Page 42 of Falling Like Stars

I dip a French fry in a small pool of ketchup. “What do you want?”

Zach sighs and pushes his plate away. “I want this bullshit to be over with. It’s hard enough to mourn what you thought was going to be your life. It’s a lot harder without a clean break.” His phone buzzes, this time with a ringtone. Taylor Swift’s “You Need to Calm Down” emits from his jacket pocket. “It’s my publicist. I should probably…” He jabs a button. “Hey, Courtney. What’d I do wrong now?”

I watch as Zach listens, his face falling, brows coming together.

“Shit. Okay, yeah, send the link. Thanks.” He hangs up and studies his phone until a text chimes. He hits a button, and from upside down, I can see a blog post open. Zach scrolls warily until he comes to a photo, and then his hard expression all but melts off his face.

“Care to share?” I ask.

He glances up. “It seems as if someone at your party kept their cell phone after all.”

Zach hands me his phone so I can read a Scandal Sheet article. The Scandal Sheet is a Hollywood blog written by an anonymous someone or someones. Our very own Lady Whistledown, who seems to have a million contacts and sources. I try never to read that garbage, and now I’m on it.

Zachary Butler has been caught in a “intimate moment” with a mystery woman who happens to be me. I scroll down and there are photos of Zach, his back mostly to the camera but still obviously him, putting his Tom Ford jacket over my shoulders. Six photos in all: us talking, smiling, and the last one…

“Shit.”

The last one is me staring up at Zach, my face open, my smile easy, and my eyes drinking him in as if there were no one else in the world.

“It’s Dana,” I snap, returning his phone. “Dana took those pics and sold them.” Humiliation burns my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Zach. I don’t even know what to say. I’m mortified. Not to mention, professionally ruined. I’ll never be hired again.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Zach says, smiling gently. “You’re not ruined. Every producer in LA has seen this shit before and they don’t care. You’re too good at your job, anyway.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you so calm? This is probably why Eva’s calling you. You came here to work and now you have to deal with more drama.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I came to your party,” Zach says, and that same soft look comes over his face with an added pinch of mischief in his hazel eyes. “And besides, it’s kind of worth it.”

“How?” I demand. “How is it worth it?”

He turns the phone to show me the pic of me gazing up at him like a lovesick dope.

“Oh my God.” I shove his hand away. “That is not… That is one moment…”

A satisfied smile spreads over his luscious mouth as he studies the photo again. “I agree. That’s a moment.”

“Fucking hell…”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he says, putting his phone away. “If the camera had been pointing at me, they’d all see I was looking at you the same way.”

The air between us seems to heat up, and my heart is beating faster than necessary. I clear my throat. “I wasn’t looking like…anything. Just up. You’re so damn tall.”

He grins and takes up his burger, looking smug and triumphant. “Sure. That must be it.”

I toss a fry at him. “Oh, hush up.”

After dinner, Zachary pays the bill and we head back out into a cold, black night.

“Damn, look at the sky,” I say, forgetting to be clever, my breath stolen by awe. “I’ve never seen so many stars.”

Zach looks up, and for a moment, we both just watch the Milky Way swirl above us—a million stars scattered across the endless black like spilled diamonds.

“You never see this in LA,” he says. “Too much of our light trying to compete. But it can’t compete. Not with this.”

That he appreciates what we’re witnessing as much as I do tears down another wall somewhere in me. I want to turn and look at him, but I’m too scared of what might happen. A kiss, maybe. And then what?

Then you fall…

Just at that moment, one star—one diamond—loses its hold on the black velvet canopy and arcs down in a streak of silver before winking out like a firework.

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