Waiting For A Star To Fall (Autumn Brody Book 2) (19 page)

Autumn winced. "She's worried?"

"Yup," Evan replied, popping the 'p'. "She said that there was this thing with a psychic and it freaked her out. That you were out of it, like back then."

"Crap."

They were a block from the hotel now. A block from potential confrontation. Or loneliness. Autumn felt herself shrink, willing her body to be less, be smaller.
Draw less attention, less concern
.

"You two will be fine," Evan reassured her. "Just talk it out."

No, talking is the last thing we need. Not about the truth.
She was hurting everyone around her without even realizing it.
I'm so selfish
.

"I will. Thank you, Evan." She embraced him, avoiding his prying gaze.

"Anytime. So, should we pick you up?"

"Sure. I'll be ready to go for ten. And Evan? You've gotta talk too."

With his trademark goofy grin, he nodded. "Done deal."

As Autumn watched him slip into a cab, she felt her heart sink. It took one to know one: they'd just lied to each other.
Two of a kind
, she lamented.

Finding the suite empty only worsened her mood. Throwing her purse to the floor, she peeled off her tank top and shorts, allowing them to clutter the plush carpet beneath her bare feet. Blasting a well-worn playlist on iTunes, she turned on the shower and sang her hurt out with the help of a few depressing favourites. She was mid-rinse on the conditioner—and belting the chorus to Noel Johnson's "Calculated Love"—when a glimmer of light reflected off the mirrored doors.

"Andrew?" she called out. "Hey, can you order in dinner?"

No response. Perplexed, she sluiced the water from her hair and shut off the tap. She noticed the angle of the sun as she glanced at the nearby window and chided herself.
Idiot. It was just the light catching the sliding door. You're still alone
.

A sudden scraping against the suite door begged to differ.

Nearly falling to the shower floor, Autumn stumbled out into the bathroom, hurriedly grabbing at a towel. Tucking it around her body, she pressed herself against the sink, searching the area for a weapon. Another scrape against the door reverberated in her skull, punctuated by the thumping of her heart.

A toothbrush. It could be jammed into a throat. It would have to do for the moment.

Tiptoeing around the corner into the lounge area, Autumn saw no one. She did, however, spy a corkscrew and immediately traded up her weapon. Holding the silver coil between her index and middle finger, she stalked through the suite, seeking the cause of the noise.

From the periphery, a shimmer of light.

She stumbled, spinning towards it, only to find a flicker of purple dancing along the looming floor lamp. She knew what it was—
who
it was.

"This isn't funny, Louise!" she shouted angrily.

Behind her, something slid across the floor, brushing against the carpet. Whirling around, she stared in horror at the large brown envelope beside her cast-off sneakers. Did she dare approach it? What if the bearer of the envelope was waiting outside the door, counting on her to be curious, to come closer?

She was exposed and also clad in only a towel.

I have to look through the peep hole. If he's here... If I can catch a glimpse...

Rushing forward, she stepped over the unwanted parcel and peered through the tiny opening. Retreating down the hall was a young man, perhaps five-ten, slender in build. In his hand, a clipboard.
Masquerading as a courier. Of course. It's how he got the shoes into Veronica's room!

Half of her wanted to rush out into the hall, semi-nudity be damned, and confront him. The smarter half of her won. Rushing for the phone, she dialed the concierge.

"Hello? A man dressed in beige shorts and a black t-shirt with a clipboard just delivered a package to my room. Can security detain him? I believe he might be stalking me..."

She waited on the line, tapping the corkscrew against her thigh as she sat on hold. In the background, she heard a page, then a shuffling of items on a desk. On the floor, the envelope remained, taunting her. She closed her eyes, begging for resolve, begging for something to go their way.

After what felt like forever, a male voice returned to the line.

"We have him, Ms. Brody."

Satisfied, she dropped the corkscrew on the ground. "I'll be right down."

As it turned out, sometimes a courier was precisely that: a courier.

Having grilled the poor college student for twenty minutes and ultimately confirming his delivery details and route with dispatch, he was sent on his way with an apologetic smile from Autumn. Her hair hung limp and damp, her hastily thrown on shorts and t-shirt clinging to her skin. She felt foolish, despite the reassurances of the responding officer and the hotel that given the circumstances, she had every reason to question the presence of the man.

At least she hadn't been entirely wrong.

Inside the envelope, handled by the officer, was a single typewritten page addressed to Autumn, accompanied by a sealed white envelope of distinct familiarity.

To Ms. Brody,

I trust, as an inquisitive woman with an understanding of the lengths that people will go for love, that you will understand why I am approaching you now. It would seem that people have gone to great lengths to keep me from corresponding with my Veronica.

I know it is hard for others to fathom a love like ours, but please believe that all I want for her is happiness and success. I believe you want the same.

Please ensure my enclosed letter reaches my star.

Her stomach turned at the stalker's delusional belief that Autumn would somehow
understand
and even
support
his misguided affections. Had he no understanding of right and wrong? Did he not get that women didn't respond to being harassed and hurt in the name of so-called love?

No, of course not
. Because society made it clear that women were a prize to pursue, to win. That being a
nice guy
meant that you were entitled to the affection of any woman you desired. That rape was merely sex as persuasion, or payment. There was a reason people passed celebrity nudes around with glee, implying that their right to privacy was null and void.

The letter to Veronica, however, was what truly disturbed her. Almost babbling, bordering on incoherent, he fixated on Veronica as his beacon of hope, his starlight. He'd even praised her performance in his
movie
. Shuddering, Autumn remembered the final lines; they would be forever branded in her memory.

You may be a star, Veronica, but eventually all stars must fall from the sky. And when you do, you will be right where you belong: with me.

Her one consolation: Veronica would not be told of the letter, nor would Evan. She'd called Kevin, of course, believing her security detail needed to be aware of this latest incident. Kevin had immediately insisted she consider a protective detail of her own, but she'd dismissed it.

"He only delivered the letter to me because Veronica's too secure. Now that the security at my hotel is on alert, he won't risk this method again."

All the same, she had a feeling that either Andrew or her father would be hearing from Kevin soon.

Dashing on lip gloss, Autumn studied her reflection carefully. Her deep blue tea dress gathered beneath her bust, with a lace outer layer to its flared skirt. With her hair in a messy bun and her face framed in loose tendrils, she hoped she was presentable enough. Wincing, she took a quick run at concealing the hints of dark circles beneath her eyes.

I can't worry them anymore. I won't.
The police would handle the letter. Security would monitor her floor. Problem solved.

Andrew hadn't called. A part of her wanted to tell him of the afternoon's events, beg him to be at her side. A part of her worried that perhaps she wasn't the only one visited today by the unknown predator. The stubborn woman within won, and she refused to reach out. He'd flat out said he could miss the fundraiser, which meant his still being gone was reasonable.

Eleven. If he hasn't even texted by eleven, I'll text him
.

Grabbing her purse and slipping into her low-slung heels, she headed downstairs to meet Evan and Veronica. She wore the smile she'd trotted out for her parents many times during her ordeal with Chris. If her investigator father hadn't called her out for it, it had to be somewhat convincing.

Mirza nodded to her as she approached the car, gesturing to the backseat. Opening the door, she found a beaming Veronica, clad in the slinkiest red dress she'd ever seen. Her already ample cleavage seemed larger in the strapless number, the slit running from mid-calf to high upon her thigh.

"Damn, Veronica!"

"I know, right?" Veronica laughed, gesturing to Evan in the front passenger seat. "He's speechless."

"I am not speechless," he protested. "I simply have no words that are adequate enough to capture your beauty."

"Spoken like a true graduate of the Creative Writing program," Autumn teased. "So... what are you performing tonight?"

"You'll find out when I sing it!"

"Oh come on! I'm your wifey! How am I stuck finding out when the rest of the world does?"

It took several minutes of pleading and playful begging, but Veronica relented at last. "I get two numbers, so I figured I'd do one from a show and one I just enjoy singing."

"And you're not doing anything from
In the Garden
?"

"Hell no! They can come pay to see me perform
those
songs." Veronica winked, tousling her hair gently. "I decided against anything from
bare
and
Spring Awakening
as well, since I've done those shows and felt like this was a shot to do something I might never get to portray. It was so bloody tempting—pun intended—to do 'All The Men In My Life Keep Getting Killed By Candarian Demons' from
Evil Dead
. I figured the purists would shit themselves."

"On the other hand, I would have died laughing!" Autumn enthused. "So what did you pick?"

"I kept it in the
Spring
family and opted for 'Superboy and The Invisible Girl' from
next to normal
. I love that show and I didn't have to fight over the song, surprisingly. I question the taste of some people."

"I'm guessing people are going for the mega-hit crowd pleasers."

Veronica shrugged. "To each their own. At least I'm not doing anything from
Rent
. I love that show but I
knew
it would be a popular choice for an AIDS benefit. Everyone on the bill was fighting over
Rent,
or so it seems. I got five calls asking me to confirm I didn't want any of the songs from the show."

"Well, to be fair, you did play Maureen before. What's your second choice?"

As they pulled up in front of Joe's, Veronica smiled. "Funny you mention Idina, since I'm doing one of her songs. I got my
Rent
nod in."

"We're here," Mirza announced. "Ray's just going inside to take a look before we enter."

"You ready to blow them away?" Evan asked.

"But of course. I still feel like I should have switched to a number from my favourite film of the week. Don't you think so,
Kevin
?"

Mirza grinned, shaking his head. "Never let them be able to anticipate you,
Whitney
."

"See? He knows how to have fun. Oh look! There's Ray, with
Gabriel
." Veronica clapped excitedly. "I absolutely hate Gabriel's boyfriend of the month. Ray better put the moves on him pronto."

Stepping out of the car. Veronica rushed to greet her roommate. An exchange of kisses on the cheek followed. Evan and Autumn brought up the rear, each mindful of the cues of the security personnel.

"Gabriel! This is Autumn, my bestest friend in the planet who is not
fabulous
."

"It is so good to finally meet you!"

It was a good thing Autumn was more relaxed about physical contact these days: Gabriel immediately pulled her into a bear hug, nearly squeezing the air out of her. With a squeak, she pulled back and let out a low whistle in spite of herself.

"You know, Veronica told me she had a hottie for a housemate, but goddamn!" Her cheeks flushed, she wagged a finger at each of her friends in turn. "Do
not
tell Andrew I said that!"

Standing six feet tall and brandishing a six pack beneath his Armani shirt, Gabriel was the stereotype of every Latino man who'd swept an American girl off her feet with a Spanish sweet nothing.
Romance language, romance everything!

"Why, thank you! To think, I was a chubby kid with a face full of zits just a decade ago!" Gabriel grinned, flexing his bicep. "God bless the bullies who motivated me to build these guns."

"Can we move this inside?" Ray urged, holding the door open. "I'd hate for Ms. St. Clair to miss her performance."

Translation: you're sitting ducks. Move your asses.

The group obliged, Autumn and Gabriel chatting about music and books as Veronica was escorted backstage to prepare. They'd timed their arrival perfectly: the previous performer had only just finished his set. While Ray stayed with Veronica, Mirza hung out with their group, studying those in attendance.

"So, where's your fiancé?" Gabriel asked.

"Working on a documentary," Autumn replied. "He said he'd try to get here, but when he's working on a film, he's kind of lost in it."

"I understand completely." Gabriel signaled for a bartender, ordering a Tom Collins. "When I'm working on a new part, I'm oblivious to the world around me. I tend to lose a lot of non-theatre boyfriends that way."

"They don't understand the level of commitment it takes, I guess."

"They don't. I have a lot going on, and I know it makes for scarce time. But the time I do have? I am devoted to my man. I will cook you dinner, take you out, or just
take you
, if you follow me."

Autumn giggled. "I may have some idea."

"What about Ray?" Evan asked. "Doesn't he play for your team?"

"Switch hitter," Gabriel replied. "And currently single, from what Veronica tells me every ten minutes."

"You know, I'm certain the life of a security professional of his rank comes with long hours and extended assignments," Autumn mused aloud. "Would you agree, Mirza?"

"That's a fair assessment," the guard concurred, casually scanning the crowd.

"Maybe he'd understand the hours of a working actor..."

Gabriel paid for his drink, knocking back half of it in a go. "Veronica put you two up to this?"

Evan and Autumn shook their heads in unison, laughing at themselves.

"I'm thinking about it, alright? But you know, just because we both enjoy the company of men, it doesn’t mean we’re soulmates." Gabriel pointed to the stage. "Enough about my floundering love life: our girl's about to blow the roof off this joint."

With a sultry swagger, Veronica took the stage, setting a bottle of water down nearby. Ray assumed a position beside the stage, blocking access to the rear. He was on high alert, mindful of every movement in the front of the audience. The emcee came out with a mic in hand, introducing Veronica and promising "a powerful combination of songs".

Taking over, Veronica greeted the audience, inviting them to join in if they knew her first song. "It's a bicycle built for three, as it were, but I think we can make something extraordinary happen together."

Sure enough, the moment the audience recognized the song, the enthusiasts in the crowd were more than happy to add harmonies to Veronica's performance. Camilla Kinsey, her co-star from
In the Garden
, slipped on stage with Ray’s blessing and took Alice Ripley's lines from the original, earning a rousing cheer.

Inside her purse, Autumn's phone buzzed. Pulling it out, she was relieved to see a text from Andrew.

Just getting back to the hotel. Give Veronica my regards.

A little cooler than she would have cared for, but at least he'd contacted her.
He's okay. That's all that matters.

Bowing politely, Veronica thanked Camilla and adjusted her mic. "And for my second song, something technically mainstream, but definitely Broadway. I love this song and my shower can vouch for the fact I sing it pretty regularly to start my day. This one's an original by Idina Menzel."

A huge round of applause erupted at the name of a Broadway icon and Veronica settled into "I Stand", a rousing piano-pop ballad about faith in hard times. Autumn loved this song as much as Veronica and her mind drifted to last summer, and a sleepover weekend filled with song and laughter. While Autumn could hold her own and do a passable job with a song, Veronica put her to shame.

Bowing to loud applause, Veronica headed off stage to join their table near the emergency exit (Mirza's choice). On the way, she was drawn into several conversations with fans and fellow performers alike, including a former cast member from
American Idiot
that Autumn knew her friend adored. One interaction caught her eye, however: a young woman approached, her date more of an accessory than a partner. Veronica's catty face emerged in response and Gabriel immediately finished his drink.