King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

22. Stella

Chapter 22

Stella

“ H ow is this fair?” Mia had her hands planted on her hips and was staring at the rest of us. We were all trying to do the poses Tipsy, whose real name was Tanya, tried to get us to do. Well, Magpie put her two names together and just called her Tipsy Tanya, like she called Scarlett “Scarlett Beautiful” or Mia “Mia Gorgeou s ,” or even me “Stella Stellar.” She said she loved my name so much, she had to use it twice.

I wasn’t sure if it was Magpie or the alcohol talking.

Because besides yoga gear, that was what Tipsy had brought along. A big glass that she asked, with a Southern twang, for Scarlett to fill with wine. About thirty minutes in, all the women were bending like pretzels and laughing their asses off when they fell. All but Mia, who said it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t partake in the drinking, but it was all in fun.

“I’m not drinking,” I said.

Rosaria had joined us, and she mocked me with her mouth.

“Get mad, Stella Stellar,” Magpie whispered in my ear. “Get very mad and go off. She’ll back off.” Then she laughed so hard, her wine sloshed down her hand when Juliette fell over on her mat and said, “ Whoops , I think I crushed one of your flowers, Scarlett!”

Carmen grabbed Juliette by the hips once she was back up. “Is this how Romeo had you last night?”

“E www . Gross!” Mia said, but she was laughing too.

“Is that a proper downward dog?” Scarlett asked Tipsy.

“I would say so!” Tipsy was from Texas. She and her billionaire husband had bought a villa not far from Scarlett and Brando, and Tipsy’s husband was friends with Scarlett’s father. The husband had had a heart attack and, after almost dying, said he needed a slower pace of life. Tipsy said she needed a reason to get up in the morning, because watching the veggies grow just wasn’t her thang , and that was how all this got started.

“I couldn’t do downward dog anymore even if the puppies could stay in place,” Aunt Lola said, holding out her wine glass to Evelina for more.

Magpie did too. Magpie and Aunt Lola were sitting in wooden chairs, just watching.

“Am I the bartender?” Evelina asked. “Because I can do better than wine.”

“ Shh .” Magpie waved her glass. “We can’t let the men know! Or they might try to invade our space.”

“I think they’re too fearful to come close,” Mari said, really trying to do…something on her mat. A butterfly flitted around her as she plopped down, staring at the sky. “How nice,” she whispered, watching it come back.

“Remember what happened last time…who was it?” Magpie asked.

“Oscar the Grouch Jr!” Carmen said in a grouchy, Italian accent.

“Yes, Oscar the Grouch came by,” Magpie said. “We scarred him for life with our cat poses.”

“Very good, Maggie Beautiful!” Tipsy clapped, circling the women on the mats, eyeing them like she was observing poses. I didn’t think she was. Tipsy was only there for the booze. She might have mentioned not keeping any in the house because of her husband’s heart problems. “You remembered the cat pose!”

“How could I forget?” Magpie giggled.

“Yeah, especially when Carmen was meowing and saying she was going to get a cat suit and try the pose out in bed,” Juliette said.

“I’m a married woman.” Carmen shrugged. “Sue me!”

“And she’s going through the change.” Aunt Lola looked at me. “That can make you mad and murderous or hot and horny.”

“Love those alliterations, Aunt Lola!” Scarlett high-fived her from her mat.

“Yeah, and it just depends on the time of day,” Juliette said. “It’s called…the dreaded… swings !”

“And don’t ever… I REPEAT! ...ever let them talk you into believing it’s all just hot flashes. Because it’s not.” Carmen plopped down and took a large gulp of wine.

“I knew a woman back home who just woke up one day and… poof !” Juliette made a hand motion to go with it. “Hated her life. Had no idea how she got into the body she was in.”

Magpie moved her head closer. “What happened to her?”

“Was it aliens?” Tipsy whispered. “Those are real, you know.” She looked at me and nodded.

Not sure what else to do, I nodded back.

“No, not aliens. Men -o- pause . She wanted to pause men, or specifically, her husband for a while. She drained their life’s saving and ran off to Aruba for a while.”

“Did it help?” Scarlett asked.

Juliette shook her head. “Sadly, no. But the hormone therapy did!”

A moment of silence, and everyone except the younger women started almost howling with laughter.

Mia looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Geriatric millennial humor,” she mouthed at me.

I grinned, not able to help it. Then, as it usually did, a thought that shouldn’t have caused me so much pain did.

Mom would love these people.

She’d have loved to drink wine and do yoga with them. She would have had such a great time laughing with them.

The conversation took a different turn when Tipsy asked about Mia being pregnant again, and then Magpie told her we were having a wedding soon too—Matteo was getting married to me , her Stella Stellar.

Another sledgehammer to the heart. My mom wouldn’t be around for my wedding or any children we had. I laid back next to Mari and stared at the sky, wishing for a butterfly or something to flitter over my face. To carry off the weight of the hurt and take it someplace else. I closed my eyes when none came, and when I opened them, most of the women were standing and stretching.

A hand seemed to come down from the sky, reaching out for me. I blinked and then narrowed my eyes.

“How about a walk, bebe ?” Scarlett asked, wiggling her fingers at me.

I took her hand, and she helped me up. She nodded to the back of the house where a few sets of flip-flops were lined up. “The silver are yours,” she said. “I ordered a variety of colors. Tipsy said she found them in Texas and they’re like walking on air.” She smiled. “We’ll see.”

We both slipped into the shoes, and Scarlett wrapped her arm around mine.

“That walk?” She bumped her hip against mine.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “A walk would be nice.” It was a beautiful spring day, my bones and muscles were still whispering Matteo’s name, and I wanted to find him. It had been a while since I’d last seen him, and it was making me…antsy.

“Matteo and my husband can go for hours in the gym.” Scarlett tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “If Matteo or Brando has something to work through, the other will push until it helps.”

What did Matteo have to work through?

Scarlett, even though she seemed good at reading minds, didn’t answer me. She directed me down a different path until we came to a lush garden filled with so many plants I didn’t have names for. Little tags said their names, but I still hadn’t heard of most of them.

Mia joined us and sat down on the iron bench placed before the garden. She set her hand on her stomach, almost protectively, and sighed—it sounded so sad.

The wind blew cool against my warm skin, and I shivered. Needing to move, I started to explore the garden next to the one with the tags. Roses. Lots of them were in bloom. The smell of them was perfume in the air. I was drawn to them. I wasn’t sure why, but Scarlett and Mia seemed to be watching me.

At the same time the thought came into my mind, something before one of the rose bushes caught my eye. It was a little flat metal sign. I wasn’t sure what else to call it.

It said:

Matteo’s Garden.

Un po 'di lei. Un po 'di lui. Sarà sempre. Protetto in cielo.

A little of her. A little of him. Always will be. Protected in heaven.

I was confused by the words. This was Matteo’s garden, but her and him were protected in heaven?

I thought the wind had blown again and had sighed, but it was Scarlett suddenly standing next to me. Even though she’d had a glass or two of wine, she hadn’t drunk like the other ladies had. I could smell it on her breath, but it was faint, like her rose perfume.

I pointed down. “Is this for Matteo?”

“For our first Matteo,” she whispered, bending down and gently wiping off the metal sign with her fingers. It was already clean, but she did it anyway. “Matteo was named after him. Given the life he never had.” She stared at the sign until she looked up at me.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

She sighed, and for whatever reason, she seemed weak. I gave her my hand, like she did for me before, and she took it, not letting go.

She cleared her throat. “Brando and I were not going to have children,” she said in a small voice—a voice I’d never heard her use before. “Then…I got pregnant unexpectedly and didn’t know it. At the time, the Nemours wanted me to dance. I had danced for them, but things went sour, to say the least, and, well, a war started between us and them.” Her hand held on tighter to mine. “Olivier was able to get to me. He punched me in the stomach. And…we lost our first Matteo.”

Those people were whatever was worse than horrible, and the horror story Scarlett just told me was no surprise. But the truth of what she’d just said stole my breath and made tears run down my cheeks. Instead of trying to figure out what to say, which wasn’t going to heal her anyway, I hugged her. We cried together, because we’d both been abused by them.

We pulled away, and we were both trying to dry each other’s tears.

“How did it start for you?” I whispered.

“Before I left for Paris, Brando and I…separated for a while. When I got to Paris, I was extremity lonely and depressed. The Nemours scout for dancers to use. I was the one they wanted.”

“Did he turn you into some kind of freak?”

“You mean, did he make people believe I was not of this world? That I was somehow magical?”

“Yes.”

“He did.”

It felt so good to talk about this with someone who could understand. “You probably know this already, but it feels good to say it. My mom left me with Henri, for some reason. I think he’s my dad, because I’d met him before in Louisiana. Régine told me he was there to…find you, so I put the pieces together and figured that’s how he met my mom. She was a dancer at a strip club. Anyway, after mom left me with Henri, Régine stepped in and took over my care.

“Henri would talk to me and stuff, but he never really had anything to do with me either. I think he was afraid of Régine. Maybe of what she would do to me if he tried to be nice to me. One day, she came down to see me. She’d stuck me in the servants’ area of the house. I was dancing like my mom used to, mixing it up with what I’d learned in dance school. My mom had taken the extra job for extra money and enrolled me. She said she wanted me to dance proper. That was when Régine started to prepare me for a life I never wanted.”

Scarlett took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. “That family stole so much from us,” she whispered, her eyes flickering to the marker then back to mine. “It’s hard, but you’ll have to find a way to work through all that they put you through. You will have to learn how to live with what they’ve done and keep moving forward. You have such a beautiful life ahead of you. You are a star, bright and so magnetic.”

Our eyes locked, and I knew what she was saying, but I didn’t have the courage to just come out and say it. They stole my mom away from me, somehow, and I’d have to learn how to live with that, while also living without the shadow of it always stealing my sun.

That meant I’d have to face it first. I wasn’t ready.

Scarlett nodded. “Matteo is strong. He’s his father’s son. He’ll help. He’ll carry some of the burden so it won’t weigh you down.”

I nodded as her hands still cradled my face. “He’s helped so much already,” I whispered.

She smiled, but then a gentle breeze stirred the roses, seeming to rustle the look on her face. Her smile turned into pinched lips, then it was like she and Mia both froze. At first, I thought it was the honking coming from somewhere in the distance. But then I heard screaming and crying coming from a woman. A lot of yelling in Italian.

Magpie came running toward us, waving her hands. “Trouble in the villa!” She shouted. “Chloe found Massimo in bed with a naked woman!”

“What?!” Scarlett and Mia said at the same time.

Magpie nodded, barely out of breath when she reached us. She stuck her hands on her hips. “It’s the actress. The one Rosaria wants him to marry. He claims he was just sleeping, and he thought it was Chloe getting back into bed after her painting session. But it was Chloe who found them.”

“Rosaria sent her in there,” Mia said. “She set it up to hurt Chloe.”

Scarlett nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. “Chloe believes it.”

“Seems that way.” Magpie fixed her wide-brimmed sun hat and then fanned her face. “It’s unlike Massimo to sleep so late too. You don’t think...she drugged him?”

“Her own son?” The question just seemed to shoot out of my mouth.

The three of them nodded.

Scarlett looked in the other direction, and we all followed her stare. Brando and Rocco were coming toward us, purpose in both of their long-legged strides. It was the first time I’d seen either one of them wearing clothes that were not suits. They were in exercise clothes that were saturated with sweat.

Whoa. Those men were…fine, fine, fine . Fine in the same way Matteo was. And even though I could appreciate all the fine men around here, I didn’t think any of them had anything on Matteo. I could stop staring at them, if I had to, but I could never stop staring at him. He told me I was the light who brightened his darkness. He was the reason I had to shine, while also feeling protected. I wasn’t so alone while I burned.

Oh man. I tried not to sniff like a possessed girl when they made it to us. They smelled so good. Like sweat and the best colognes money had to offer. Magpie looked over at me and winked. My face caught fire.

No one but Magpie seemed to notice with all that was going on, though. And she never seemed to judge. None of these women did.

Brando motioned to the villa with his hand.

Scarlett took it. “I know,” she whispered.

Rocco’s eyes slowly moved from Scarlett to the villa, and then back again. He lifted his hands, and she took one of his too. I could tell she squeezed.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, letting go of Rocco’s hand. It seemed like he wanted to keep it, but she had let go.

Hmm …Brando had been staring at their hands the entire time, a hard look on his face. These men were possessive to no end.

Scarlett kept Brando’s hand while the four of them, Mia trailing behind, went back to the villa. It came to me again, the honking I’d heard earlier. It was like the entire world had been centered around what was going on inside, and suddenly, the real world was rushing back in.

Magpie looked toward the noise, setting a hand on her head, not letting the wind steal her hat. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the front of the villa. Noemi was waiting in a small, running convertible car. It looked sporty and fast and vintage and was the color of a candy apple. Half of her body was above the windshield, her head above it, and the other half was hidden by the car.

Her hand was midway to the horn again when she noticed us. She said something in Italian. Then looked at me. “About time!” She smiled. “Where is everyone?”

Magpie swatted the air, her nails matching the color of the car. “I’m not sure if it’s a long story or not, but it’ll keep a minute.” She tapped the hood. “Watchca got here?”

“A special delivery.”

“Oooh, one of the men wanting to buy it?” Magpie asked.

“A friend of mine is selling. I thought someone here might be interested.”

“Let’s take it for a test drive!”

I studied the seating in the car. It had two seats up front and barely one in the back.

Noemi gave Magpie a stern look. “You’re not driving!”

“Oh, poo.” Magpie pouted. “Why not?”

“Because even in Italy, you frighten the other drivers! Remember that guy you made cry?”

“Okay,” Magpie agreed. “That’s fair.” She looked at me. “A few incidents and everyone gets all testy about it. I’ll take the back.” She practically jumped in.

I looked toward the house, but Noemi hit the horn again. I took the passenger seat and couldn’t find a seatbelt. By the time I confirmed it, though, it was too late. Noemi had turned around, and in a cloud of dust, we were speeding away from the villa. By the time it cleared, we were gone.

My hands curled around the door handle, or whatever it was, and my knuckles were bright white from the pressure. Even though Noemi didn’t seem like a bad driver, the hills were winding, and she was taking them fast. I would have closed my eyes, but I was too afraid to. Maybe I’d have time to open the door and jump out and save myself in time. I would have rested my head against the window, but they were down, along with the top. Wind whipped against me and through my hair. Magpie had a permanent hand on her hat.

“I love this car!” Magpie said, and we swerved with a turn. “What did you say it was? I know it’s a Fiat but can’t remember the type.”

“It’s a ’57 Fiat-Abarth 750,” Noemi shouted over the wind.

“This would be such a cute car for you, Stella Stellar.” Magpie shouted in my ear. She was wedged in the middle of the seat, leaning between me and Noemi.

“That’s what I thought too!” Noemi hit the horn, meeeeep meeeep , at a slower driver and then made a hand gesture at them as we passed. “I think the color might be wrong. My friend has a silver too. But! I thought the red was a bit showy and wanted to drive it.”

“Me?” I looked at her. “Drive?”

“Well, yeah,” Noemi said. “Matteo can teach you. No problema .”

“I think that’s a splendid idea!” Magpie dug around in the back seat and came up with a leather bag. She set it between us, using the strap to dangle it. “What’s this?”

“A camera. I was going to take a few pictures of Stella with it, but then decided to take them on my cellphone instead. That way I’ll have the pictures back pronto. I have a guy in Hollywood who’s really interested. Remember that documentary I did?”

Magpie tapped her lip. “The one about Sicilian being a language, not just a dialect, and how Italy as a whole felt about it?”

“That’s the one! Well….” She drew the word out. “It’s going to be shown at the Cannes Film Festival!”

“Woo hoo!” Magpie patted her head. “Way to go, Doll!”

“Way to go!” I said, even though I had no idea what that was.

Noemi smiled at me. “I wanted to invite you and Matteo to come along with me and my family. I want to get you out there. I know—I just feel it in my bones—that you have what it takes. The camera will love you!”

“I think the camera would love Matteo,” I said, glad to finally have something to take my mind off the ride.

Noemi laughed. “None of the Fausti men will act or sing. Believe me, I’ve tried to convince all the ones I’ve met. And that’s been a lot over the years.”

“Will sing professionally ,” Magpie put in. “Luca enjoys singing very much.”

“And what a voice he has.” Noemi sighed. “Their faces…you can stare at them for hours and not get sick of them. Better yet, they’re like watching a black and white film or reading a divine book that you can mostly understand from another time in history. You can find so much depth, romance, and intrigue there. And you always find something that makes each man unique, and you always find something you didn’t the first time.”

Magpie pulled an envelope out of the bag. “What’s this?”

“I brought along the script for Stella to read over. She’s so perfect for Valentina.”

Magpie started to read it, and I had to admit, it was nice hearing her voice while we explored the Tuscan countryside. She stopped a few seconds later, tapped her front tooth, then did something with her phone. She handed it to me while music played.

“Set that on the dash, Stella Stellar. We need some background music.”

Noemi sighed again. “‘ Amore mio aiutami .’ Love it. And love Piccioni. Perfect.”

“I think so too,” Magpie whispered. Then she continued reading the script.

With the warm weather, the soft Italian music, and the way Magpie’s voice brought the script to life, the turns seemed like a dancing sway instead of serpentine twists to make me sick.

Every once in a while, Magpie would read a line and Noemi and I would glance at each other. I loved the way Magpie was reading, how she took the emotion from the line and brought it to life. She should have been an actress. She was like an Italian Marilyn Monroe. She even walked like her—a little sway to her behind.

Magpie did it again, brought the line to life, and Noemi and I looked at each other. I must have moved my eyes forward first, because I screamed “GUY!” a few seconds before Noemi screamed “SHIT!” and hit the brakes.

“Don’t stop!” Magpie shouted.

The guy was pointing something at us.

Noemi hit the gas again, and the little car picked up speed in no time. The guy wasn’t moving, though. He kept his arm outstretched.

“A gun!” Noemi shouted and the car sounded like it was revving as it seemed to go even faster.

“What the hell, what the hell, what the hell,” I kept chanting. “He’s not lowering it!”

“Everyone duck!” Magpie shouted.

We all did, and then…a huge thu mp . We all screamed when we sat up straighter. The guy was on the hood, his face plastered to the windshield. His eyes were wide open, and a smear of blood was on the glass from his mouth.

Noemi made a gagging noise. “Did I kill him?”

Magpie reached over and hit something around the steering wheel. The motor made a groaning noise.

“I don’t think the windshield wipers are going to help,” Noemi said in a panic.

“He’s a big bug!” Magpie said, her voice angry. “We need to get him off the windshield.”

“Oh man,” I barely got out. “Do you think he’s one of… them ?” I whispered the last word.

“One of the— oh! ” Magpie squeezed my shoulder.

His eye was on me, and it was freaking me the fuck out. Evelina had told me earlier when she was showing me all the things my watch could do that if my heart rate spiked, my watch would register it. It did. It was vibrating against my wrist, and if I didn’t hit the button on the side twice, it would send help without me having to say anything. I didn’t hit the button twice. Let them come. I kept thinking about Matteo and wanted to see his face so badly, it was like I was wishing him into existence in front of me.

“On the count of three, slam on the brakes, Noemi,” Magpie ordered. “Then hit the gas again—as fast and as hard as you can.”

“I’ll run him over again!”

“That’s the idea.”

“Maggie!”

“Do it! We can’t take any chances!”

“If he’s innocent?”

“Why was he pointing a gun at us?” Magpie asked.

“Good point.” Noemi took a deep breath, then she started to count to three…

1…

2…

3…

She slammed on the brakes, but the guy didn’t move.

“Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Noemi said, hitting the gas again, and slamming on the brakes once more.

It was like the tiny car couldn’t dislodge the burly guy. I thought maybe he was dead. He wasn’t fogging up the window with his breath, and he wasn’t moaning or trying to get off. It was hard to ignore the blood smear on the windshield. It was a haunting view.

A second later, a storm of fast cars seemed to surround us, and Noemi slowed down when she noticed it was our people. She came to a full stop when Saverio made a motion to her. Men swarmed our car. Two of them removed the guy from the hood and drug him out to the countryside. He wasn’t fighting. One guy had him by the collar, and his head bobbed while his arms and legs seemed useless.

Matteo looked me over, his eyes crazed. His pupils were dilated, all the chocolate brown melted into black. I’d never seen them that way before, and it made my heart feel like it was going to explode inside my chest. The weather suddenly felt too hot, even though my insides felt cold, and I just wanted to close my eyes and wish the last forty-five minutes away.

“Teo!” Saverio called from the field.

Matteo was on high alert, because I’d never seen his head move that fast before. His eyes were laser focused, and he seemed as hard as stone. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing or not. He reminded me of a hunter. A dangerous hunter on the prowl.

Nonno was there, looking over Magpie, and I could see where Matteo got the intensity from.

Matteo looked me over once more, then went to walk away from me, but I snatched his wrist and refused to let go. Maybe it was then that he saw the fear in my eyes. Or felt it through my fingertips. I had no fucking clue. But the direction of his thoughts seemed to change. He shouted something to Saverio, who nodded once and then said something to the men around him.

Nonno had already got Magpie situated in another car. Matteo opened my door, gave orders to another man to drive Noemi home, then scooped me up. He brought me over to another car, a dark, fast-looking cat-beast of a sports car, and set me in the passenger seat. The windows were so tinted, I couldn’t see inside. The interior was all leather and shiny dash, and it smelled like him.

I breathed in the cool, scented air while he walked around the hood. He stopped for a second to talk to Saverio, who went in another direction. Matteo had a gun on him. The sun hit it, and it glinted in my eyes. The barrel was as dark as his car, but the holder was silver.

Neither of us said anything as we sped away from the scene—so fast, I closed my eyes to the rush of it.