Falling Like Stars Page 2

  Chen listened to the summary of his adult life with a twinge of pride and only a smidge of regret. He had accomplished everything he’d set out to. Still, he wanted more. He smirked at Tate. “Don’t leave out the best part. We both know why you’re really here.”

  Tate chuckled. “Twenty-five hours.”

  “Twenty-five hours,” he echoed. The number that defined him. “Twenty-five hours in space, with seventeen orbits around the earth.”

  “Must have been incredible.”

  It had been, and in ways he couldn’t express well enough to someone who hadn’t been to space. “It changed me,” Chen replied honestly.

  Tate nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I’m sure you looked into OrbitAll after I reached out to you. We’re a private space company like the other guys, but we’re different in our mission. We truly want to democratize short-duration space travel, not just have it be an excursion option for the super wealthy. Does that make sense?”

  Chen nodded. He understood most of the words, and he definitely appreciated the sentiment.

  Arriving with the wine, the server poured them each a generous glass while Chen vibrated in suspense. “Tell me all about it.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “I want to know everything.”

  Tate filled him in about the history of the company he ran with his brother. Their space tourism program had been in research and development for more than a decade. The spaceplane was designed and built. Acreage was purchased, runways laid, and a hangar built to house the spacecraft and the aircraft that helped it get off the ground. A schedule was drafted with the first commercial spaceflight set two years out. Simulations and test flights were underway. So far, tests had run smoothly.

  “What we need now are people to finalize and differentiate our program,” Tate explained. He levelled his clear blue gaze at Chen. “Like a chief test pilot. Ours just left us for another company closer to his family. I searched all over the planet for the perfect replacement. I think I found him.”

  He’d known the ask was coming, but Chen’s heart still launched into a rapid frenzy at the words. He’d be working again, doing what he loved. He’d get another chance at space.

  Tate slid the envelope across the table. “I know how engineers are. All the details, and I mean all the details, about the spaceplane are in here. Please think about joining us. I can offer you a two-year contract and we can go from there.”

  “I don’t need to think about it. I’m in.” Chen couldn’t keep his leg from bouncing.

  Tate grinned. “Just like that?”

  Chen wanted out of China. It wasn’t just the heat he found oppressive. Rent climbed every year. His parents were in debt from the fines related to the accidental birth of his sister and her subsequent heart surgeries. The demand that he find a “nice Chinese girl” to marry came daily, as did the photos of eligible women his mother showed him from her endless network of acquaintances. The fact that Chen owed his family his future meant he wanted them out of his present. He’d been born selfish like that. He’d do the right thing, as an eldest son would, but he wanted to live his own life in the meantime.

  He missed wide open spaces and a sky full of stars. He missed making his own choices, like he’d been able to do in France and Hong Kong. He missed abandon. Freedom.

  Any route there, even a temporary one, he’d take it.

  3

  Elle’s day typically ended an hour or two after the last guest checked in. She liked to make sure they were delighted with their rooms and on to a fabulous meal or fun activity before she left for the staff side of the island.

  It was nearly nine o’clock and she was still sitting in her office. She didn’t know how, since Tommy Fines had a private jet, but he had arrived late. He was finally checking into his room. Elle was positive something wouldn’t be to his liking, and she didn’t want anyone to have to deal with it but herself.

  A light knock on her door was followed by the dapper figure of Miles Marston, a gray-haired English butler who managed the resort staff. “He’s arrived,” he announced in his crisp accent. “He knows that the bed wasn’t removed with the rest of the furniture. He would like that oversight remedied.”

  “The mattress was replaced. How can he possibly have a problem with that gorgeous bed? It was built by hand from native trees.”

  Miles didn’t reply. He knew the question was rhetorical.

  Elle sighed. “Thank you, Miles. I’ll speak with him.”

  “Swing by the greenhouse. He wants three bouquets of freshly cut roses. Yellow this time.”

  Elle handled the roses that were as prickly as the guest himself. At least she’d been able to convince him not to remove the bed. After dealing with Tommy, she’d had to stop at her office for her bags, so it was nearly eleven when she reached the docks. The ride to her place was quick. An exchange of pleasantries in Maori was the only conversation she had with the boat’s pilot. Back on her side of the island, she wandered up the dock and through the jungle to the soundtrack of singing insects. Small solar-powered lanterns lit the way. As the trees parted, she saw a blaze of lights ahead.

  She paused on the path, frowning. She hadn’t left the lights on. More curious than concerned, she climbed the steps next to the infinity pool she never had time to enjoy.

  A man sat on the couch on her plant-filled lanai. A handsome one with dress shoes and no socks, an interesting choice in swampy heat. He rose to greet her, but Elle beat him to pleasantries.

  “Well, this has been an interesting night. Tatum Geier, am I right?” She’d researched their new guest with Yua. His startling eyes and perfect face would be impossible to forget. They hadn’t found much more than his work history. For someone from such a famous family, the man was strangely elusive. “Can’t say that I’ve ever found a random well-dressed man on my lanai before. Is the universe granting wishes now?”

  He chuckled. “I hope so. I’ve probably got enough wishes for us both. Call me Tate.”

  Elle took a seat opposite him, dropping her bags to the ground and crossing one ankle over the other in the most ladylike way she could in such a snug skirt. He lowered himself back down, still smiling.

  “What can I do for you, Tate?”

  He slid a business card to her on the stone table between them. Elle didn’t pick it up. Professionally, she knew everything there was to know about this guy. After a long stint in his family’s liquor division, he’d branched off with his eldest brother to start a space tourism company, of all things. His brother, Mattias, was a frequent guest on the island. Still, she hadn’t the faintest idea why Tate wanted to meet with her.

  “First of all, let’s establish that Miles, the butler, knows I’m here. I promise I’ve got no nefarious reason for approaching you like this. I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to track you down at the resort all week.”

  “Is there a problem with your villa? Anything we’re missing from our itinerary that you’d like to see?”

  His clear eyes expressed astonishment. “I’m intruding in your personal space and you’re concerned with guest satisfaction?”

  “Huh.” His comfort had been her first priority. That probably revealed something alarming about her sense of self-preservation.

  He looked her up and down, but not in a hungry way. He shook his head as if trying to figure her out. “My brother speaks very highly of this island.”

  She knew Mattias well. Or knew of him. She knew the standards and preferences of he and his wife, Pia, since they were regular visitors. “I’m glad to hear it.” She worked very hard to make sure people like Mattias Geier enjoyed their vacations. But that did not explain why Tate had sweet-talked his way on to her lanai. “What do you need?”

  His radiant smile returned. He was much handsomer than his brother, or anyone whom she’d ever met. Tommy Fines included. Hell of a lot nicer, too. “You.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

  “This island, this resort, is about as good as it gets on Earth.�
�� He pointed upward, and Elle followed the direction of his finger with her eyes. Sparkling stars and a gibbous moon filled the sky. “But space has always been the most sought-after destination. At OrbitAll, we’re making space tourism a reality. Our first commercial flight is scheduled two years from now.”

  She felt breathless. She knew the days of regular people in space were coming, but so soon? “And?”

  He brought his gaze back down to earth. To Elle. “And we want the trip to be a hospitality experience unlike any other. We want to find ways that not just the flight but every moment with us changes lives. I think you’re the person to help us create that kind of experience.”

  “Really?” Her stomach tumbled. She had years’ worth of ideas left for the resort. Still, a whole new company, a whole new industry, was a tantalizing idea. She could be the groundbreaker in a whole new field of experiential planning. “I don’t know the first thing about space travel.”

  “Neither did I.” He leaned back, eyes drifting skyward again as if by habit. “But you feel it, right? The magic in the idea?”

  Elle smiled when his gaze met hers. She’d always felt the magic in the stars.

  He nodded. “That’s what I thought. I have an incredible team ready to help you learn. What do you say, Elle? Is there any way I can convince you to leave this island?”

  The tiniest hint of insecurity had slipped into his expression. Tate only saw paradise. He couldn’t know she’d already been feeling the pull toward home.

  “Well, I do have a monkey problem.”

  He chuckled. “Wait, really?”

  Elle didn’t reply. Her mind was already sprinting through space. Tate had handed her an opportunity unlike any that had ever existed.

  “Elle.”

  She snapped back to reality. “Yes. Sorry.”

  “You’re shaking. Are you okay?”

  He was right. Adrenaline had kicked in. “Better than okay. Where? When?”

  He smiled. “California desert. A town called Victory. The when is as soon as you can join us.”

  Home. Or close enough.

  “Our budget likely isn’t as limitless as William Markham’s,” he continued, “but we’ve got the backing of the family business. We can probably accomplish your vision, whatever it may be.”

  Elle leaned back against the fabric of the couch and exhaled. Was it time to move on? Move back? And possibly up? “Tell me about your company, the team, the location. I need you to woo me some more. Professionally, of course.”

  Tate sank deeper into the cushions and spread his arms over the back of the couch in a mark of total confidence. “How about over a drink? Professionally, of course.”

  She believed he meant it. He hadn’t so much as glanced at her boobs or lips, her best features. “Good idea.” She rose to get them each a glass of the custom scotch she had Scotland’s oldest distillery make for island guests. Tate was in the same relaxed position when she returned with tumblers. She handed his over.

  “Thank you.” He tipped the glass toward her. “Dare I say cheers to our new venture?”

  “Sounds like you just did.” She took a deep drink and deeper breath, then set her glass next to the business card on the table between them. She looked at the card for the first time, her heart squeezing as she read. It wasn’t his card. It was hers.

  Smooth to the touch, the navy-blue card held a star-sprinkled logo in one corner and read, Elle Shirley, Director of Experience in clean white lettering. She already had an email address. She found that extension of faith deeply touching and had to blink away tears.

  Tate must have been watching her face. “A title more fitting of your role, I hope. I don’t think anyone would build our program better than you can.”

  She had no right to keep Tate guessing about her decision when he was this open with her, when he had traveled across the world to make her an offer like this one.

  “Tate, I’m your girl.”

  4

  Chen’s good mood from his meeting with Tate Geier lasted all week. They’d talked through lunch and into dinner, and not just about the program or the job. About life. He’d made a friend on top of a boss, or whatever Tate would be considered once Chen landed in California.

  Truthfully, not much kept him from being happy. Chen had viewed the earth from the outside. He’d witnessed firsthand how starkly alone they were, how precious and precarious their situation in the universe. Their beautiful, wild world shouldn’t exist. Everything had been against life, and yet life had persisted. Chen moved through the world with awe, even when life was hard.

  Like now. His parents were going to be relieved to hear he’d be working again. They needed money just as badly as they needed to tell their relatives and friends that their son had been offered a job in the States. The Chinese space agency cutting him loose had brought nothing but silence from his parents, an indication of the shame they felt. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he’d saved the last mission from utter failure, saving his own life in the process. But when that mission had been over, the space agency had informed him that his time with them had ended. Their engineering roster had been full, or so they’d said.

  He didn’t blame his parents for the shame. He felt the stain, too. And despite the tight reins, Chen was fond of his parents. He appreciated the symmetry in caring for the generation who’d raised him. He understood that everything he had, and everything he had accomplished, had been built on the sacrifices and successes of those who had come before. Caring for his family was how he would contribute to his own legacy. Still, he rebelled against the expectation. He’d tasted freedom, love, and warmth in other places, with other people. Those were hard flavors to forget.

  This new job would suit them all. Chen would escape, get back in the cockpit, maybe get to see space again. His new job would gain prestige in his parents’ retelling. By the time the news traveled through their circle, Chen would be running his own space company instead of just operating the spacecraft.

  His sister would be less thrilled about him leaving. Xiaoming, being seven years younger, had always relied on Chen for entertainment. As children, it had been simple games and stories. As adults, when he was home, he took her shopping or to the cinema. She loved American films, romantic comedies especially. He gave his parents a break by taking her to doctor or therapy appointments. They were numerous, as she’d been born with a heart defect that led to a cardiac event where her heart had stopped, which in turn had affected her brain.

  She didn’t speak much. The doctors told them she would mentally always be a child. Her life was a lonely one, another circumstance that added to Chen’s guilt. He’d spent most of the past eight years away from home, places where she couldn’t follow. But his wild years were coming to an end. At thirty-three, he’d have to settle down soon to take care of his family. That’s how it worked. This final gig would be one of many lasts.

  He waited to tell his family until all the arrangements were finalized. He’d received an email the day before from OrbitAll about his temporary visa, along with housing and flight information. Tate admitted they’d started the process before he’d even spoken to Chen. He had to admire the man’s confidence.

  He rolled off the faded couch just after dawn the following Saturday and folded his blanket. He shoved it and his pillow under the couch so the room would look presentable when his parents joined him. His dad appeared first, shuffling toward the kitchen in slippers to make tea. “Good morning, baba,” he said to his father.

  Not chatty as a general rule, his father patted him on the back as he passed by. Chen followed, switching on the small TV near the kitchen table so his dad could watch news while he drank his tea. Chen let him finish one cup in silence and catch all the breaking headlines of the day. He refilled his dad’s cup but held on to it as he sat back down at the small, rickety table.

  “Baba, I have news.”

  His father peered at him over the thin wire-frame glasses perched on his nose, the same glass
es he’d had most of Chen’s life. He wore the same sweater, too, made of thick wool that added bulk to his thin frame. “You’ve heard from your colonel.”

  The deepest wish of both his parents’ hearts, he was sure. His colonel from the Air Force had also been his commanding officer at the space agency. His parents would take either of those options over Chen’s continued unemployment. No, he hadn’t heard from Colonel Zhang, also known as his friend Fei, though a call to the man was forthcoming since Chen had landed a job unlike any his Air Force crew had heard of.

  “No. I’ve been offered a job elsewhere. Still flying, but an entirely new role in the States. California.”

  “Is that allowed?”

  An expected nonreaction. Chen had been traveling out of China since the day he was old enough to do so. His home wasn’t any of the random apartments he’d lived in or even where his family gathered—where the heart was, as the saying went. Chen’s home was a roaring cockpit. His home was the sky.

  “I’m not in the military anymore, baba. The Americans have taken care of the rest.”

  His father nodded. “Your mother will need breakfast before she hears that you’re leaving again.”

  Chen wanted to know what his father thought about his only son moving half a world away yet again. He didn’t ask, and his father would never tell. He was a mild, stoic man who did right by his family. Chen couldn’t want more in a father, but sometimes he did. He craved the openness he found with his friends around the world, the instant, deep connection born of an understanding of the collective life they were living. But his friends were all astronauts and pilots, people who had the same perspective Chen did. His father was raised in a quiet, closed society and acted accordingly.

  They finished their tea in silence.

  His mother joined a little while later. He preferred his mother in the mornings, before nervous energy overtook her body. Chen exited his chair so she could sit. “Good boy,” she said in Cantonese, patting his arm. “Will you see if your sister is awake?”