Page 22 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Margot

WEDDING OF THE CENTURY! FORMER POP SENSATION KALLISTA TO MARRY STAR ATHLETE BOYFRIEND: DETAILS TO FOLLOW

It’s been a year since Kallista’s final concert on Cristal. That show was supposed to mark the end of her galaxy-wide tour, and had it not been for her bodyguard, Xavian, she would have been killed. Hundreds were injured thanks to General Atraxis’s attack on the venue. And Kallista’s pop star rival, Lacie, was sent off to one of the prison planets to live out the rest of her days behind bars for collaborating with the general.

It was a shit show, and this past year saw Kallista retire, thrive with much-needed therapy, and get engaged to her former bodyguard.

And as for me, her manager and best friend?

I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching. Trying to, at least. Had I been a good manager, Kallista—Emily to her friends and family—wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place. And had I been a better friend, I wouldn’t have tried to keep her and Xavian apart, contracts be damned. Yes, she’s forgiven me and we’re in a better place now, but it doesn’t matter what she says. I’m going to be carrying the guilt with me for a long, long time.

Scrammer jets whizz past Em’s apartment windows as her holodeck, the device she’s been reading article after article on, beeps obnoxiously. She crosses one leg over the other as she sinks into the sofa, while I pace in front of the window, sipping my third cup of tea.

“Calling it the ‘wedding of the century’ is a bit of a stretch, considering the princess of Latrixia got married two months ago,” Emily mutters under her breath.

I stop pacing to stand directly in front of her, but she doesn’t even notice me. On her holodeck, the headline and its flashing neon bylines hover two inches in front of her face until I wave my hand through it, dismissing the feed.

“Sweetie, I love you, but you need to program your deck so the feed’s at least eight inches from your face. You’ll ruin your eyesight,” I chastise her gently.

Emily squints over the top of her deck’s rim and gives me “the look” that says we’re about to get into it for the tenth time this morning. She and I always argue, but we also always make up. We’ve always had a sisterly thing going, ever since we were kids living down the street from one another on Luna, Terra’s moon colony. Despite our bickering, we always end up on the same team at the end of the day.

We’re opposites in so many ways, right down to our looks. While she’s a natural brunette and pale, I’m all olive tones. My eyes are chestnut brown, and my hair’s so jet black that when it hits the light at the right time of day, it almost looks blue. Emily talked me into letting it grow out from the severe bob I wore for years … and so far, I don’t hate it.People have told me I look “softer.”

Softer. Turns out, looking approachable actually helps with wooing new clients into my database, so I suppose I’ll keep the length.

“Yes, mom,” Emily says with an eyeroll, then gets up to make her way for the bathroom. She’s been sitting around in a robe since her shower three hours ago. She might not be touring as Kallista anymore, but she has yet to retreat from the public eye entirely. When she announced her retirement from pop stardom earlier this year, the entire universe grieved.

Except for me.

Another thing I feel guilty about, because I actually feel … relieved. Yes, that means I’m technically no longer her manager and therefore missing a huge chunk of my income—I’ve had other clients here and there to pay the bills, but nothing long lasting. Still, being Kal’s manager for the past several years has been an honor, but it also put a huge strain on our relationship. We drifted apart when we used to be each other’s only family.

Okay, so, “drifting apart” is being too gracious. I swore up and down I was going to start being more honest with myself, so I’ll be real, here. I was toxic as fuck.

I’m working on it. But all work worth doing takes time, and Em and I still have a few loose ends to wrap up before she and her fiancé can run off on their honeymoon to make love on a secluded beach planet somewhere.

“Margot, have you seen my new necklace? The one I picked up from that boutique on Cristal?” she calls from the other room.

The memory of stuffing her tiny necklace into my handbag surfaces, and I reach for it to look for the locket. But just as I find the necklace tucked away in one of the pockets, my holodeck, still attached to the side of my face, vibrates to life. A neon number flickers in front of my eyes, and I let out a soft groan.

“Who is it?” Kal yells from the bathroom.

I wave my hand through the number, dismissing it just as Kallista steps into the room. She lifts an accusatory brow.

“Margot. Who was that?” she asks.

I shake my head, and my soft waves bounce on my shoulders. “No one. It was no one important. Spam.”

But Emily isn’t stupid. She knows she’s caught me in a lie. Because the number on my screen was from someone important. Important to Emily and Xavian, that is. What the Gorcian, Aiken, and I have? Well, it’s nothing serious. Just a silly little flirtation, nothing else. Curiosity fueled by lust. A distraction from the misery of the past year. And I’d like to keep it that way.

Emily shrugs as she makes her way over to me, then plucks the necklace from my palm. I didn’t realize I was holding it in the air this whole time.

“Thanks,” she says. “And whatever you say. But if you’re hooking up with someone, you know you don’t have to be embarrassed, right?”

Easy for her to say. Her fiancé is over six feet tall, Terran, and absolutely gorgeous with his long, blond mane and baby blue gaze that could steal the breath from your lungs. Aiken is … well, he’s your typical Gorcian. He’s tall too, of course, but he also looks like a cross between a linebacker and a beetle. Broad shoulders. Hard carapace. Small eyes, but I’ll be honest—I never look at them. Not when he’s got those shoulders and thick, plated abs upon abs to stare at. Just thinking about them makes my inner thighs twitch. For fuck’s sake, girl, get it together.

Another secret I’ll take with me to the grave? Sometimes when I lie awake at night, instead of scrolling through my holodeck like a normal person, I fantasize about those abs and what could be lingering underneath that thick carapace. I’ve never slept with a Gorcian, and they’re notoriously private, so I can’t even look up pics or videos on the internet to sate my curiosity.

“Margot.” Emily’s voice yanks me free of my perverted thoughts, and I look up to find her staring at me.

I wince. “You’ve been calling my name for a while, haven’t you?”

Emily nods but, to my surprise, doesn’t tease me like she normally would, thank goodness. Lying to her feels gross. I don’t want to have to keep doing it. “It’s okay. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately, being my wedding planner and all,” she says, then sucks her bottom lip into her teeth.

“It hasn’t been that difficult, honestly. It’s finding time to schedule your appearances at the stadium in between dress fittings that’s the biggest pain in the ass.”

Em, predictably, rolls her eyes. Xavian is the star player of his Terra Ball team, the Luna Lionfish, and Kallista tries to show up to every. Single. Game. Which would be commendable if not for the fact that we’ve got a wedding to plan and Xavian plays four games a week.

She winces. “I’m sorry. I know, I know. Less time at the stadium, more time at the boutiques. I promise,” she says, then quickly pecks me on the cheek before flouncing off down the hallway.

“Don’t forget, you have dinner tonight with Xavian at six, and then you have a spa treatment at L’Floria at nine!” I yell.

Even though I’m no longer her official manager, I still can’t seem to let go of the position. Oh, well. It’s a calling I take seriously, and nothing—and I do mean nothing—could ever come between us.

Not again. Not if I can help it.