Page 128 of Until the Last Star Fades

Riley beamed. Ben, I frickin’ LOVE you! I so wanted to ask for a photo.

“Christ, remember the photos we took during drama school? The London Dungeon costumes…?” Mark slipped out of the booth and offered Alex his hand so she could exit easily with her purse and shopping bag from Duane Reade.

“That tourist attraction? You acted there?” asked Riley.

“Yeah, we played historical Londoners.” Ben nodded at Mark. “Jack the Ripper here begged me to join him.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Tough crowd, long days—bloody hot, too! At least we had a laugh together, scaring tourists.”

“I didn’t know you played Jack the Ripper, Mark!” Alex giggled.

“With Keegs’ charisma? He KILLED it, geddit?”

“Ben!” “Oh, God!” His friends groaned.

He nudged his hair from his eyes. “I was hoping to play Guy Fawkes, Henry VIII—someone awesome—but nope. I was a jester and the plague doctor.”

Mark snickered. “Ben spent most of his first term at Guildhall washing off fake blood and puss.”

“Eww!” Riley and Alex cringed with laughter. “That’s just gross!”

“I’d keep those photos under lock and key, Keegs. They’ll be worth a mint one day.” Ben winked. “Riles, use your phone? Mine’s cracked to fuck.”

The four of them gathered around the edge of the table and Ben took several selfies. Mark adjusted his hat back down over his eyes and hugged Riley. “Be sure to text me those, ’kay?”

“Stay in touch.” Alex embraced Riley, too. “We have to hang out when I’m back in the spring.”

This is surreal. “For sure.” Riley picked up Ben’s sandwich box and caught a glimpse inside Alex’s small plastic bag. Packages of Twizzlers?!

The two couples headed outside into the bright sunlight on Third Avenue. Mark promptly put on his shades and nodded at a discreetly idling SUV. “All the best for Tuesday, yeah? Riley, make sure this one behaves.” Mark snickered, smacking Ben’s hand and pulling him in for a one-armed hug. “Ben Fagan, liver donor—never in my wildest.” Mark gave Ben a squeeze and let him go. “I’m proud of you, mate.”

Ben responded with a tight-lipped smile.

The famous actor and his playwright girlfriend climbed into the SUV’s back seat and waved from the window, driving north through the Friday afternoon traffic.

Riley stood slack-jawed. “You forgot your lunch on purpose, right?”

Ben hugged his helmet and twisted slightly back and forth. “Got you here, though, didn’t it?”

“Did that…really just happen?”

“The look on your face…bloody priceless!” Ben leaned in to kiss her, but Riley’s phone went off in her hand.

She reluctantly pulled away and handed Ben his sandwiches. “Sorry, could be Mom…oh, Casey. Just let me…hel—”

“OH. MY. GOD.” Casey’s shouting made her wince. “RILEY! HE WASN’T LYING!”

“Case?”

“I was SO wrong about Ben. I’m texting you. Take a look—call me RIGHT BACK!”

Riley lowered her phone. A screenshot appeared by text, then another. The first was a shot from Mark Keegan’s Instagram, a photo of Maggie’s crowdfunding page with a caption saying: Please spread the word and help my friend if you can. Much love, Mark xo

The second image was Mark’s Instagram bio with a link so his fans could donate directly to Maggie’s campaign.

“Oh my God. Mark’s sharing Mom’s…” Riley jabbed at her phone, opening up the crowdfunding page. Scrolling, scrolling…

A slow smile crept across Ben’s face.