A Star is Born

Published by

Harmony Ink Press

5032 Capital Circle SW
Ste 2, PMB# 279
Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

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http://harmonyinkpress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Star is Born
Copyright © 2012 by Robbie Michaels

Cover Art by Anne Cain   
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Ste 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA.
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ISBN: 978-1-61372-730-0

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

September 2012

eBook edition available

eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-731-7

This book is dedicated to Elizabeth and Lynn, without whose help it would never have been possible. Thanks to Elizabeth for believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself, and thanks to Lynn for helping me to understand and be calm (okay, more calm) each step of the way through the long publication process. You are both stars to me.

A Day Off

I
T
WAS
Sunday morning, the second morning in a row that I had been able to sleep in rather than haul myself out of bed at zero-dark-thirty to get to either work or school. I could not remember the last time I’d had two days in a row such as this. I liked it! Given my choice, I would build more days like this into my schedule. And with any luck, I would be doing just that relatively soon.

I was able to afford this rare luxury of sleeping in, not just one day but two days in a row, because I had just finished final exams from my second quarter as an undergrad at UCLA. And now I had an entire week with no obligations. What a glorious feeling. I wasn’t going to answer the door, the telephone, or anything other than the call of a nap for the next week.

If only it was more than a week, I would have been so happy that I might have imploded. But, to get more than a week I had to get through one more quarter of school, and then we come to the all-hallowed summer vacation.

My boyfriend, Bill, and I had journeyed out to the great state of California the previous summer to get ourselves settled and find gainful employment before school started in September. All had gone great the first quarter. But then it all went to hell in a heartbeat, and it had taken months to begin to get back to a steady state where life might once again be a little more manageable.

Somehow, through all the turmoil and chaos of the last quarter, I had managed to work full-time and ace all my classes. When I finished my last final exam, three days earlier, I had done so with great confidence that I knew the stuff backward and forward and had done well.

And to celebrate—I had worked a double shift at Starbucks. I hadn’t planned it that way. I had planned to work my usual eight-hour shift and then come home. Unfortunately, though, a couple of people called in sick (yeah, right!), so my boss had practically begged me to stay on and help him through closing. Never one to refuse someone who was begging, I had agreed. Reluctantly, I called home and informed my boyfriend that I was going to be delayed. We were both disappointed, since we had been planning to veg out in front of the TV and do absolutely nothing, a very rare treat for both of us.

When I finally crawled home that night, I was absolutely wiped out. Totally. There wasn’t enough energy to do anything. In fact, I made it inside the door of our apartment, dropped onto the couch, and promptly fell asleep with my coat still on and my book bag still on my shoulder. My sweet boyfriend had kindly awakened me and taken my coat. In an effort to keep me awake for five minutes, he moved me to the table and placed some kind of food in front of me. Don’t ask me what it was—I couldn’t tell you.

Sometime after eating, I made it to bed—I’m sure with Bill’s help once again—and started my long-awaited and much needed rest. The last months had been tough. No, “tough” doesn’t begin to describe the experience. The last few months had been just plain hell. They had been draining. They had been torturous.

But that no longer mattered. Those days were over. Those days were but a memory now, albeit it a fairly fresh memory. It was time to move those bad memories even farther aside and replace them with something that was better, something fun, something relaxing. At least I hoped to, if I didn’t sleep away my entire week’s break.

Even if I did, I knew it would be because I’d been working like a big dog and had earned a break, even if it was only a break spent sleeping. At least, for the first time in weeks and weeks and weeks, I wouldn’t be working flat out at the equivalent of two full-time jobs.

But I’m getting off subject. Where was I? Oh, right, I was in bed, waking up at a civilized-person hour. And even better? I was in bed with my boyfriend. Now, if you’d seen the last few months of our lives, you would understand why this was noteworthy. It seemed that when I was up, he was down. And when he was up, I was down. When I was awake, he was asleep. You get the idea. We seemed to be cosmically out of sync, which sucked, big time.

With our inverse relationship over the last few months, we’d sort of not had time (or the inclination) to have sex until just recently. Of course, once we got back to it, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and we’d been going at it night and day since we’d rediscovered how nice it was to be together again. This probably also helped by taking a few quarts of testosterone out of each of us, which made us easier to live with than we had been for the last few weeks.

So that morning, when we finally crawled out of bed to shower and forage for food and try to rehydrate, we were faced with the big issue: what should we do with our day?

Since we both thought better while running, we decided to clear our heads and get a little exercise at the same time by going for a run. I had been running more recently than Bill, but, once I got him back on track, he was doing pretty well himself. We were both now running at pretty much the same pace and for the same duration. Finally, something about the two of us was once again in sync.

An Unexpected Trip

A
FTER
a wonderful run, we walked back down the driveway toward our apartment. Sitting outside our door was the unmistakable little sports car driven by our friend, one of Hollywood’s favorite bad boys, Mr. Derrick St. James.

We met Derrick shortly after we arrived in Los Angeles. Thinking back, it was probably our second or third day in town, so it was almost immediately after moving to town. I guess it would be fair to say that he was one of our longest-term friendships on the west coast.

While I’d had my ups and downs with the man, he was a good man and a good friend. When Bill had been so sick earlier in the year and almost died, it was Derrick who stayed with me at the hospital night after night. We kept a vigil in the ICU during the days when we weren’t sure if he was going to live or die.

We didn’t have plans with him today, so I wasn’t sure what he was doing at our place, nor how he had gotten inside, for that matter. But however he did it, he had done it, and was sitting inside on the sofa talking on the telephone when we walked in the front door.

“No, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him. Yes. I’ll be sure to give him the message, but I think he might be out of town. Yes, of course. Bye.” He looked at me, smiled, and said, “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you?” I said, not sure why I should be thanking him.

“I just saved you from being a responsible adult. Now, to make sure that you don’t prove me to be a liar, you two need to get out of town.”

“Why? What have you done now?”

“Saved you.”

“Thank you?”

“Go pack a bag, guys. You’re going to Hawaii for a couple of days. My house over there is sitting empty, and I’m afraid that if you stay here that eventually Mark will pick up one of those calls like the one I just took.”

“And who was that on the telephone?” I asked.

“You going out of town?”

“We really can’t afford to do anything so extravagant right now,” I tried to protest.

“Oh, hush,” he said, grabbing his cell phone. He looked through his contact list, pressed something, and a moment later was talking with someone he clearly knew well. “Keiki? This is Derrick. I need two tickets on the next flight from LA to Maui.” He held the phone to his ear, obviously listening to someone doing something. He muttered a couple of one-word answers at a couple of points before giving the person our names.

“Thanks, doll. You’re the best.”

He disconnected the call and turned back to us. “You packed yet? You better hurry. Your flight leaves LAX in a couple of hours. Oh, and Mark, the first call was your boss wanting you to come in and fill in for someone who is going to be out sick all week. And the last thing you need right now is something like work getting in the way of you two bonding and getting to know one another again. So you’re going to Hawaii. The tickets are purchased and paid for and waiting for you when you get to the airport. I’ll call the person I have caring for the house on Maui and have him get everything ready for your arrival. He’ll pick you up at the airport and get you back and forth when you’re ready to leave. You leave this afternoon, and you’ll come back in four days. Does that work?” He didn’t wait for us to disagree, but simply said, “Good. Now go pack!”