Page 11 of A Summer of Stars

Of course, Kieran’s team sought out this “undisclosed source.”

Two days later, a bouquet of flowers was sitting on my stoop, along with a scalloped notecard that read:It was lovely meeting someone so self-absorbed. No name, but I knew who it was. It wasn’t very clever, but I guess that wasn’t the purpose.

That note passed through enough hands—or at least one pair of gossipy ones—to start a tabloid story.

“Luna Aldridge Called Self-Absorbed”

“Tennis’s Princess Toxic Behind the Scenes?”

“Sources Say Tennis Star Luna Aldridge Is Arrogant”

A picture of the notecard on my doorstep was shared like a piece of family gossip on Christmas Eve. I suffocated in an overheated room in a tightly zipped dress with too many cousins asking the same questions and aunts giving the same judgmental glares (the cousins being my group of friends, and the aunts, the press).

Looking back on it, it was nothing compared to the scandal. But that didn’t make it any less annoying. Like a gnat that kept coming back. After one too many bites, I wanted it gone.

Seeing Kieran now, at this table, was the reemergence of every suppressed memory. It was something I preferred to push to the back of my mind.

The most unbearable part of it all: As much as I couldn’t forgetthe look on his face when he said those words, I also couldn’t rid myself of the interaction we had prior.

His hand brushing mine.

My eyes glued to his face.

I know.

My mother had always said,You never forget a handsome man. She’d look right at my father when she said it. Kieran Alexander was most definitely one of those men.

But you also never forgot a man who called you a narcissist.

This was the first time I’d seen him in almost a year. The last time was at a morning show doing an interview. We didn’t spare each other more than a passing glance. Our most civil exchange.

Today, his hair was disheveled under a baseball cap, paired with a T-shirt and jeans. He looked like a guy you’d pass on the street, not a Hollywood actor. His blue eyes weighed on me heavily.

As I sat across the room-length table, PR and management teams around us, I decided I’d pretend this arrangement didn’t bother me. Something about being emotionless sounded comical—

Deidra spoke up. “Shake hands. The two of you.”

We met in the middle. I stuck my hand out first like it was a competition. He met mine instantly. I squeezed his knuckle with every muscle in my palm.

“That’s enough,” another woman intervened. We pulled away from each other.

I sat as Deidra granted me a Scary Mother Look, usually designated for her daughter Emma. I’d been reduced to the level of a ten-year-old. At least I was being compared to a fun ten-year-old.

Emma was like one of those snow globes that sparkled when you shook them. Shelovedsparkles. The whole team loved her. Shealways made everyone colorful drawings for our monthly dinners. Last month she crafted paper crowns, ranging from chartreuse to lavender. I had never seen such rich construction paper. I bought some for Deidra to give her in case she wanted to make more for tonight.

“Based on the calendar you gave us and the one we currently have, we’ve curated a four-month plan of every instance in which you two will be seen together,” Deidra explained. She slid a printed copy to me, and Kieran’s PR manager, Nari, passed one to him. As if on cue, everyone opened the packet with us.

“Mr. Alexander, you’ll go to one match this month, then one per tournament moving forward once you’re in Europe together,” Deidra explained.

Europe. That word was melted provolone on French bread.

Traveling to Europe was my favorite part of the tennis season. I got to spend weekends drinking wine in generation-old family restaurants; walking cobblestones at night accompanied by the laughs of locals; breathing in ocean air that powered sails. Even the courts in Europe were better. We didn’t play professionally on clay courts in the US, but they were as popular as pasta in Italy when you crossed the ocean. They weren’t everyone’s favorite due to the bounce resistance of the ball, but my knees worked better on a softer surface.

Trying to place Kieran in these blissful plans was like putting your drunkard uncle in a Christmas card.

“The goal is to make this as believable as possible, and it won’t be believable if the two of you are seen together too often, too soon,” Deidra finished.

Nari nodded in agreement. “You’ll be seen together just a select number of times. We want it to appear like you’re hiding a summer fling. Then, when you head to Europe, your relationship will growmore serious, and you’ll be seen together at most events, like Kieran’s premieres.”