Falling Star by Diana Dempsey Read Free Book Online

"You're always so upbeat, so
positive." His hand dropped to his lap. "You probably never feel
unappreciated."
    At that, a bitter laugh gurgled in her
throat. After the day she'd had. After he'd walked out on her. "Who
isn't appreciating you, Miles?"
    "Oh, the network, mostly. The executives, the
suits." He shook his head, as though it were all more than he
should have to bear. "It never changes. They just don't understand
the creative side."
    "Are you having problems with the show?" Forget Maui , the sitcom was called. Miles had told her it'd
taken him years to write the pilot script. His baby, he'd called
it.
    The irony was that, not long after he'd
walked out on her, he'd sold the script in an enormous deal that
had gotten massive coverage in the trades. It had been huge,
inescapable news: Miles Lambert to Helm New Series of His Own
Creation . Of course she'd read all about it. And every word had
felt like a slap in her own face. All of a sudden the man who'd
just unloaded her was at the pinnacle of his career.
    "No, no problems with the show," Miles said.
"But still, everybody wants to put their own stamp on it." He
snorted.
    She regarded him silently. It was a good
twenty years since Miles's first success—a humungous blockbuster of
a success—one that had catapulted him and his writing partner into
the top echelon of sitcom producers. It was while he was still
riding that wave that they'd met and married. Everything about
Miles had been intoxicating then, and yet reassuring, because he'd
seemed so solid, so dependable.
    But afterward had come the drought. Miles
unable to write, unable to "find his muse," he told her. Or writing
pilot scripts that never sold. Or that sold but never got made.
Never earning more than a tiny fraction of what he'd made in the
past. Natalie had been his constant cheerleader, not to mention
financial support. When he broke off with his writing partner. When
he was hurt and angry after his partner scored a second hit, on his
own, while Miles continued to languish.
    She was jolted back to the present by Miles's
fingers on the engagement ring he had given her years before,
twisting it so the stone would face the correct way, diamond
up.
    "Your ring," he said. His eyes were so dark
she couldn't see the pupils. "You're still wearing it."
    Yes. But backward. Because I can't quite take
it off.
    "You remember the day I gave it to you?" he
asked.
    How could any woman forget? They'd been
walking on the beach in Malibu. It was late afternoon, in June,
exactly a dozen years ago. A chill off the ocean was making her
shiver. He'd taken off his jacket and laid it over her shoulders,
then hugged her close. Will you make me the happiest man in the
world? he'd whispered. Will you be my wife? She'd burst
into tears and he'd pulled the ring from his pocket, an exquisite
pear-shaped stone on a platinum band.
    Natalie stared down at her ring. Then up at
her husband. "I do remember."
    "I miss you," he whispered. He leaned forward
and kissed her.
    She didn't back away, though part of her
screamed to. Another part, warmed by his lips, felt the old
familiar tug, as though he were on one end of an invisible string
and she on the other. Is this real? Can I trust you?
    Then he leaned back against the sofa
cushions, slowly thumping one with his hand. "Remember Frank?" He
raised his eyes to meet her own. "My roommate from college?"
    She nodded, her lips still tingling from his
kiss. Frank, from Haverford. Became a tax lawyer. Yes.
    "He died last week." Miles shook his head.
"Heart attack. He was younger than me."
    "I'm sorry." She was puzzled. It was years
since Miles had spoken to Frank, let alone seen him.
    "Made me think, Natalie." Again he met her
eyes. "About the mistakes I've made. About what little time I may
have to make up for them."
    Slowly, without looking away, he removed the
brandy snifter from her hand. Again he kissed her, gently, his
mouth covering hers with the warm possessiveness she remembered so
well. He