idle pace, explore her skin even more slowly, starting with the soft spot just below her ear.

  “Earth to Chen.”

  “Hmm?” He blinked at Quinn.

  She looked between the two of them. “I just need an answer and I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Out of your hair. What a strange expression. “Answer to what?”

  She snorted. “What did you to do him, Elle?”

  “Told him I loved him,” she replied with a shrug and a smirk.

  Quinn made a face. “I was asking when your next sim is. The local paper wants an exclusive.”

  “Yeah? Tuesday at ten.”

  Quinn stood, already tapping on her phone. “I’ll let them know.”

  She moved toward the door and Elle’s eyes followed her. Chen recognized the squinty look on her face. She saw a problem she wanted to make better.

  “Quinn? Want to hang out Saturday night? The nail salon in town is decent and the taco shop is divine. My treat.”

  Quinn’s eyes lifted from her phone, brows drawn. “Oh. Girl time. Um, sure?”

  Elle chuckled. “Love that excitement.”

  “Sorry. I haven’t had girl time in…honestly, I don’t remember.”

  “We’ll have fun,” Elle promised.

  “Oui. Thanks, Elle.” Quinn smiled and waggled her fingers as she left.

  When she’d gone, Chen leaned across the desk and brushed his lips lightly against hers. “That was sweet of you, but be honest: What are you most looking forward to? Girl time or not having to share your tacos with me?”

  “Quinn could use a break. She can’t hide those dark circles under her eyes and her nails are bitten to almost nothing. She’s tired and stressed. I want to help.”

  He cupped her soft cheek in his hand and rubbed his nose against hers. “I know you do. You’re the most compassionate woman I’ve ever known. You didn’t answer my question, though.”

  She dropped a light kiss on his lips. “Tacos, obviously. Speaking of, care to take your girlfriend to lunch?”

  “Always thinking about your next meal. How very Chinese of you,” he chuckled.

  His parents might actually admire her ravenous appetite. He moved around the desk and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get some tacos in you. My wallet needed a hit, anyway.”

  33

  Elle chose a violent crimson for her nails, partly because Chen loved red of any shade and partly because her brothers had a lacrosse tournament the following weekend in Vegas. Both she and Chen were going to support the Crimson Crushers.

  Elle handed the bottle of polish to the petite woman behind the counter and took a seat next to Quinn. She’d chosen charcoal gray for herself, a saturated color that popped against her alabaster skin. She adjusted her position in the chair repeatedly and from the number of times she looked longingly at her phone, which sat face-up next to her flat palms, Elle got the distinct feeling Quinn truly did not know how to relax.

  “I know how it looks.” Quinn glanced at Elle. “I get crap from Tate about how much time I spend on my phone. But I also get crap from the rest of the family for not catching crises before they hit the news. PR for a company as large as ours is not all feel-good photo ops and community events. We’ve got some habitual troublemakers in the family.”

  Elle didn’t know much about Quinn’s role in the Geier empire outside of what she did for OrbitAll, which seemed like a full-time job in itself.

  “What kind of troublemakers?”

  Quinn snorted. “The normal kind. My cousin, Hadrian, has an affinity for women who screw him, then screw him over by selling pictures to the tabloids. Maude, his sister, stole some French socialite’s dog recently. You know, typical rich family drama.”

  Elle huffed out a surprised laugh. “Wow. How come I haven’t heard of any of this?”

  “Because I’m really good at my job,” Quinn answered. “I run interference for our entire family. That’s six adults in our parents’ generation, thirteen in ours.”

  Elle’s heart squeezed in sympathy. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  Quinn studied her nails, currently in the process of being buffed, as if mesmerized. “How much do you know about me and Tate’s upbringing?”

  “Nothing,” Elle answered honestly. Her own manicurist poured cool liquid on her nails as Elle studied Quinn’s delicate features in profile. She was lovely, interesting looking, with an upturned nose, oodles of freckles, and lush lips.

  “We were raised in France, mostly by nannies and tutors. Our parents and their siblings worked for the company, running the different houses, so they were never around. The cousins all became really clos
e. Tate and Matt are like brothers to me.”

  Elle nodded. She’d picked up on that vibe. She also knew Quinn lived with Tate in the villa in the hills.

  “That’s why I’ve been hanging out at OrbitAll so much. Tate’s here, and it’s the easiest branch of the company to deal with.”

  Elle didn’t think it was quite fair that the behavior and reputation of twenty-some people, not to mention a massive, multibillion-dollar company, should land on the shoulders of one young woman.

  “That’s a lot of pressure, Quinn.”

  She smiled, a rueful look on her face. “Mostly, I’m happy to do it. Serving my family is my privilege.”

  “Do you ever get a break?”

  She shrugged, tossing her honey-colored hair over a shoulder. “Do we ever really get a break from family?” Without waiting for Elle to reply, she continued. “I just bought an apartment in Boston, but I’ve only stayed one night. My piano is there.”

  A happy sigh escape Elle. She’d always wished she were musical. “You play?”

  “I used to.”

  “I used to draw,” Elle offered. “But then I developed your same addiction to work. I’m getting better, though. Tate’s expectations allow for a real life. But I’m no expert on the work-life balance. You’ll get no judgement from me.”

  “Looks like Chen is helping.”

  Funny, at any other time in her career Elle would have viewed a boyfriend as a risk to her trajectory. And maybe he still was a risk. There was simply nothing she wanted to do more than spend time with him.

  “You’ve got the goofiest grin on your face.” Quinn snickered, not unkindly.

  “I can’t help it. I’ve never dated someone like Chen. I’ve never leaned in like this. Feels good.” Joy felt like it was spilling over. She would have squeezed Quinn’s hand if her own were free. “If a handsome, pushy stranger ever happens to drop into your life, I highly recommend giving in.”