Page 86 of A Summer of Stars

“Time to go.” Nari grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the room. Death wasn’t on today’s agenda, so I followed her down the steps and onto the cobblestone streets. The ocean air hit my face as we jogged across the street and took the steps down to the dock. The rest of the cast was waiting in the upscale motorboat.

“Nothing like Kieran to be late!” Claire, the French director, shouted from the boat.

“He made it again!” Danny, one of the actors, clapped. It had been two years since I wrapped this indie film (alongside filmingSaving September), and theystillweren’t going to let me live down my inability to get anywhere on time.

“It’s called being fashionably late,” I argued, sitting down before I had the chance to tip over and fall into the water.

“All right, hot shot.” Jonathan, who starred in the film and played my love interest, snagged the collar of my button-down. “This for the girl?” He eyed me suspiciously. Jonathan wasn’t much for tabloid drama. But seeing as Luna and I were plastered across every French magazine from our night in Paris, I wasn’t surprised he’d know about us now.

“How do you know I didn’t wear this for you?”

He scoffed and hit my chest. The small number of people on the boat that made up our entire cast laughed.

“Come on! You were late, you must pay the price now and answer our questions,” he insisted.

I put my sunglasses on to block out the sun and the look on Nari’s curious face. The motor sent ripples through the water, joining a line of identical boats. About a mile out was the sparklingentrance of the Cannes Film Festival. A red carpet and canopy acted as an open mouth on the coast as boats pulled up one by one, dropping well-dressed guests off. It fit right in with the long coastal line of colorful roofs and forest-green mountains. The French Riviera was a stark difference from Paris’s neutrals.

“I saw she won the French Open yesterday.” He nudged my arm.

“She did.” I nodded. And I got to see her win in real time. It was legendary. Everything about her was unfathomable and mystifying.

Two hours of tense back-and-forth, and she didn’t show an ounce of emotion until the last point was hers. Her hands flew to her mouth and the entire arena cheered for her as the umpire affirmed her win. It was as if all of the excitement and hope she had kept bottled up during the match had finally burst.

It was easier to distract myself with her feelings than to piece together my own.

“You’ll have to congratulate her for me,” he added.

“She’ll actually be here,” I said, turning in my seat to see if she was in one of the boats behind us. I didn’t see a single black dress, though. My stomach turned. Maybe she wasn’t coming. Yesterday was long—hell, the last four weeks had been long for her. Wimbledon and Roland-Garros back to back, and the Madrid Open in one week. Not to mention she was sick in between it all. And then two nights ago at the jazz club…

By the time I stopped looking, we were approaching the dock.

Photographers sandwiched both sides of the red carpet, which led up a grand set of stairs to the theaters.

Jonathan stepped out, greeting everyone with a cordial wave. I followed him and waited, helping Claire and Nari out.

“Anything you want to get off your chest?” Nari whispered before I stepped any further.

“Other than you having a concerningly strong grip for someone with such bony hands?”

“We haven’t had a chance to really dissect how Wednesday night went. I didn’t think it was necessary since it squashed most of the PR rumors, but then I just watched you space out when Jonathan mentioned her.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, taking a step forward. She followed behind me with urgency. But I wasn’t about to have Nari force me into talking about kissing Luna when we were in front of a million cameras. Thinking about her any more than I already did swept me into a black hole of bleeding emotions.

I left Nari to catch up to the cast, looping my arm over Jonathan’s shoulder, smiling for the cameras. We all matched quite nicely. Everyone in the cast wore different shades of blue and white to coordinate with the movie poster.

After a few moments, we were separated and directed to different reporters. I waved as I walked across the carpet, being pulled into an interview with a journalist from the French Film Academy.

“I didn’t realize how back-to-back the filming of this was to your other upcoming film,Saving September. How did you put yourself in the mindset for this role in comparison to playing Theo Bennett?”

“Yeah it definitely took some juggling. But Claire, the director, and I had spent several weeks putting together boards and boxes filled with several things that resonated with the character. From the types of pens he would write with to how he’d decorate his apartment, in order to get a true perspective of who he was outside the script. It really helped—”

A wave of shouts from the photographers disrupted our conversation. Another boat had anchored.

Holy shit. I pulled my sunglasses off.

She came here wearingthat?

My heart lurched and tumbled as I stared at the woman standing in the boat, waiting to step off. She had a long crimson red gown on that hugged her chest, waist, and hips in the most excruciating way. Red diamonds ran up and down her body like constellations. I wanted to run my hands across the fabric and trace lines between the stones.