Solar Storm (Galaxy Mavericks Book 5) Read online

“Why the hell wouldn't I?” he asked. “You think I can just walk away after all we've been through?”

  “Stop raising your voice,” she said. “You're making a scene.”

  “Josie, there's no one here!” he said. “In case you haven't noticed, I'm fighting for you.”

  She folded her arms.

  “What?” he asked.

  She turned around and looked at him.

  Her face was a blur of skin and teeth. It swirled around and around.

  Was a face supposed to look this way? It wasn't how he remembered it, but he couldn't remember what it should have looked like.

  “I don't love you, Gino.”

  The words hit him hard.

  “You don't…but…I—”

  “I never loved you.”

  He spoke, but his voice was soft and weak.

  “You never felt anything for me these past five years?”

  Her swirling face revolved into something that resembled a smile.

  “No.”

  He exhaled.

  “I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have strung you along. Things with you…were so nice. You took care of me. And I will always appreciate that. But I've got to follow my own dreams now.”

  He stared ahead. He swallowed a knob in his throat. He pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. There was a seal at the top, a logo of an Earthlike planet with two golden rings around it.

  “I signed up for the Galactic Guard,” he said.

  “Then maybe you should go,” she said. “It'll be good for you.”

  “I decided not to go,” he said. “I just didn't know what to do after last week, when you—”

  “Don't talk about it,” she said, lowering her head.

  “You drove me into the fucking Galactic Guard, babe.”

  “Me? I didn't drive you to do anything. Don't be such an asshole.”

  He ripped up the paper and let the scraps fall to the floor.

  “I couldn't do it,” he said. “I couldn't leave you. I got in my corsair and I flew all the way to Provenance. I was in the planet’s orbit when I realized I couldn't do it. I couldn't turn my back on you. On us. On everything we built together. So I came back to try to convince you that you can't, either. You're telling me you can just throw all of this away?”

  She said nothing.

  He threw his head back and closed his eyes, sighing long and loud.

  “Why don't you love me?” he asked.

  “Don't be unfair. If I don't go to the Orion Galaxy for this show—”

  “Come on—you're choosing acting over me? Really? After all I've done to support you?”

  “I got asked to audition for a part. A lead role.”

  He didn't want to think about everything he'd known about show business so far. The long nights with boisterous people, some of whom he was convinced were trying to sleep with her. But he never questioned it, always supported her. Paid a lot of money for her to travel to auditions even though his general manager job at the restaurant didn't make him much.

  “You want to try out for some show. Fine. I just don't understand why that means you have to cut me loose. We were supposed to be on this journey together, babe.”

  The rail car approached the spaceport and an intercom chimed.

  “Approaching Traverse Station.”

  “It's over, Gino,” she said.

  He stood and grabbed her suitcase, but she took it from him.

  As the rail car slid into the track at the spaceport, she primped her hair and wiped her eyes.

  “What else can I say or do?” he asked. “Is there someone else? Is there—”

  “You sound so pathetic,” she said. “Please know that it's not you.”

  “It's someone else, then,” he said. “It's someone else. Goddammit, it really is someone else.”

  She touched his shoulder but didn't confirm or deny.

  “I need more than you can give.”

  “What could it possibly be?” he yelled.

  The rail car doors opened and she backed out.

  “I just don't see myself as Mrs. Josie Mariano. I'm sorry.”

  She blew him a kiss and waved. Then she turned around and hurried into the vaulted spaceport, mixing in with a crowd of people.

  He started for her, but she quickened her pace, falling in line on an escalator that led outside toward the box ship.

  He ran through the crowd.

  “Jos!” he yelled. “You can't do this! You can't!”

  He stopped at a window.

  The escalator fed outside into the warm night, into the airlock of the box ship.

  Josie stood on the escalator, walking quickly past others who were standing on it, waiting patiently.

  He put his fingers on the glass.

  She turned around and looked back. She saw him in the window.

  He was crying.

  Tears in his eyes like a damned baby.

  He rested his forehead against the cold glass as she entered the ship’s airlock.

  He watched as the rest of the passengers streamed into the airlock. The ship activated its thrusters, launching into the sky at twice the speed of sound. He didn't believe it would go. He didn't believe it could disappear, but when it twinkled out of the atmosphere, and a cold hard rain began to fall across the spaceport field, across the other ships lined up for transport, and on the circular drone bots marshaling the spaceships into position, he knew it was truly over.

  He fell to his knees.

  She was gone.

  Forever.

  He refused to leave.

  Maybe she'd get halfway to wherever the hell she was going and she'd have the same epiphany as him. She'd fly back and she'd approach him, her hair dripping in the rain. And they'd be together.

  He was prepared to forgive her.

  He would always forgive her.

  But the ship did not come back.

  To think, he could have been on Provenance right now. In boot camp.

  He fell asleep on a row of leather seats, waiting for her to come back.

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, he awoke to the sound of sirens.

  People were screaming.

  He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He had slept a rough, dreamless sleep.

  And then he saw it.

  In the sky, above the spaceport—white ships. Hundreds of white ships. War ships, shaped like rectangular cartridges. They covered the entire sky.

  “We’re under attack!” someone cried.

  He stumbled out of the seat, banged his knees on the ground.

  He knew those ships anywhere.

  The real word was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t recall it.

  The…Federation?

  Next to him, he sensed sparking.

  Lightning struck from the ceiling, causing a flash of sparks. He shielded his face.

  Sparks? Lightning indoors?

  His head hurt.

  The sirens blared again and he ran.

  He jumped over a stone railing and landed on the escalator.

  The same escalator that had taken his love away from him.

  It led outside, where the ships loomed bigger than ever.

  Where was he going to go?

  The worst place to be was on the rail car.

  He didn’t think. He just ran. Followed the crowd of people scattering across the field.

  One of the ships began to glow.

  The screaming intensified.

  “They’re powering up a bomb,” someone said.

  He stopped in his tracks and looked up at the glowing ship.

  And then his heart sank.

  He wasn’t going to escape.

  When the first bomb fell, and a sonic flash ripped across the spaceport field, he put his hands in front of his face and closed his eyes.

  18

  The floor moved underneath him.

  He turned in his chair as a metal platform underneath him revolved and the space station restaurant brought him into view of Trave
rse II, a breathtaking maroon planet. He sipped a gin and tonic and watched the planet spin slowly.

  Across the restaurant, all heads turned to observe the planet.

  “It’s beautiful,” a voice said.

  Josie.

  She sat across from him. Half of her filet mignon was eaten; her fork and knife lay criss-crossed on the plate. Her face was a swirl, but he didn’t mind.

  “I told you it was awesome,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  He grinned and sipped his drink again.

  It was the grand opening of the Café di Galassia, the first planet-side restaurant on Traverse II. Handmade pasta and fine Italian dining in space. He’d had to bribe his buddy, the incoming sous chef, for two tickets to the opening. He’d had to borrow a suit and tie from his cousin—his uniforms from work were too restauranty and maître d for an occasion like this.

  He played with his black tie and adjusted his tie clip.

  “These kinds of cafes are very popular in the galaxy,” he said. “I never knew why something like this didn’t take off sooner here on Traverse.”

  “I don’t know,” Josie said, gazing out the window.

  He grabbed her hand.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded and smiled.

  “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a planet up close before,” he said, chuckling.

  “I love it,” she said. Her tone was flat and it disturbed him. “But, Gino, how much did you pay for this?”

  “Bill hasn’t come yet.”

  “There weren’t any prices on the menu. Did you ask your friend Jackie how much the plates were?”

  “Doesn’t matter, baby.”

  She looked away.

  “I bring you to the best restaurant in the galaxy, and you can’t have a good time?” he said. “What’s the matter with you? Is it the food?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s…just a lot of money, Gino. We could be using this for other things, you know?”

  He rubbed her hand. Sure, it was hard to make rent in their tiny pod with her not working, but he didn’t care.

  “I know. But I had to take your mind off the show.”

  “I don’t want to talk about the show,” she said.

  “I know you really wanted that part,” he said. “And they were absolute bastards to turn you down for it. Could have been your big break, babe. If they can’t see your talent, then they’re blind and you don’t need ‘em.”

  He laughed again.

  “When we hit it big, we’re gonna be eating at places like this all the time,” he said.

  “What do you mean we?”

  He shrank back and his smile faded. “Well, I mean, when you get bigger parts maybe they’ll take me on in a restaurant like this. Probably pays double what I’m making back home.”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  A waiter came to the table and refilled their water glasses.

  When Josie wasn’t looking, Gino winked at him and the waiter nodded and walked away.

  “It would be pretty cool to restaurant hop,” he said, “Go from planet to planet, eating planet-side.”

  “Yeah,” she said again.

  “Listen,” he said. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About the future. About us. With you going off to the Orion Galaxy for this new show and all, I…”

  “We’ve talked about it,” she said.

  “I know,” he said. “But I can’t live apart. I just can’t do it, babe. I need you.”

  She looked at him directly, her swirling face on the verge of a cry.

  “I don’t care what it takes,” he said. “I can find a job anywhere, you know? Besides, I don’t have any family here anymore. There’s nothing on Traverse for me. And when I look at your career, I know you’re bound to make it someday as an actress. Me, I never cared much for careers. I don’t care what we have to sacrifice. I’m in this together with you. Always and forever.”

  He pushed out his chair.

  Nearby, the duo of violins began to play a song.

  Their song. “Making the Right Move” from Swing Out Sister.

  Josie gasped.

  “That’s our song,” she said.

  As the violins swelled, he dropped to one knee. The waiter returned with a tray; this time, on it rested a golden jewelry box.

  Gino smiled as he took the box and then he opened it, revealing a diamond ring.

  “Baby, I’m ready for this crazy journey if you are.”

  She gasped again.

  “Gino,” she said.

  “I don’t care what we have to do,” he said. “We’ll get through it. But I’m not leaving this restaurant without this ring on your finger.”

  “Gino.”

  “Already quit my job. We can get the hell out of here tomorrow.”

  “Gino,” Josie said. “This is—”

  “I found a couple of places we can stay. There's this smoky little planet right in the middle of the galaxy, and its about a thirty-minute shuttle ride to the local theater district, too—”

  “Gino, this is ridiculous!”

  The word took him aback.

  “Babe, what do you mean?” he asked. “What is ridiculous?”

  “If you would stop talking for once and let me speak, I would tell you,” she said. She wiped away a tear. “Gino, I don’t want to marry you. I don’t love you.”

  The entire restaurant stopped and stared at them.

  “What do you mean you don’t love me?” he asked. “Then what have we been doing these last five years?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  She grabbed her purse and walked away, dabbing her face with a napkin.

  He stayed on the floor. He didn’t know how to process it.

  He couldn’t stop replaying that word in his head.

  Ridiculous.

  Ridiculous.

  Ridiculous.

  Outside, lightning struck and the stars began to spark. He squinted at the sparks, trying to figure them out. Lightning in space…

  His head hurt.

  He glanced across the restaurant. All the diners’ faces were swirls. The dining resumed, and the violin duo averted their gaze from him and played another song.

  He threw the box down to the floor. Then he sat, his back against his chair, and he buried his head in his hands.

  19

  “Sir, please accept our deepest apologies for the shell in your crab salad,” Gino said.

  He clasped his hands together and bent over, bowing in apology to a table where a portly man in a blue sport coat clenched a knife and fork angrily.

  The entire restaurant was looking at him. A car horn blared outside and a semi truck breezed by, shaking the windows.

  “I paid a lot of money to come to your little restaurant,” the man said. His face was red. “And I didn't come here to eat shells!”

  “We’re very sorry,” Gino said.

  “Who are you?” the man asked.

  “My name is Gino Mariano and I'm the manager here. Trust that your meal is on us. We've got a new cook and—”

  “So I'm paying for his training, eh?”

  “Her training, sir.”

  Across the restaurant, through the service window, a female cook with a handkerchief on her head leaned against the wall with her arms folded as the chef pointed and yelled at her.

  “She's already been reprimanded, sir,” Gino said.

  “Well, I want a free meal!” the man cried.

  Gino tried not to roll his eyes. “Of course. We would be happy to comp your meal.”

  “And I want coupons!” the man said.

  “I have a coupon that I can give you,” Gino said. “Half off your next appetizer.”

  “What about drinks?”

  “No coupons for that, I can offer you and your lovely wife a glass of our house wine.”

  The man settled in his chair.

  “Now that'
s service. I'm still leaving you bastards a bad review online. What if I had cut myself? I could be in the hospital right now. I've got grandchildren and my life insurance isn't much, you know.”

  “Ah. Well, Mr. Palmer, I'll be back with your wine and your coupon.”

  “Yeah, and hurry up!”

  He gritted his teeth as he walked to the front of the house.

  A waiter grabbed him.

  “You handled that really well, Gino.”

  Gino puffed. “What an asshole.”

  The waiter balanced a tray of soda glasses.

  “What are the chances he posts a bad review?” the waiter asked.

  “Let him,” Gino said. “We can't win every customer.”

  The swinging door to the kitchen opened and the chef stormed out. He wore a black uniform with gold buttons, and he had olive-colored skin and a goatee.

  “Gino!”

  “What?” Gino asked.

  “What's this I hear about you offering free meals, drinks, and coupons?”

  “Whoa,” Gino said, raising his shoulders. “Were you there? Did you hear that asshole talk to me?”

  “Comp his meal, not give him the whole restaurant,” the chef said.

  “You're the one telling me you want good reviews,” Gino said. “And when I try to do damage control, all of a sudden you don't want me to do squat.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” Gino asked.

  “This is the fifth coupon you've given out this week.”

  “Oh! Do you seriously think I'm the problem?” Gino pointed to the service window. “You need to hire better cooks. I'm the one paying for their mistakes.”

  “You need to make do with what we've got,” the chef said. “Human-waiter restaurants aren't as popular as they used to be, and you better remember that.”

  “You're telling me to be grateful?” Gino asked. “You legitimately think that I woke up this morning and thanked my lucky stars that I get to come into work, get chewed a second asshole by jerks, and then sit here and take this shit from you, pal?”

  “You better.”

  “How about you go eat a dick, buddy. Put that on one of your eighty dollar plates, with a cauli-fucking-flower purée. It would still taste better than the shit you serve here. I've had it.”

  The chef flushed.

  “You're fired.”

  “You can't fire me. I quit. Give me my paycheck.”