Waiting For A Star To Fall (Autumn Brody Book 2) (5 page)

"My what? Oh, the TMZ shit show? Give me some credit. Zachary may have wet some pre-teen panties on that Disney show, but he's a total skeeze. He's boning the stage manager currently, although I suspect that's not exclusive on either end." Veronica paused, eyeing Andrew's guilty expression. "Feisty, Andrew. Well done."

"Well, I didn't want to believe it, but maybe you should tell Evan it's bullshit? He was a wreck yesterday when it came up in conversation," Andrew replied, settling onto the corner of the bed.

A switch flipped and the last thing Autumn expected happened: Veronica began to sob. Frustrated by the limitations of video chat. Autumn's arms alternately flailed and attempted to rub her on-screen shoulders.
Tomorrow. I can hug her tomorrow
. But it wasn't soon enough. In the two years she'd known Veronica, she had never once witnessed her full-on weep.

"Jesus V, what happened with you two? Do you want Andrew to leave?"

"No, no... One sec..." Veronica disappeared briefly as Andrew mouthed an apology at Autumn. Returning with a box of Kleenex, Veronica dabbed at her eyes. "Look, we can get into the details when you get here, but suffice it to say that Evan and I broke up two weeks ago."

"Keenan was right then? I don't understand. You guys are—were—so attached," Autumn mused aloud.

Veronica tugged viciously at her hair, twisting it into knots as she often did when upset. "It's not about a lack of love, Autumn. Quite the opposite, really. Can we do this tomorrow over dinner and a really, really stiff drink or five?"

"Okay sweetie, it's just... You could have told me sooner.”

Veronica shook her head. “Didn’t want to distract you two during finals. Evan and I agreed on that, at least…”

Her friend’s voice trailed off as she tore at a fresh tissue, scattering white bits across her lap. Suddenly, all of Veronica’s recent excuses for avoiding Skype made perfect sense. This was probably the first day she’d thought she could keep it together on camera.

“Well, I'm here for you,” Autumn assured her. “We both are."

"Absolutely," Andrew echoed. "I'll buy the first round tomorrow, alright?"

Veronica blew her nose, immediately muttering about how gross it was. "Okay, deal. You guys are still coming in at two?"

Andrew chimed in quickly. "Two on the dot, arriving at Newark."

"As much as I'd love to greet you right away, I've been told that we have a rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. Samuel's being a perfectionist and changing up a few scenes based on feedback from the preview run. Zero surprise."

Veronica's voice betrayed exhaustion, which concerned Autumn. While acting was incredibly demanding on a Broadway scale, she'd never known her friend to look so haggard. She suspected that her relationship imploding had something to do with it.
Maybe I should check in with Evan
, she mused.

"It's okay, V. We'll check into the hotel and meet up for dinner. Any suggestions?"

"Already booked us in at my fave Italian place. It's a must for anyone visiting the city, and I need comfort starches. Bonus points: no one ever checks ID. Caters to the not-quite-legal and semi-famous."

"Dress code?"

"Semi-formal, babe." A knock was heard from behind Veronica, who glanced off to the right and held up a single finger. "Gotta jet. Gabriel made me promise to go see this art show of his friend's. I suspect it’s more about distracting me from bad Lifetime movies and crying over gelato than the art. Tomorrow?"

"See you then. Love you, V."

Veronica blew a kiss at the screen, which Andrew mimed catching and pocketing it. It earned a half-hearted giggle from the normally cheery blonde. With a wistful look, it was Veronica who disconnected first.

"Shit!" Andrew exclaimed, shaking his head. “Keenan was right. I really didn’t want to believe it.”

Autumn couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt about her friend’s silence. "What the hell happened? And why wouldn’t she have said anything to me?"

"No clue. Evan hasn't said a word to me, either. Maybe I should have noticed his non-stop singing of Veronica's praises had gone mute."

"Finals make for a distracted Andrew. I could barely get a kiss out of you." Returning to her tangle of clothes upon the bed, she absently held up a black dress with an empire waist. "Should I call Evan? He's like my brother. A good sister would have noticed his pain."

“Not if he didn’t want you to notice, and it seems that was their goal.” Andrew's hands came to rest on her shoulders, massaging them gently. "I say you get Veronica's side first. Maybe see if you can find a light at the end of the tunnel. God knows he could use one, if his duck and run after the ceremony is any indication."

"Yeah, good call...” With a roll of her eyes, she tossed the dress roughly onto the bed. “Fuck this! I hate fashion. You pick four nice outfits. I'm going to pack my toiletries."

"Huh? Wait, Autumn...?"

With an exasperated look, Andrew watched her bolt from the bedroom, a tiny black cat in close pursuit. Unable to choose between what appeared to be twelve perfectly gorgeous outfits, he shrugged and headed downstairs to find her mother.

When in doubt, delegate
.

Had he looked back, he would have noticed Pandora pawing the mirrored door of the linen closet, stretching to touch the stranger reflected within.

Twenty-four hours later, they were standing in the lobby of the uncomfortably expensive hotel Andrew had insisted on booking for their two-week trip, waiting to check in. Leaning on a pillar, Autumn studied the bustle of guests coming and going as she admired her right ring finger, tilting her hand to better catch the light.

The square cut amethyst flanked by tiny diamonds in a band of gold was apparently older than her mother. A graduation gift, the ring was an heirloom, once worn by Autumn's maternal great-grandmother.
A little piece of home, no matter where you go
, her mother had told her, her eyes misty. It was perfect. Her thumb ran over the stone, marveling at its cool exterior despite the July heat wave.
Not too flashy. Just right
.

Her admiration of her new accessory was interrupted by an unwelcome, yet all-too-familiar feeling washing over her.
Someone's here.
It was impossible, irrational.
Crazy girl strikes again
, she chided herself. Glancing around casually to reassure herself, Autumn froze. A mirrored pillar about ten feet away reflected the image of a woman clad in lavender, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. On its own, it was benign; the fact that Autumn had seen the same woman on the beach near her home on three separate occasions made her heart begin to race.

"Impossible," she murmured.

The woman smiled. Autumn startled, taking two steps backwards and straining to find the living source of the reflection. The lobby was a lavender-free zone. No brunettes in gossamer dresses, staring through her. Pressing her eyes closed, she pleaded with her mind to cut the crap.
There’s no one there. There can’t be.

"Autumn?"

She spun around, nearly colliding with Andrew. "Hmm?"

"I have the key cards. Let's go." He gestured to the elevators and grabbed the larger suitcases.

Her gaze roamed the lobby anew, but mercifully, there was no one to be found. Relief. Chalking it up to lingering effects of her Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, she gathered the carry-ons and followed him.

Drawing a deep breath, Autumn directed her attention to the finer details of the hotel's décor to distract herself. It was a beautiful place, modern and classy—the same chain they'd stayed with in Montreal the previous summer—but beauty came with a very, very large price, particularly in the heart of Times Square. Her parents had gifted her with two thousand dollars as a graduation reward, but there was no way this was affordable on that budget. Not for two weeks.

And when Andrew swiped the key card and opened up a suite that was easily the size of a small apartment, Autumn felt dizzy. Gripping the door frame to steady herself, she let her carry-on bag slide off of her shoulder. It landed with a soft
thump
on the plush carpet.

"What on earth have you done?"

Setting the suitcases near the sofa (
They had a sofa!
), Andrew shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."

"Andrew, this room is twice as large as the one we had last year, and I know how expensive that trip was. This is too much..."

"Hey, stop that," he murmured, pulling her inside and shutting the door. "It's not that big of a deal. I got a great bargain through an online sale."

"We got a great rate last time. It was eight hundred for three nights," Autumn whimpered.

She closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow down. He, in turn, cupped her chin in his palm and urged her to look up at him.

"Trust me," he whispered.

She opened her eyes slowly, seeking comfort in his features.

"When the lawyer called me in March and explained that I had a trust fund my aunt never bothered to tell me about, I suspected it was decent. My parents were into law and real estate, so I assumed that if they had put money aside after all, they'd definitely tucked away enough for university. Last month, I got a call from the trustee handling my parents' estate. Even with the tuition for Casteel and my monthly spending allowance that I thought my aunt had been providing... It's still almost four hundred thousand dollars."

Autumn whistled low, rendered speechless.

"Yeah. My thoughts exactly. So while I don't intend to blow through it all in a year, I decided that after the shit we've both gone through, we deserved this. Please,
please
, just enjoy it with me?"

"I...It's so..."

"I need this too," he insisted, kissing her gently. “The last few years have been this rollercoaster of death and love and almost death again and… I really wanted to do this. I wanted something as amazing as what we have together. We’ll totally get a cheap apartment, work shitty jobs and eat too much Kraft Dinner like good little university students back home, but this is us celebrating our future. Just go with it. For me?”

Old insecurities stomped their way into her mind, insisting she wasn’t good enough, that she didn’t deserve such gestures.
Fight the fallacy
, she heard Emma coaching her.
Fact over fiction
. Andrew’s fingers toyed with her hair as he patiently awaited her reply.
He’s right
, she told herself.
I’m a good person. He’s a good person. It’s his money to spend and as long as he’s frugal, one big trip to celebrate isn’t the end of the world.
She managed a half-smile and Andrew beamed.
It means so much to him. Shut up and accept the gift!

"For you," she acquiesced at last. "But I'm buying all of our meals. I have my father’s pride, Daniels."

"I’ll agree to that demand—mainly because I saw it coming a mile away." Glancing down at his watch, Andrew smirked. "Huh. It's three-fifteen."

Autumn knew where this was going. "So it is."

"Dinner is at six," he continued, slowly unbuttoning her favourite cardigan.

"Hmm... Well, I do need to shower before then. I smell like a crowded jet." Her fingers slid into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him closer.

Her jeans were already unbuttoned now, eliciting a hiss from her lips. "How awful. You're going to have to remove your clothes."

"You kinda smell like a jet yourself," Autumn purred. "Perhaps you should also shower." She grinned as Andrew lifted his arms, allowing her to yank off his t-shirt.

"That's an awful lot of water in a time of environmental concerns. What should we do, Ms. Brody?"

Her jeans were shimmed down her legs, Andrew left kneeling before her with a primal stare. From the periphery, she spied a voyeur shower big enough for two to explore.

"I could be persuaded to share my shower. For the environment," she added seriously, struggling to contain a moan as he licked his way up her thigh.

"You know, I find Al Gore's truths
highly
convenient," Andrew quipped, his jeans discarded rapidly in pursuit of Autumn's teasing sashay towards the bathroom.

Tossing her bra at his head, Autumn grinned. "You know what? So do I..."

* * *

They were twenty minutes late for dinner. Only five of it was due to traffic.

Veronica, thankfully, was willing to believe otherwise. Clad in a modern take of Marilyn Monroe's infamous white dress (albeit in purple), she jumped to her feet when they arrived and pulled Autumn into a tight hug.

"It is
so good
to see you! God, let me check you out." Pulling back and studying her friend, she grinned. "Happiness suits you."

She understood the meaning behind Veronica's words. When they had met, a year of anxiety and depression had left Autumn's eyes ringed in deep purple. Fifteen pounds lighter, she'd looked gaunt and weak. While she had returned to her healthier weight over the last year or so, it was only with the end of Professor Kearney's trial that the nightmares had begun to subside. Opting for a knee-length, slinky green dress, Autumn was pulling attention to her rejuvenated eyes.
I'm happy, world,
she was subconsciously shouting.
Take notice!

"And New York suits you," Autumn told her. "Should I get you a subway grate?"

"Play your cards right, wifey. The night is young, after all. And Andrew Daniels! You clean up nicely." Veronica toyed with his blue silk tie, pouting. "
Happy birthday, Mister President
," she sang haughtily, throwing in a shimmy.

"Three months too late, Veronica," he mumbled, flushing crimson. "Should we sit?"

"Oh, hell yes! I took the liberty of ordering a few appetizers. The costume department's going to hate me when I burst a seam, but screw it." Slipping into her side of the booth, Veronica gestured to the open bottle of wine on the table. "Join me. Sobriety is not welcome at this celebration."

By the time their main courses had arrived (along with a third bottle of wine), Autumn was finally able to coax the Evan story out of her friend. It was, as Veronica had cryptically noted, not a case of falling out of love. Far from it.

"Evan got into University of Sheffield. Did he tell you guys?"

Autumn gasped. "No, he didn't say a word! That was the 'hopeless, long-shot dream school', right?"

Veronica nodded, sipping her Shiraz. "Yup. They were blown away by George's recommendation and the internship last summer with ESPN paid off as well. He called me about a month ago to tell me. He didn't sound nearly half as excited as I did. I was thrilled! We were both going to be living our dreams."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Oh, boy. I see where this is going..."

"So a week later, Evan calls back and tells me he's trying to defer the acceptance for a year. I'm like, 'Why on earth would you do that? Do you know how hard it was to get in as an international applicant? Don't be stupid.' He was pissed." Veronica slumped lower in her chair, shaking her head. "He thought I didn't want him around me here in New York. I told him I did, but not at the cost of his dreams."

Autumn reached over to squeeze her friend's hand. "Oh, V... He loves you."

"And I love him too much to let him risk a huge opportunity. He would have never let me pass this show up. Sheffield is his Broadway debut. I can do long distance. Well, for him, I can. But he was going to throw it all away to sit around and wait for my rare moments of free time for the next year. I broke it off, told him I was too busy for a relationship of any kind."

The gears immediately began to turn in Autumn's mind.
Evan needs to know. This isn't fair, to either of them. They're both miserable.

"Ugh, stupid hormones!" Veronica dabbed at her eye with a napkin. "I'm sorry, excuse me guys. Last thing I need is more paparazzi bullshit."

Watching her rush towards the restrooms, Andrew leaned across the table, beckoning Autumn closer. "You need a Girls' Night. She needs one."

"It's our first night in New York," she protested.

"So what? We have years ahead of us. Veronica and I are good buddies, but she's censoring herself. I'm a guy. A guy who's friends with her ex."

"I'm friends with Evan."

Andrew shook his head. "But you were Veronica's friend first. You have a bond built on a haunted dorm room and risking your lives solving murders. That tends to elevate teenage friendships, or so I gather. I'll claim exhaustion, blame it on travelling. You take her out, have a little fun, maybe head to her place for a few more drinks."

Spying Veronica returning from the back hallway, Autumn smiled. "You're a good man. Thank you."

"Who am I to come between my favourite person and her wifey?" he teased.

Veronica shifted gears when she returned, sharing gossip and stories from behind the red curtain over their entrees. Autumn let her friend dodge the real issues at hand, playing along as Andrew asked to skip dessert, yawning for full effect. Too concerned with faking a smile, Veronica bought his excuses readily.

Bidding him farewell outside of the restaurant twenty minutes later, Autumn had the sense of something—or someone—watching her. A hint of motion reflected in the taxi's rear window. Blinking hard, she assured herself that nothing was there.
A trick of light
.
You're prone to them from the PTSD. It's okay. It's nothing. Just one of the bad days, brought on by exhaustion
. With a kiss and a brave smile, she watched Andrew drive off into the night.

There was nothing to fear, aside from a rat scurrying through an alley or perhaps overpriced martinis gouging her Visa. Veronica needed the comfort of a good friend; Autumn was there for her. They would find somewhere with fattening desserts, head to V's place, get far too drunk, have a laugh and possibly a cry, then she'd stumble into a cab and face plant into the hotel bed. Veronica's problem was nothing more than miscommunication born of the best intentions.

How wrong she was. About everything.

* * *

Stage one of her plan was executed swiftly: dessert of the junk variety. Veronica had steered them to a well-known ice cream place, where they promptly obliterated its pittance of nutritional value with a variety of toppings made of sugar and artificial everything. The weather warm, Veronica had then suggested they walk and eat.