Star Bright (Bright Young Things Book 1)

by Staci Hart

My heart twisted in my chest. “It’s no wonder your job means so much to you. Why war is a place you’d feel called to be.”

  “It is. And it’s a way for me to help Billy out. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to live alone, and he won’t let me move in with him. I’ve been saving my pennies for a long time in anticipation of that—what he earns from his pension and Social Security won’t put a dent in home care or a decent nursing home. He doesn’t have anybody else to look after him. So every little bit secures his future, and this gig is going to set us up nicely.”

  “It’s a win for everybody. I just wish you didn’t have to go halfway around the world for it.” I was thankful that he chuckled rather than it getting weird, and kept talking so it wouldn’t start a conversation about him leaving that I didn’t want to have. “What are you doing today?”

  “I need to swing by work, finish my Tiffany’s piece, and send it to you for the first round of slashing. But first, I need to stop by Billy’s. Gotta pick up his meds, get him some groceries, that sort of thing. Mostly though, I’ve got to make sure he hasn’t busted a hip or starved to death.”

  “Want company?”

  His brow rose with his smile. “You want to meet my dad?”

  I shrugged like it was no big deal. “If it wouldn’t be weird, why not? I’m curious where you came from. Who made you such an honest liar.”

  “Billy would appreciate you saying so.” He watched me for a moment. “All right. I’d love your company.”

  “I only have one request.”

  “Which is …”

  “We go on your bike. I haven’t had a ride in days.”

  He grabbed me, pressed his hips to mine, and twisted to put me on top of him. My hair was a curtain, separating us from the rest of the world. “I can fix that right now.”

  And with a laugh that he swallowed with a kiss, he fixed that with great skill.

  A few hours later, we pulled to a stop in front of what I figured must be Billy’s building, a bag of groceries and such on my arm and my shoulders warm from the sun. Fresh air kissed my cheeks when I took off my helmet—Levi had made a habit of bringing a spare for me like a goddamn gentleman—but before I could get off the bike, he took the bag and the helmet, leaving me with nothing but the task of putting my feet on the ground.

  I smoothed a hand over my sundress—a gauzy, bohemian affair I’d paired with a bodysuit so all of Manhattan wouldn’t see my bare ass—and looked up. It was a beautiful building, if not a little run-down, the front a zigzag of the fire escape over red brick. Levi told me he’d grown up here, that Billy had lived here since the ’70s with his wife before she died. This neighborhood had been a lot different then, and I imagined Levi as a little boy, running around these streets causing trouble.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked, stuffing his keys in his pocket before grabbing the grocery bag.

  “Oh, just wondering what kind of trouble you got into as a kid.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t, not really. I’d seen enough to last me by the time I made it to Billy.”

  “Like what?”

  Levi took my hand, glancing both ways before starting across the street. “Well, my parents were junkies, so I bet you could guess.”

  He said it so casually, his lips in an easy smile and his face untroubled. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so blasé—the deep ache in my chest was proof.

  “I always assumed growing up hard would … I don’t know. Breed resentment against the world. Spark retaliation.”

  “Probably does. But I was just so thankful to have a safe place to live and with someone who cared, and I didn’t want to screw that up. All I ever wanted was stability. Risking that never seemed worth it.” He pulled open the door to the building and held it so I could pass.

  “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “Actually, I do,” he answered with a smirk.

  “And modest too.”

  “One of my better traits.”

  I chuckled as we began our climb. “Got an invitation today. A pub crawl. Well, sort of,” I amended. “We only know the starting point and time. The bartenders will have clues for us. We have to order a special drink at the bar to get it.”

  “What’s the theme?”

  “Disco Chickens.”

  A laugh shot out of him. “Where the fuck am I gonna get a chicken mask?”

  “Nowhere. Cecelia Beaton sent two with the invitations.”

  “Of course she did. Plastic masks, right?”

  “Nope. It was different for everyone, but we got full-blown furry masks.”

  “How does she figure we’ll drink?”

  I shrugged. “I guess she figures we’ll get creative.”

  “Now that I’ve met everyone, I’m dying to know who she is. Aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. Isn’t everyone?”

  “We should find out. You and me. You know everybody and can ask around without looking suspicious—”

  I stopped and turned, glad for my place a few steps above him so I could look down at him with some authority. “You don’t really want to know who it is, and neither do I.”

  He frowned. “Yes, I really do.”

  I folded my arms. “No, you really don’t. Why do you need to pull back the curtain? Why do you want to see Oz? Look at what we have. This spectacular thing we’re a part of. Because the minute you or I or anybody knows, it’s over. And if you find out, do you really think you could keep it to yourself? That knowledge is dangerous in anyone’s hands, but especially yours.”

  His frown deepened. “I wouldn’t betray—”

  “Be careful about the next thing that leaves your mouth because you literally just got out of the doghouse for this exact reason.”

  Wisely, he kept quiet.

  “You say you don’t want to burn it all down, but uncovering this secret will. So I’m asking you to let it go, Levi. Or you and I aren’t gonna be okay. Ice is thin enough as it is—don’t do anything stupid, like jump.”

  His face smoothed, his smile returning as he climbed the steps until we were eye-level. When his arms were wrapped around my waist, he said, “You’re right. And I promise to let it go.”

  “Good,” I answered with a smile, kissing him for a moment.

  And then we were on our way again.

  Levi didn’t knock, just unlocked the door, bracing it with his foot while he pulled the key out. “Billy, put some pants on. I brought a girl.”

  A voice from somewhere inside said, “If I must.”

  With a chuckle, Levi gave me a look that told me to get myself ready.

  And with wild curiosity and an even wilder smile, I nodded.

  The apartment was a relic, an old bachelor’s pad if I’d ever seen one. If I had to guess, nothing had been updated since his wife had passed, particularly the couch, which had an ass divot like I’d never seen before. But the space was bright, the light from the big windows setting an undeniable cheer on everything. It was a lot like Levi—the light shining on the darkness, highlighting the good and the bad, casting shadows on what didn’t want to be seen.

  I instantly loved every dusty corner.

  “A girl, huh?” the bodiless voice said from the back of the apartment, and around the corner he came, leaning heavily on his cane.

  Though they weren’t related, I found similarities between the two men that were indisputable. Their sizable height. The weathered air about them, as if they’d seen unimaginable things, things that had changed them irrevocably. They had the same sideways smile, and the peppering of black in his gray mane told me they’d once had the same color and density of hair.

  That crooked smile was pointed right at me. “Well, look at that. I’nt just any girl. This girl’s something else.”

  Billy and Levi shared a look, but I didn’t ask. Just stepped forward so I could shake his hand.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Jepsen. I’m—”

  “Stella Spencer,” he said as he t
ook my hand and gave it a proud and solid shake. “Anybody with two eyes and a brain between their ears knows who you are. Nice to meetcha.” His gaze shifted to Levi. “If you didn’t bring me my sandwich, you can go. But she’s stayin’.”

  Levi shook his head, unloading the sandwiches onto the table before putting away the groceries. “You’re a dog, Billy.”

  But Billy just shrugged and took a seat at the table, eyeing his sandwich hungrily. “Come on, sit down with me so it’s not weird.” He flagged me over with his hand and pointed to the seat next to him. “Whatdya get?” he asked as I sat.

  “Meatball sub,” I answered, reaching for the sandwich wrapped in foil.

  I was met with an approving look. “Look at that. I like a girl who’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.”

  “Come on, Pop,” Levi said, setting a cold beer in front of Billy and snagging a napkin from the stack on the table. “You’re gonna scare her off.”

  “Psh—I’m made of tougher stuff than that,” I noted, picking up my sandwich. I lined it up and took an obscene bite.

  Both of them gaped at me, and I tried not to be smug as I wiped a slide of sauce from my chin.

  “Attagirl,” Billy said, taking a rude bite of his own.

  “Beer?” Levi asked me, still bustling around the kitchen.

  “Yes, please,” I answered politely around the last of my impolite mouthful.

  A second later, he took the free seat at my other side, setting the bottles between us.

  “So what do you want to know?” Billy asked. “Sadly, I don’t have any naked baby pictures of the kid, but I got stories galore. Like the boiler.”

  Levi’s face flattened. “Don’t.”

  I leaned in. “Oh, please do.”

  “Well, ya see, Levi here was afraid of the boiler—”

  “Pop.”

  Billy ignored him. “Way back when, before I got nicked, I helped around here with the maintenance, and Levi used to come with me. Whole building knew him. He’d carry my tools—s’ what got those muscles started. Anyhow, so it’s the dead of winter and colder than a witch’s tit, and the boiler breaks. So me and Levi go down to the basement to see what’s what.”

  “Jesus, Billy, I swear to God if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna tell Stella about the fire escape.”

  “Oh, no you won’t, because then I’ll tell her about Tiffany Blick.”

  Levi stilled but for a narrowing of his eyes, marking his defeat.

  “So anyhow,” Billy continued, “we go down to the basement, and you know how these old buildings are—it’s creepy as shit down there, rats and a hundred years of dust and groany, old pipes. Levi here’s got my tools, holding ’em in front of him like they’d stop the boogeyman coming to get him, eyes like ping pong balls, all white around the edges. So he’s draggin’ ass behind me, and I get to the boiler, get down there, and pull off the panel to look inside.”

  Levi dropped his head to his hand to rub his temple.

  “So here I am on the ground, surrounded by rat shit and spiders and who knows what, lookin’ into this thing with a flashlight. Stand up, flip the breaker, and that thing started up like a screamin’ banshee. I mean it,” he said when I laughed. “I never heard a boiler thump and hiss and squeal like that before. I look back for Levi—he’s gone, tools and all. And before I can take a step, a battle cry if I ever heard one rips outta the kid, and out he jumps with a two-foot wrench, swings like Mickey Mantle, and hits that boiler hard enough to make a dent the size of my head. Broke the goddamn thing for good.”

  The two of us laughed, and Levi ignored us, eating his sandwich like he was alone.

  “But that was always Levi,” Billy said with the smile only a proud father could offer his son. “You got yourself a good one, Stella. Because my boy will take a wrench to whatever needs to be handled, ’specially if it’s to protect somebody he loves. You know,” he said, his voice softening, “when I took him in, I thought I was saving him. But the truth is, he’s the one who saved me.”

  Levi swallowed, his face touched with levity but his eyes bottomless. “Come on, old man. You’re gonna ruin your sandwich if you cry all over it.”

  Billy waved him off. “Feh, he’s also nosy as hell and a general pain in my ass, what with all the nagging. Take your meds, Pop? What’d you eat for lunch, Pop? So take that into account too, would you?”

  “I’ll add it to the list,” I said on a laugh.

  Billy picked up the conversation, launching into another story, but Levi and I shared a look—his coupled with a sheepish shrug and mine soft as stuffing. And part of me regretted coming, not because I wasn’t enjoying myself. But because I was enjoying myself too much, especially after his betrayal. It was just that I felt closer to him than ever. Like that argument was superglue, and now that what had been broken was put together again, it was stronger than it had been before. Now that he’d stripped himself down to the bolts, his truth was brighter than ever.

  I should have run. Stepped back. Put some space between us, because this? Whatever we were playing at? It wasn’t just for fun. And those stakes I’d counted as nominal got a little bit heavier with every day.

  Instead, I filled myself up with helium and floated away on the lie that I had it all under control.

  17

  Disco Chicken

  STELLA

  The inside of my mask was about as comfortable as a swamp in August.

  I couldn’t see shit and couldn’t talk to anybody in the bar with the thing on—even with it off, the music was so loud, who even knew if I could have talked to them anyway?—and my regret for the decision had grown with every bar. The only consolation was the photos.

  My outfit, aside from the ridiculous mascot mask, was an elaborately jeweled pair of hot pants and a bikini top of shining silver and white. An ornate diamond statement necklace was draped around my neck and collarbone, and my shoes were strappy and sparkling and stupid high. I’d have regretted that too had Levi not pushed me from bar to bar in the shopping cart full of disco balls and hot-pink and purple gel lights I’d procured.

  We were quite the sight, rolling through the Village in a whooping, clucking brood. The Bright Young Things were all spread out, having started from the first bar whenever they wanted and moving on when they wanted. Our group consisted of all my roommates, including Tag, and Levi. No one had brought a plus-one with pressure from Z, if I was going to guess. Z had refused the mask, dressing instead like a showgirl with a full-blown plume of feathers on her head and her ass and going so far as to install a prosthetic beak on her nose. She’d also attached herself to Tag like a fucking barnacle, who enjoyed any and all sexual attention.

  I hadn’t been able to convince Levi to dress up like a disco ball with me, so instead, he wore a white leisure suit and black shirt, which he’d unbuttoned to his belly button. I’d found him one of those men’s gold necklaces with a horn charm that hung brilliantly in the dusting of dark hair on his broad chest. With his rooster mask on, he looked fucking hysterical. Especially when he threw the Saturday Night Fever disco point, hip pop and all.

  He pushed his mask head into mine and shouted something, but it was nothing more than a mwah-mwah-mwah. So I pulled off my steam trap and shook my hair out, pointing to my ear.

  He took his off too, running a hand through his damp hair. “Want another drink, or should we go?” he yelled.

  I held up my index finger and mouthed One more at him.

  With a nod and a kiss, he handed me his mask and headed for the bar.

  Unready to put the goddamn thing back on, I set them on the empty table we’d claimed. I turned toward the dance floor, enjoying what felt like cool air on my cheeks. Truth was, it was probably ninety degrees in here, but after the mask, it felt as crisp as fall.

  Picking out our crew was easy enough, though the rest of the patrons watched on in wide-eyed wonder when they realized who we were. Cameras were out—snapping pictures for their social, I was sure—and a cluster of people
hovered around our disco cart taking pictures. Z and Betty were busy on the dance floor, and Joss cheered for them with a few of our other friends from the sidelines. I caught Tag with his tongue down the throat of a rando, which was super on-brand for him. A pack of Bright Young Things walked into the bar to a chorus of cheers, and more wandered around or danced, waving to each other and chatting.

  I always loved the pub crawls—they were a little more intimate, a way for us to all have the same experience but separately. You saw who you saw with stories to swap, and then everyone moved on to the next thing.

  A hand slipped into the slick small of my back, and I turned with a smile, expecting Levi.

  Instead, I found Dex.

  Half of his face was obscured by a masquerade mask covered in white feathers and tipped with a long golden beak. Other than yellow Converse, the only thing he had on was a pair of feathered boxer briefs with a plume of tail feathers on his ass.

  I didn’t want to invite him, not to anything ever again. But if he was left off the guest list, somebody would put the facts together and find me out, so here he was. The last person I wanted to see.

  I stiffened but smiled back, turning to face him so he couldn’t touch me so easily. “Hey, Dex.”

  “Lookin’ good, Stell.” He paused, seeming uncertain of what to say. “How’ve you been?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual.” I gestured to the dance floor.

  “It’s been …” He glanced down at his drink, then back up at me. When he leaned in, I made myself stay still instead of taking a step back like I wanted to. “Been missing you. Get my texts?”

  “I did. Sorry for not answering—I’ve just been so busy that I see it and forget until three in the morning.”

  “Three in the morning never stopped you before,” he said darkly. “Where’s that guy you’ve been running with?”

  “Levi? At the bar. It’s too hot in here not to have a drink in hand,” I said with a laugh, doing my best to keep it as light as I could, scanning the crowd. “Where’s Elsie?”