Release the Stars (21 page)

Charlie grabbed a napkin. “Maybe it is time for a follow-up to
Crying Rivers
.”

“Make it a happy one.” Jo leaned back a bit. “I can’t take another tearjerker like that.”

“There was so much truth in that book, though. No wonder I avoided any mention or thought of it after you and I parted ways.
Underground
being picked up also gave me the perfect excuse to pretend I wasn’t who I was.”

“I think you should do it, Charlie. Write the book.”

“My getting-over-you book?” Charlie attempted a grin. “Are you jealous because Robin has one dedicated to her and you don’t?”

Jo squeezed Charlie’s hand. “I think I have a right to it,” she joked. “Seven years with Charlie Cross should have at least earned me that.”

Charlie stifled a chuckle, then cleared her throat. “When did you fall out of love with me?”

Jo huffed some air out of her nostrils. “I never did. You fell out of love with yourself.”

Charlie pulled up an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I’m fucking amazing.” It came out as a whisper full of irony.

“In all earnestness. Not long after our sixth anniversary, just after the rights to
Underground
had been sold, something changed. I don’t know if it was because dealing with Hollywood pushed you out of your comfort zone, or if it was something between us. All I know is that I didn’t change, but you slowly slipped away from me, and I tried and I tried, but there was nothing I could do to make you snap out of it. You sort of shut down. You stopped trusting me, I know that much. And when you looked to the future, it always felt as though there was no room in that picture for me. It may seem as though I’m the one who hurt you by leaving, but you hurt me, too, Charlie. Deeply.”

“I’m sorry.” Charlie was truly sniveling now.

“I’ve moved on. I’m happy with Christian. But you, Charlie, you’re such a mess.”

Charlie withdrew her hand from the table and tried to catch some of her tears. She hoped Christian wasn’t about to make his return to the table. She didn’t want him to see her this way. Not to mention she was in public. So far, only one person had addressed her, but surely more recognized her. A paparazzi might be skulking behind some trees down the road, his ultra-zoom lens aimed at her like the barrel of a gun.

“Oh, fuck it.” Through her tears, Charlie gazed at Jo. She was crying, too. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this here.”

“My bad.” Jo produced a packet of tissues from her purse and offered one to Charlie. “I think Christian went for a stroll around the block.” She managed a chuckle. “The fact of the matter is, Charlie, I don’t want to keep on pretending you never existed to ignore the pain of our breakup. If anything, I would like you to be part of my life again.”

“It
has
been almost a year.” Charlie dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “I suppose we can give it a go.”

“Thank goodness.” A more forceful smile broke on Jo’s face. “You’re not easy to ignore in this town, you know?”

“I’m just a writer.” Charlie stretched her legs under the table and her knee briefly touched Jo’s. “Bottom of the food chain in Hollywood.”

“Are you truly happy with what you’re doing here? Your life must be night and day compared to what it was in New York.” Under the table, Jo didn’t pull her leg away.

“It’s exciting and crazy, and takes a shitload of energy from me every single day,” Charlie replied.

“Always a master at dodging questions.” Jo tapped her calf against Charlie’s shin. “Are you happy?” she asked, again.

“I might be… if I can get Ava to talk to me again.”

Jo cocked her head, indicating she was not satisfied with that reply.

“And once we wrap filming and I start writing again.”

Jo exhaled a sigh of relief. “Hallelujah.” She continued to let her knee rest against Charlie. “I believe I know you pretty well, Charlie. And you were never happier than when you’d finished a productive writing day. Just you, your computer, the characters in your head, and a window to look out of.”

“And you coming home to me in the evening.” Charlie banged her knee playfully against Jo’s.

“For a while, that was enough.” A solemn expression took over her face. “Until Hollywood called.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“If you look at your watch one more time, I think it might disintegrate from your relentless woeful stares,” Liz said.

Charlie sighed. It had been ten days since she’d sent that video to Ava, and she still hadn’t heard anything back. Nick claimed he’d barely been able to get in touch with her, either. Ava and the
Knives Out
crew were due back in LA that day, and Charlie was worried.

“Still no news?” Liz asked.

“Nothing. It’s like she’s gone on a total social media hiatus as well. Nothing on Instagram or Pinterest. In this day and age…”

“It could just be that she’s licking her wounds.”

“Or sleeping with Eric Brunswick.”

Liz shook her head. “Not to throw salt in your wound, Charlotte, but I need to head home. It’s our wedding anniversary.”

“For real?” They’d gone for a quick drink after the day’s shoot had wrapped. “Then why are you sitting here with me?”

“I believe it’s called friendship.” Liz rose. “And Sarah had to work late.” She threw in a casual smile.

“Say hello to your better half from me. Tell her she put a ring on a good one.”

“Will do. What are you up to tonight?”

“Revise tomorrow’s scripts. Look at today’s rushes and make sure the dialogue flows well. Perhaps finally start plotting my next novel.”

“Don’t forget to relax, Charlie.” Liz squeezed her shoulder. “She’ll be in touch soon. I’m sure of it.”

Liz walked away. Charlie wasn’t so sure Liz was right. Ava had no reason to ever contact her again. Charlie had spent a lot of time putting herself in Ava’s shoes, and the conclusion had been evident. Still, now that Ava was headed back to LA—or was perhaps already here—a sparkle of hope stayed stubbornly lodged in the back of her brain. Nevertheless, a video could only accomplish so much. Perhaps a face-to-face meeting could kick-start… something. Though Charlie wasn’t sure what.

Charlie lost herself in daydreams and plans to somehow convince Ava that she’d been infinitely stupid to let Eric get under her skin, that she’d been cruel to not take Ava’s feelings into consideration more, and that she’d basically repeated all her past mistakes. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the grey BMW parked on her street.

She was already putting the key into the lock of her front door when the car registered as being the exact same make, model, and color as the one Ava drove. Charlie headed back onto the street to check the vehicle out again. As soon as her gaze landed on it, the door opened, and a leg appeared from the driver’s side. A long, long leg with an elegant foot shoed in a glossy black flat.

Charlie’s heart started drumming, the vibration creating a sizzle under her skin.

“Hey, you.” Ava stood three feet away from her. “I thought you’d never get home.”

Charlie smiled. Her heart beat so quickly, she feared it might burst out of her chest. Ava took a step closer, and Charlie blurted, “Most people call first these days.”

“What can I say?” Ava stepped closer still. “I guess I’m an old-fashioned girl.”

“Do you want to come in?” It was the polite thing to say.

Ava hoisted her bag over her shoulder and locked her car with the push of a button on the key fob. “I think that would be best.”

Charlie let them both in. Ava’s presence in her house was unsettling, but also energizing and nerve-wracking. “Glass of Pinot?” Charlie asked.

“Just water, please. I’m driving.” Ava looked around the living room as though it was the first time she set foot in the place. She’d only been to Charlie’s house twice before, and they hadn’t spent a lot of time discussing the interior design.

Charlie grabbed them a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and invited Ava to sit. As soon as she did, Ava opened her purse and unearthed her copy of
Crying Rivers
. With a dramatic bang, she deposited it on the coffee table between them.

Charlie stared at it, unsure of what was expected from her. She cut her eyes to Ava, who’d folded one leg over the other, looking incredibly delicious in jeans and a simple white T-shirt. It made a few of Charlie’s body parts ache.

“I want you to read it to me, Charlie. Here and now.” She pursed her lips for a moment. “I can’t make any promises as to what it will or will not result in, but I think it’s a good place to start.”

Charlie’s throat went dry. She reached for her water and took a few sips. She’d recited the words out loud, and by heart, for the video she sent Ava. There was no reason she couldn’t do it in the safety of her own home with Ava sitting directly across from her. Charlie forced herself to rise to the occasion and straightened her spine. “Okay.” She looked at the cover of her breakthrough novel. It was understated, unlike its contents, with a blue river winding its way up into a pinkbled sky, her name positioned at the bottom in big bulky letters. The title font was curvy and white. Such a simple cover for such a desperate book. The book that had fallen straight from Charlie’s heart onto the page. She hadn’t written anything of the sort since then. Soon after she’d finished
Crying Rivers
, she’d met Jo, and started on the
Underground
series. The rest was history. Maybe Jo had been right. Maybe Charlie had to confront all her fears, dashed hopes, and expectations on the page again. Maybe it was the only way.

Then she started. “When I re-emerged from the ashes of my former life and examined the scar on my hand, a remnant from when I had broken a wine glass out of pure rage after she left, and saw how it had healed itself through a magical process—a process called time—I knew this had happened to my heart as well. I realized that what I had so adamantly believed my heart to be incapable of, had in fact occurred—while I was unaware. While I was living. And this time, when I cried, it wasn’t a river, just a single tear sliding from the corner of my eye across my cheek, and it was born from a happiness I had been convinced I would be denied forever.”

As she spoke the last sentence, a tear dangled from Charlie’s eyelashes, and dripped onto her hands.

“I knew you could do it, Charlie. I knew when I wanted to read it for you that time in my house.”

Now that she’d read it out loud, and the emotions of the time when she’d written those words came over her again, Charlie couldn’t do anything but sit in her spot stiffly and let sadness wash over her. But inertia and self-pity weren’t going to get her Ava back.

“I’m sorry for what happened in Dallas. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have given in to my delusions. I should have been stronger. For you.” Charlie let the tears stream and didn’t bother wiping them from her cheeks. “You have no idea how sorry I am, Ava.”

“I think I do. But this isn’t about how sorry you are.” Ava unfolded her legs and crossed them at the ankle. She grabbed the book off the table and leafed through the pages with her thumb. “I asked you to stay, Charlie. Practically begged you. And you left, anyway. That’s twice now that you’ve discarded me to go and feel sorry for yourself. It doesn’t make for a very stable basis for any sort of relationship. Not friendship, and definitely not
more
than friendship.”

Charlie nodded. She understood, but more than that, now was the time to fight. Ava had come here when she could just as easily not have bothered. She must have some feelings left for Charlie.

“Some things have happened since I fled Dallas. I wouldn’t call it a breakdown, but it wasn’t far off either.” Charlie fixed her gaze on Ava. “I had a confrontation with my ex and a series of… I guess you could call them epiphanies.” The tears stopped leaking from Charlie’s eyes. “Meeting you and seeing Jo again has finally lifted that blanket of self-pity and fear I’d wrapped myself in. When I met you, I wasn’t ready. But I know I am now. Perhaps I don’t deserve another chance, but I think you should give me one, anyway.” Charlie pursed her lips into the start of a smile. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have even the slightest hint of desire to try again.”

Ava tipped her head to the side briefly. “These are all words, though. You can record me a video, even write me the most heartfelt letter. They would all just be words. Words I’ve heard before. What would truly change? Not just in word, but also in deed?”

“I’m going back to who I truly am. To what made me into the person I am today. A person with many faults, granted, but one with better qualities as well. I’m going back to the one thing on this planet that connects my heart, my true feelings, with everything and everyone around me. I’m going to start on my next novel.”

“The next volume in the
Underground
series?” Ava didn’t sound very impressed.

“No.” Charlie’s voice was loud and undeniable. “The next
Crying Rivers
.”

Ava narrowed her eyes. “What about the reason why you’re in Hollywood in the first place?”

“That’s not what will make me stay. You see, there’s this woman I can’t get out of my head. She’s gorgeous, and kind, and smart, and she believes in second
and
third chances.”

“Does she now?”

“I’m convinced she does.” Charlie allowed a full smile to break on her face. “I truly am.”

“Are you sure she’s not just a character you made up for one of your novels?”

Charlie shook her head. “No, but I am sure she’ll make an appearance in my next one. Based on a true character.”

“Does this ‘woman’ have any more good qualities?” Ava’s cheeks dimpled.

“She does, although she does have a questionable sense of humor. But she has great taste in real estate. She isn’t afraid to make a bold move. She’s also the most beautiful woman I, personally, have ever met in my life. And the things she can do with her fingers…”

Ava let out a chuckle. Charlie could tell she hadn’t meant to laugh like that.

“Most of all, though,” Charlie continued, “this woman knows compassion. And she isn’t afraid, like others, to follow her heart, no matter who it leads her to.”

“Is this woman about to stand up, ask the same of you, and kiss you?” Ava pushed herself out of the sofa.