Anyone But the Superstar (Anyone But You #3)

Chapter 20

20

LIZ

Something’s wrong.

And I don’t mean the fact that my sister is apparently not coming. Although that should be my main concern.

‘Holt, that brisket was fantastic.’ Felix wipes his mouth with his napkin, avoiding my eyes as he’s done the entire meal despite the fact that I’m sitting directly across from him.

‘Hear, hear, bro.’ Rose, sitting to my left at the end of the table, raises her iced tea glass. ‘Although you could’ve just cooked it all here.’

Holt, Rose’s brother, shrugs. ‘I like my kitchen.’

A little over an hour ago, Holt sauntered into his sister’s house with covered containers full of meat and side dishes.

‘Besides, I wanted to use my new smoker.’

‘Is that how you cooked it?’ Amanda asks, her hand falling on Felix’s shoulder next to her as she leans forward to catch Holt’s eyes. ‘It was delicious.’

I smile in agreement, while thinking rude, appendage-slapping thoughts .

Felix nods, asking Holt more about his smoker, not seeming to care that Amanda’s hand stays where it is.

My face hurts. My smile unnatural since I asked Felix about his mother not long after we arrived.

I hadn’t thought much of Felix’s silence on the drive over to Vance and Rose’s house, having been too preoccupied with the nerves multiplying in my belly the closer I got to meeting my sister. But when he avoided my touch after I got out of the car, I thought maybe the problem was Mike. That despite their slow-burn bromance, between his latent fear of house cats and the latest Neutral Buoyancy Lab debacle, Felix wasn’t comfortable having Mike here, even if he was in the car.

So instead of letting Mike free-range in the limo as I’d planned, I double knotted his leash to one of the seat belts and piled a mound of treats beside him. On top of which, I had the chauffeur promise me – in front of Felix – that he would keep the partition down so he could keep an eye on Mike at all times.

Still, Felix’s smile remained dimmer than usual and the space between us glaringly wide.

Leading me to believe that if it isn’t his mother or Mike that’s the problem, it’s me.

And between having been so consumed with wondering what I did wrong, and going out to the car to check on Mike, I haven’t had time to mourn the profound disappointment that my sister isn’t here.

‘So Anne.’ Beautiful as always in a simple, blue shift dress, Amanda shifts her attention to me. ‘I’ve heard your internship is over.’

My eyes cut to Felix, still arguing the merits of braising versus smoking with Holt before zeroing back on Amanda’s hand still lingering on Felix’s shoulder. ‘Yes. ’

Amanda blinks at my less than inviting tone, her eyes following mine to her hand. ‘Oh.’ Straightening, her hand finally falls to her side.

The relief coursing through me is grating.

‘Since filming at NASA is wrapping up, the pre-production team is leaving, right?’ Amanda’s smile is kind. ‘Did you enjoy working as a storyboarder?’

‘Yes.’ I take a breath, attempting to quell my petulant thoughts and feelings. ‘It was an interesting experience.’

‘I’ve seen lots of storyboards before, but yours really came together like a complete story.’ She looks at Felix, as if to corroborate her opinion, but he’s moved on, now laughing with Vance.

‘What’s a storyboard?’ Trish, the author of Countdown to Love and the second pregnant woman I saw at the press junket, chimes in with her Steel Magnolias ’ accent.

‘Kind of like an illustrator.’ Amanda turns back to me looking hopeful. ‘You have to take the adapted screenplay and transcribe it into pictures, right?’

Pulling my concentration away from Felix, I mull over Amanda’s assessment. ‘Yeah, I guess that’s true.’

‘You’re looking for an illustrator, aren’t you?’ Ian Kincaid, Trish’s handsome husband and the son of a state senator, says as he places another slice of corn bread on her plate.

I’m lucky that all the political fundraisers the Moores have attended or contributed to have been north of the Mason Dixon Line.

Trish takes a large bite before answering with a nod. ‘Hmm mmm.’

‘Oh, that’s great.’ Rose, sitting opposite Vance at the end of the table, lifts her large mass of blonde hair off her neck and holds it to her head as if trying to cool down. ‘Now Trish can finally go about creating those pornos she’s been wanting to publish.’

That gets everyone’s attention. Even Felix’s.

Vance excuses himself from the table.

‘They aren’t porn .’ Trish pouts after swallowing her corn bread. ‘I’m looking to create mature web comics from my romance novels.’ She shoves another big piece in her mouth, still sulking.

Ian leans over and kisses her full, chipmunk cheek.

‘Relax.’ Rose lowers one hand from her head to take a long pull from her iced tea. Finished, she holds the cold glass to her neck. ‘I meant porno in the best possible way.’ She scans the table. ‘I mean, who doesn’t like a little spice in their stories?’

‘Amen,’ I say before I can think better of it.

Rose laughs. ‘I like you.’

When she winks at me, some of the hurt from Felix’s avoidance and disappointment from my sister’s absence wanes.

Vance comes in with a portable fan, plugging it in near his wife. Flipping it on, he hands her a hair clip.

Eyes closed to the breeze now blowing her way, Rose secures her hair with the clip. ‘I knew there was a reason I married you.’

Holt snorts, getting up from his spot next to Rose. ‘I’ll get the pie.’

‘There’s pie?’ Trish and Rose both ask, eyes gleaming.

The table chuckles.

‘While they couldn’t make dinner, a few more guests should be coming for dessert.’ Vance, still standing by his wife, slides his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ll let them know it’s?—’

The doorbell chimes.

‘Ah.’ Smiling, Vance re-pockets his phone. ‘I bet that’s them.’

Heart beating faster, my eyes stay glued to the dining room’s archway. Maybe my sister will come. Maybe then I can stop thinking about Felix and…

All maybes die a gruesome, violent death when the chauffeur, not my sister, walks into the dining room.

He’s holding a black satin leash attached to a rhinestone collar.

An empty rhinestone collar.

‘What do you mean, Mike Hunt’s escaped?’

Rose drops her pie fork, Ian chokes on his coffee and the slice of pie Holt was in the middle of serving plops onto the tablecloth.

As the chauffeur relays the absurd and yet unsurprising story of the cat’s Houdini act through the open sunroof, I toss my napkin and push back my chair. ‘Did you see where he went?’

‘Her cunt’s a dude?’ Rose whispers.

‘Rose West.’ Holt admonishes. ‘That’s too much, even for you.’

Rose snorts. ‘Please. I’m the definition of too much . I should probably make “cunt”—’ she air quotes ‘—my go-to curse word.’

‘Please don’t.’ There’s desperation in Vance’s plea that I’d find amusing if it wasn’t for the thing besides my brother’s missing cat catching my attention.

‘Rose West?’ I glance at Holt before landing on Rose. ‘I thought your name was Bodaway?’

‘West is my maiden name,’ Rose says.

My heart feels like its beating out of my chest. ‘So that means your brother?—’

‘Holt?’ Rose frowns at the man holding the pie server .

‘Ah, no.’ Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the world isn’t this small. ‘I mean, do you have another brother? Married to?—’

‘Um, ma’am?’ The chauffeur holds out the leash and collar in his hands.

Shaking off the urge to ask more questions, I grab the leash, winning the battle when I notice the collar is set to the second to last largest hole even though there’s a very distinct indentation where the collar should be belted, three holes smaller.

Apprehension, disappointment, and frustration funnel into anger as I glare at Felix. ‘Why did you make it so loose?’

Felix’s brows lower while Amanda’s shoot up.

But before he can answer, or Amanda can ask why a storyboarder/emotional support animal sitter is taking such a sharp tone with her employer, I hustle to the front door.

I should’ve never left Mikey in the damn car. I should’ve checked on him more. I should’ve told Felix to fuck off with his douchebag attitude and co-star flirtation and brought Mike inside with me as planned. And I most definitely should not have let my previous privilege assume tonight’s dinner would be a larger gathering that included all current astronauts.

At the very least, I should’ve asked for a freaking guest list.

Felix catches up to me as I reach for the front door’s handle. ‘I’ll help look for him.’

‘Don’t bother.’ My jaw is clenched as tight as my hand on the collar.

He leans against the front door, preventing me from opening it. ‘Look, I’m sorry about the collar. I hadn’t wanted to choke him.’ When I don’t respond, he leans in. ‘ You’re the one who had me put the collar on him in the first place.’

Dropping my hand, I square up to him. ‘So now it’s my fault?’ Resentment and tears threaten to spill over.

‘No, I?— ’

Pushing back the tears, I lean into the resentment. ‘So sorry the safety of my cat has once again damaged your all-important image.’ It seems my resentment manifests as sarcasm. ‘Heaven forbid this lowly intern get in the way when there are so many more important people to impress.’

And there it is. The real reason I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything other than Felix tonight. It started with me second-guessing my dress, then every action I took since we arrived as I watched Felix smile and converse with those with more important titles at the table.

Felix is acting just like my ‘father’ did at the thousands of dinners I spent my lifetime attending as a dress-up doll that was only to be seen and spoken to when I was of benefit.

And I’ve let it bother me. Consume me. Just like I did with Stanley Moore.

Finally, a real expression crosses over Felix’s Hollywood features. Confusion.

Well, welcome to the club, Johnny Douchebag.

‘Listen, Anne, I?—’

Knock. Knock.

Felix and I startle before he steps back and I swing the door open wide.

I’m half-expecting to see Mike Hunt sitting on his haunches, paw outstretched on the other side, acting impatient over the two seconds it took me to greet him.

And while it is Mike Hunt, he isn’t twitching his tail on the doormat.

He’s cuddled-up in the arms of a woman.

Feli x

‘Em.’ Anne looks more surprised to see the public relations manager than she is to see Mike in her arms.

I nod at the man next to Em. ‘Park.’

Anne mutters something that sounds like ‘guest list’ under her breath.

The astronaut nods back, his annoyingly memorable smile flashing. ‘Found this little guy wandering around the bushes on our way in.’

‘Hey, Em.’ Vance comes up behind Anne and me, looking over the newcomers. ‘Park.’ He leans between us. ‘Is this the infamous cat?’

‘Yes.’ Anne slides the collar over Mike’s neck before tightening it. ‘This is Mike.’ Collar secure, Anne takes Mike from Emily’s arms. ‘Thanks so much for finding him.’

‘To be fair, he found me.’ Em points to her silk sleeves dress with rhinestone buttons down the front. ‘I think he liked my buttons.’

‘He’s a bit of a handful, isn’t he?’ Park turns his smile on Anne.

Even more annoying than his smile is the effect it appears to have on Anne – all the tension between her brows, tension that’s been there all night, vanishes.

‘Yes.’ Smiling back, she lowers Mike to the floor. ‘If you don’t know how to handle him.’

Even not looking at me, the dig lands.

‘Hey there.’ Vance pulls up his pant legs and squats down to Mike’s level.

Anne’s grip on the leash whitens when Vance reaches out to pet him, sighing in relief when Mike melts into Vance’s hand, purring.

Then, as if embracing the formality of his tuxedo, Mike leads everyone inside, sashaying into the foyer with his nose up, tail curled.

‘What a sweet guy.’ Vance follows, fascinated. ‘I bet he’s a great emotional support animal when he isn’t running away.’

It takes me a minute to realize he’s talking to me, because Mike is supposed to be my emotional support animal. ‘He can be.’

‘Yeah.’ Park chuckles. ‘Not at all the alien menace he looks like on the NBL’s pool footage.’ He holds up a thumb drive. ‘Which I brought, by the way.’

My smile feels more feral than Mike Hunt. ‘Great.’

Twenty minutes after everyone witnessed Mike Hunt’s skinny-dip in NASA’s foremost state-of-the-art micro-gravity training pool, played out on Vance and Rose’s big screen TV, the star of the show is cuddled like a baby in Park In-Su’s arms.

‘Jules is going to be sad she missed Mike,’ Trish says, eating her second piece of pie on the couch next to Park. ‘She’s become quite the animal lover since she adopted Cookie.’

Mike purrs against Park’s chest like the fly-by-night playboy he is.

Anne, next to Park, breaks her astronaut-infatuated trance. ‘Cookie?’

Trish nods. ‘Her pet cow.’

‘Then there’s her dog, Rocket,’ Rose adds, facing the fan Vance moved to the side table next to her. ‘I call him Red for short.’

Holt, beer in hand, rolls his eyes. He seems to be one of the only people here not enamored with the hairless beast. ‘I don’t regret our cow or dog, but I do question my sanity over our goat every morning when I wake up to it bleating before the damn rooster crows.’

I frown at Holt. ‘Our?’

‘You didn’t know?’ Vance asks. ‘Holt is married to Julie Starr.’

‘And our other brother—’ Rose gestures between herself and Holt ‘—is married to Dr Jackie Darling Lee.’

Anne goes still.

Rose shrugs. ‘It seems the Wests have a kink for astronauts.’

‘Wow.’ Amanda nods, looking impressed. ‘That’s one astronomical kink.’

Trish snorts. ‘Good one.’

‘Is she coming?’ Anne asks, her voice at half volume.

‘Who?’ Vance asks.

‘Dr Jackie Darling Lee.’ Anne clears her throat. ‘Is she coming tonight?’

‘Sadly—’ Rose tilts her face back into the fan’s airstream ‘—Jackie is nerding out tonight at an interactive virtual reality thing.’

‘Did you want to meet Jackie?’ Trish asks, catching Anne’s disappointment.

‘Oh, um, yes.’ Her face flushes. ‘I’m a big fan of Dr Lee’s.’

‘Uh oh.’ Park leans his arm against Anne’s beside him. ‘I thought I was your favorite astronaut.’

Distracting myself from the pinprick of jealousy, I grab one of the cookies off the plate Holt set on the coffee table earlier. ‘These are great. Glad to know I’m not the only guy who can bake.’

Holt nods with a smile. ‘Which makes me happy that you’re the one staying in Jules’ condo. All the cooking equipment I bought her will finally get some use.’

Anne’s wide eyes bore into me, as if in warning .

‘Wait.’ Em shifts on the couch, frowning at me. ‘ You’re staying in Jules’ condo?’

‘Yeah.’ Vance snags a cookie for himself. ‘I gave Felix the key when his hotel was infiltrated by fans.’

‘And I appreciate it.’ I speak slowly, not understanding Anne’s reaction or Em’s pointed interest.

Until Em’s next statement.

‘But I gave Anne the key.’

Merde .