Written in the Stars

by Rachael Eliker

  I moaned, “I’ve screwed everything up so badly.”

  I felt Stella’s hand on my back, patting me softly. “Yeah, you have.”

  Turning my head, I gave her a sour look. “Thanks for that affirmation.”

  “What are sisters for?” she teased. “But seriously, nobody’s perfect. If Warren’s willing to give it a shot, and you sincerely apologize, I don’t see why things couldn’t mend between you two. Someday, you’ll laugh about all this when you’re co-writing your memoir about being famous and in love. Then you’ll have me to thank for it. I expect a full-page dedication to me.”

  Tears pricked in my eyes, and I laughed quietly, hoping her vision for Warren and me could possibly be true, especially after I’d left him last night.

  “What about you? Could Robby ever keep you happy? Or are you in the infatuation stage?”

  “I was infatuated with Robby way back when you two were dating. Of course, I never entertained the thought of getting in between you two. Then, I lost contact with him after he’d gone to college, but when I saw him at work the first day, I knew I’d been blessed with a second chance. We were always friendly, but I don’t think he knew I was trying to flirt with him. Warren agreed to help me win him over, and if I must say, your allergic reaction last night couldn’t have been timed more perfectly.”

  Tilting my head toward her, I asked, “You didn’t sabotage me, did you?”

  A peal of laughter burst out of my sister, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Me? Sabotage you? I think you’ve been in the cutthroat world of entertainment too long already. No, I honestly had no idea. I’m really sorry your evening was cut short by it.”

  “It’s alright. Mom might have thought I was drunk when she called, but I think Warren improved his standing in her book when he took the phone and promised he’d get me home safely.”

  “Good,” Stella said. “After you left, Robby and I danced until they had to kick us out, then ended up walking back to the hotel and talking until after one in the morning. When I finally worked up the nerve to tell him how I felt, he was so relieved. He’d been feeling the same way too but couldn’t believe I’d be interested in him.”

  Leaning over, I pulled my sister into a hug. “I’m really happy for you.”

  “Me, too. Now, you need to go find Warren and talk with him, so you can have your own happily ever after.”

  Stella stood up and pulled me to my feet. With the air cleared and my own stupidity recognized, I was prepared to crawl back to Warren until my hands and knees were bleeding if it meant a second chance at us.

  “Ready or not, I’m coming for you Warren Jackson.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I couldn’t find Warren anywhere.

  Mandy was still sitting at her corner booth in the hotel lounge, but when I asked her, she’d said Warren had already come and gone. He didn’t answer his cell or his room phone, he wasn’t soaking in the hot tub on the roof of the hotel, and he wasn’t benching weights in the gym. I certainly wouldn’t have been disappointed if that’s where I’d caught him.

  “Have you seen Warren?” I asked Vanessa and Harrison when I caught them going to the elevator after a late lunch.

  “No,” Vanessa said. “We’ve been at the pool all morning, and he wasn’t there. Why?”

  “I need to talk to him. Like right now.”

  “Oh?” Vanessa said coyly. “Whatever for?”

  “He needs to know how I’ve royally screwed up. If I don’t get it off my chest soon, I might explode. Kaboom! There’ll be intestines and kidney bits all over your Prada shoes.”

  Vanessa looked like she might be sick at my descriptive and admittedly dramatic enactment of my distress.

  Harrison offered, “He might be over at the concert venue practicing. Mr. Drake liked his acoustic version of Written in the Stars but wanted to kick it up a notch for the final performance.”

  “We were going to ride over now. You want to join us?” Vanessa asked.

  Clenching my fingers around Vanessa’s arm, I started dragging her to the front door. “Where’s the car?”

  Digging in her heels, she protested, “Hang on! I haven’t even showered yet. Your confession will have to wait an hour while I freshen up.”

  “An hour? You have twenty minutes before I come and kick down your door.”

  Vanessa nudged her wild black hair off her shoulder and laughed deviously. Taking the elevator back up to her room, I turned to Harrison. “She’s joking, isn’t she?”

  He shrugged and sat down in an armchair, getting comfortable and sorting through the magazine selection fanned out on the end table. “You know Vanessa.”

  I growled and threw my hands in the air. “That’s the problem. Of course I do.”

  While Harrison quietly flipped through a Vogue magazine, no doubt critiquing the clothing featured within, I paced the floor, gnawing on my nails. It felt like hours had passed since Vanessa left, and I was about to tell Harrison I was giving up and would grab a taxi myself when Vanessa breezed off the elevator.

  “Finally,” I said, exasperated. Taking her arm again, I was thankful she didn’t resist.

  “Can’t rush perfection. You should know that,” Vanessa said.

  “You were sitting in a pool all morning. How dirty could you have been?”

  “I don’t want to smell like chlorine the rest of the day.”

  “Vanessa! You’re impossible,” I said. “You know nobody at the concert will give one lick what you smell like because I guarantee that none of your fans will get close to even sniff at you.”

  “Can’t ever be too careful. Besides, chlorine is bad for the skin.”

  My eyelids fluttered as I closed my eyes, annoyed with her vanity but relieved her showing up meant we could go. Out in front of the hotel, a gleaming black limousine sat waiting in the drop off area. The chauffeur opened the door, and I resisted shoving Harrison and Vanessa in so we could hurry up and get on the road.

  “Do you know of any secret routes to the venue?” I begged the chauffeur. “I really, really need to get to there as soon as possible.”

  “Eloise, get in,” Vanessa said, wrapping her hand around my wrist and yanking me into the limo. “He can’t exactly drive us there if you’re outside pleading with him to go fast.”

  As we pulled out from the hotel, my heart started hammering behind my ribcage. Even if the driver wanted to honor my frantic request, we made it about two blocks before congested L.A. traffic kept us from going any faster than a crawl.

  “I could speed walk faster than this,” I complained while my knee jiggled uncontrollably.

  “It sounds like you really need to speak with Warren,” Vanessa pointed out.

  “You think?” I covered my eyes with my hands and resisted digging in my palms, trying to steady myself. “I’m sorry. That was rude. But yes, I’m desperate to talk to him. The sooner I can fix all the damage I’ve done, the better.”

  “Are you and Warren getting back together?” Vanessa asked, watching me from the opposite side of the limo where she was snuggled up against Harrison.

  “I don’t know. I hope so, but I’m trying not to be too optimistic.”

  Vanessa grabbed a fistful of Harrison’s shirt. “You hear that? It worked! I can’t believe it.”

  “What worked?” I asked, wondering what exactly she was talking about. “Wait a minute. Were you meddling? Because I specifically told you not to meddle.”

  “Oh, psh. It wasn’t much, and if it helps you two get back together, my conscience will be clear.”

  “And if we don’t, I’ll never let you live it down.”

  Vanessa pinched her lips together. “You’d blame me for trying to help?”

  “I’d blame you for not meddling enough,” I said, cracking a grin.

  When the limo finally veered off the interstate, we’d been driving for over an hour. The sun, up in the clear blue, cloudless sky, was already dipping down toward the ocean. The concert started in only a f
ew hours, and most of that time would be devoted to getting ready. Still, I was determined to catch Warren, even if it meant I went out on stage makeup-less and with my hair in a simple ponytail.

  My whole body was shaking with nervous energy as anxiety coiled in my stomach, and I chanted under my breath, “Come on, come on, come on.”

  “He’s not going anywhere, you know,” Vanessa said, entertained by my frantic nature.

  “It’s not that. I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve. Things need to be said, and I want to have the courage to say them. What I want to say has been echoing in my head since I spoke with Stella, and if I don’t do it soon, I’ll talk myself out of it. Then, I’ll be right back at square one.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen. Even if I have to tie you to a chair and force a filmed confession out of you, I’ll make sure Warren hears how much you love him,” Vanessa said.

  “Again, I’m amazed my parents think you’re the kind of friend that’s good for me. If they only knew.”

  As the limo was rolling to a stop, I jumped out and sprinted to the back entrance, flashing my badge at security and turning down a hallway that led to where the underbelly of the show had been set up. I pounded on Warren’s dressing room and jiggled the handle, but it was locked. Running past a group of backup dancers, all stretching in preparation for the show, I begged for any information about Warren’s whereabouts. When one of the blond girls with a narrow face and pretty blue eyes pointed me toward the stage, I thanked her over my shoulder and dashed away.

  I heard Warren’s smooth voice before I could see him.

  Stopping myself at the edge of the stage, I saw Warren was front and center, actively strumming his guitar while he closed his eyes and sang his heart out. I swooned a little, hearing him perform Written in the Stars, pretending it was just him and me, sharing pieces of our soul through music.

  Warren finished, and I wanted to run out and grab his ankles, supplicate him for forgiveness, then stand up and press my lips to his. I stayed in my place, hiding among the shadows.

  “Eloise?” Mandy caught me from behind. “They’re looking for you over in hair and makeup.”

  “Could it wait five minutes? I need to talk to Warren.”

  “No,” Mandy said curtly. “I’ve managed to keep this whole tour running like clockwork the entire tour, and I’m not getting us off schedule before we’ve even begun the final concert. This show needs to go off without a hitch so I can have a vacation, and if you try to stall, I swear I’ll make Casey shave your head so we can catch up.”

  Pinching my lips into a tight line, I asked, “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got terrible timing?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “So, you’ll give me five minutes?”

  “No. Let’s go.”

  I would’ve tried to fight more if I didn’t suppose Mandy could easily wrestle me into Wanda’s makeup chair. Huffing, I stormed off and plopped into Wanda’s open seat.

  Looking at Mandy over her half-moon glasses, Wanda asked, “What’s wrong with our sweet Eloise? I’m not used to seeing a scowl.”

  “She needs to talk to Warren,” Mandy said flippantly.

  “Are they finally working things out and getting back together?” Wanda asked as she wiped my face clean so she could start with a clean slate.

  “Does everyone here know?” I asked, my face heating with humiliation.

  “Honey,” Wanda said as she dried my skin. “You and Warren are as obvious as the sun coming out of the east every morning. It’s not even gossiping when it’s so apparent.” Glancing over me, Wanda said, “Speaking of…”

  My head snapped over, and I saw Warren strolling into the area. My voice failed me, and I barely breathed out, “Warren!”

  “Oh, no,” Wanda said, firmly grabbing my chin and turning back to her. “Any talking you want to do is going to have to be while I do my work. I can’t be held responsible for tweezing off half an eyebrow if you don’t hold still.”

  “Fine,” I conceded, sitting back in my chair, closing my eyes while Wanda blended in a thick coat of foundation. Raising my voice, I said, “Warren? I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry. I didn’t give you a chance…didn’t give us a chance. I’m ready to try now.”

  My confession was met with a strangling silence. With each passing second, my heartbeat became louder.

  “Warren?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “That was really sweet,” Wanda said as she painted a deep shade of pink on my lips.

  The uncertainty was killing me. Sitting up, I turned both directions. “Where is he?”

  “He left with Harrison to go get changed,” Wanda said.

  “And you couldn’t have told me that before I bore my soul for everyone to hear?”

  “Think of it as good practice for what you’re going to say to him when you do get a chance to talk.”

  “I’m starting to think that’ll be never,” I said, feeling myself get whiny.

  “You’ll find the right time,” Wanda said.

  I did my best to sit immobile, but my body kept twitching impatiently, making it take longer than normal for Wanda to get me ready. More than once, she had to wipe off the smudges I’d inadvertently caused. When she finally excused me, I was promptly snagged by Casey right as Anora stepped out of his chair, looking fantastic with every inch of her scalp intricately braided.

  “It’s nice to finally work in air conditioning,” Casey grumbled under his breath as he brushed out my hair, then ran a leave-in conditioner all the way to the tips.

  “It’ll be nice not to lose half my weight in sweat when performing,” I agreed distractedly. I still hadn’t seen Warren since he’d strolled past me in the makeup chair.

  “I guess. I mean for me, it’s a lot easier to work with all this hair when it isn’t sticky from your perspiration,” Casey said. “I had to keep your hairstyles relatively simple before but I’m going to try something a little more complex for tonight. Give you something extra for your final performance.”

  I died a little inside. I only managed to keep my complaints to myself for about five minutes before I blurted, “Do you think we could hurry this up? I really need to talk to Warren.”

  I saw the magnitude of Casey’s scowl in the mirror, and it made me bite my tongue.

  “I don’t rush things unless it’s absolutely necessary,” he pointed out. “Besides, Warren’s been sitting over there for a while, messing up his hair with that cowboy hat of his.”

  My head snapped over to where Casey had gestured, and sure enough, Warren was lounging in a chair, his feet kicked up on a spare cart loaded with extra microphones, cords, and batteries. I couldn’t see anything except his back, but it certainly was Warren. He was wearing his favorite cowboy hat and had his guitar in his lap, bobbing his head as he played a few upbeat chords.

  I drifted further and further out of the chair, trying to escape Casey so I could get talking with Warren to over with. I had to know what he thought of me and if he could ever forgive me for how stupid I’d been.

  After Casey produced a cloud of stiff-hold hairspray over my head, I skipped a few steps toward Warren, then slowed to a penitent, careful walk. I didn’t want to startle him.

  Stopping a few feet behind him, I spoke softly. “Warren? Can we talk? I have a few things I’d like to get off my chest.”

  It took a moment, but he nodded.

  The fact that he was willing to listen to what I had to say gave me courage.

  “First off, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. There isn’t much I can do to make all the ridiculous stuff I’ve said and done since this tour started go away, but I’m hoping eventually, I’ll be able to make it up to you.”

  Turning in his chair, Warren bobbed his head again.

  “No. Don’t turn around. This is easier to do if you’re not looking at me.”

  Warren didn’t move, so I inhaled and continued my monologue.

  “What I want to say is I�
��m sorry for all the grief I’ve caused you. Well, the both of us, really. You’ve been so patient and sweet with me, while I’ve done nothing but be an absolutely crazy, suspicious pain in the rear end that’s held back my trust. I fully admit to being unbelievably horrible. If you want, I’m willing to give us a second chance because I think…” I had to drum up the courage to say what I’d hidden deep in my heart not long after meeting Warren. “I think I love you.”

  Warren didn’t say a word, and from the back, I couldn’t see any of his expression beneath his wide brimmed cowboy hat, whether he was anxiously chewing his lip or staring steely-eyed at nothing particular in the distance. Maybe he was on the verge of happy tears that I’d finally come around. As the seconds ticked by, I was sure I was going to pass out from the anticipation. It didn’t bode well that he had to think so hard about whether or not he’d accept my apology.

  “Say something, Warren. Even if it’s that you hate me and never want to see me again. At least then, I’d know.” Still, he remained silent. Tentatively, I reached out and touched his shoulder.

  Warren hurtled out of his chair and spun around, wide-eyed and heaving like he was staring at a ghost. Pulling a pair of earbuds out, I could hear an upbeat country song blaring from them. He hadn’t heard a single word I’d said.

  “Eloise,” he said feebly, clutching his hand across his chest. “You about gave me a heart attack. I was clearing my head while waiting for the concert to start, and I think I kind of drifted off to sleep.”

  My heart fell like an elevator with a cut cable, taking all my other organs with it as it tumbled downward. I’d born my whole soul—twice—and it had fallen on deaf ears. All my strength seemed to disintegrate. I didn’t know how many more times I could repeat myself, having thought the stress of confession was already done with.

  “Were you talking to me? I didn’t hear a word if you were,” Warren said, dangling he earphones in front of me.

  He wasn’t being rude, but I could sense a distance between us. His usual smile was absent, and the sparkle in his eyes was replaced by something else completely. A pain that I wasn’t used to seeing in his usually lively countenance. It hit me that all the pushing away I’d been doing had finally done exactly what I’d wanted it to do—there was a rift between us, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to repair it.