by Brenda Bone
Hearing the doorbell peal, she grabbed her matching leather purse and went to welcome Brant, who’d changed into brown slacks and a natural-toned sport shirt. “Would you like to come in and sit down a while before we go?”
“Sit down?” he repeated, looking at the cream-colored living room that was in a jumbled state of disarray. Newspapers and magazines were scattered on one end of the brown leather sofa while a pile of freshly laundered towels waiting to be folded occupied the other end. Her computer tablet, an e-reader, new outfits she hadn’t had time to put away and other personal items lay in the almond chair beside the sofa. “Where?”
Quickly gathering the bundle of fluffy towels, she deposited them in a corner of the earth-toned carpet. “Here, smartie!”
“My goodness!” Brant raised one hand to his head. “How can someone so neat in appearance be so untidy at home?”
“You know what long hours I work. I rarely have time for housework. Anyway, perfectly clean houses make me nervous.”
“I’m starving, so if you’re ready, we might as well leave now.”
“All right.” She stepped outside, and he followed, but then he stopped abruptly on the small front porch where the fragrance of nearby pink roses clung to the air.
“Hey! You forgot to lock your door.”
“I never lock the doors.”
Brant grimaced. Was she so naïve and trusting that she paid little attention to the basics of self-preservation? An urge to protect her rose inside him and he spoke sharply. “More than half of the people I talk to have been victimized by some sort of robbery or theft. And you haven’t ever worried that sometime you might return to find a dangerous character inside your house?”
“I’m not a negative thinker like you must be.”
He laughed cynically. “Go back and lock your door.”
“Okay, if it makes you feel better.”
“It would.”
Tucked away in historic German Village, the Spanish restaurant, Barcelona, boasted both metropolitan chic and Old World European charm. Over a hundred years old, the brick building’s best secret was a hidden garden where sweet-scented flowers, tinkling fountains, round tables with blue umbrellas and lovely ironwork railings made Lindsay feel like she’d time-traveled to the real Spain far across the sea. Inside the original tin ceiling revealed a couple layers of paint. She nearly tripped on the uneven, wooden floor, but steadied herself as she passed the oak bar and admired stained glass windows cut into full brick walls.
“The Spanish night lies before us,” Brant said, helping her to slide into her chair after the hostess seated them at a quiet table in the corner. A waiter took their order, then brought their drinks. Sipping a tall glass of iced tea, Lindsay announced, “We need to discuss our working relationship.”
He nodded. “As you wish, my dear. I’d hoped for a little small talk…getting to know you better, but I see you have other things on your mind. Business, as usual.”
“Since we’ll spend much time together in the future, we should make a few compromises and strive for better cooperation with each other.”
“You want a fresh start? I’ll try if you will. Arguing has always struck me as a terrible waste of time and energy.”
She smiled. “I didn’t think it would be so easy to convince you to accept my idea.”
“Are you hinting that I’m difficult to get along with?”
“A little.”
Instead of offending him, her honesty amused Brant. At least here was one woman who voiced an honest opinion without concern for the impression she made upon him instead of flattering him to gain his favor as so many other females tried to do in the past.
Soon the waiter arrived with Filete a la Parilla – grilled beef filet, local potato hash, crispy onions and sweet corn coulis. “Delicious,” she said after a few bites of her beef filet.
Brant was unusually quiet as he studied Lindsay. She didn’t appear to be the type of person to hold a grudge. He was aware that he hurt her feelings this afternoon, but now there was no indication of this in her serene manner.
“If I appeared rude at the pool today, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.” He felt uncomfortable and ashamed that he reprimanded her when there was a slight chance that her only concern had been for his safety. “You see, every time I’m near water the painful memories about Dan have a way of rushing back and this affects my mood, usually making me disagreeable.”
“I understand. Years ago I, too, suffered from the loss of a loved one. The pain never really disappears.”
She was right. He didn’t expect her to be so easy to talk to and gracious. Her thoughts seemed almost attuned to his; it was amazing.
After finishing dessert—a slice of sourdough bread pan fried in extra virgin olive oil and topped with bittersweet chocolate, then finished with a little julienned Fuji apple—Brant left a generous tip on the table, then escorted Lindsay outside. “It seems a shame to end this delightful interlude just when we started to make peace.” His words held a tone of genuine sincerity.
“We could take in a movie at the Palace Theatre.” She forgot her earlier plans to keep her distance from him.
“I thought the Palace was only used for stage shows and operas since it’s been restored.”
“Mostly it is, but classic movies are also shown there.”
“What’s playing today?” he inquired.
“An old Humphrey Bogart film. Would you like to go?”
He looked sideways at her and forced the corner of his mouth to twitch. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
“Bravo!” She clapped her hands as he held the car door open for her and she slid onto her seat. “You sounded just like Bogart. I see you have other talents besides radio.”
“Yes, and I’d love to show you all of them sometime.”
Lindsay chatted easily with Brant as they drove toward West Broad Street where the ornately decorated Palace Theatre was located in the tall Leveque Tower. After parking his Jaguar in an adjoining lot, Brant led Lindsay into the Palace’s mezzanine salon where she waited as he purchased tickets. A statue of a girl drinking from a shell graced an elaborate fountain that trickled with water and the expression of the lass’ stone face smiled almost knowingly at Lindsay.
“Want some popcorn or a soft drink?” Brant asked when he returned.
“No, thanks.”
He offered his arm to her. “Then come, my queen.”
Arm-in-arm, they strolled toward the regal sweep of the grand white statuary marble staircase carpeted in a rich red tone. When they reached the upper promenade, Lindsay paused to admire the fabulous art treasures that hung on the walls. Built during the Great Depression, the spacious Palace had been created to fulfill the public’s yearning for fantasy and illusion.
“Choose your throne, fair lady.” Brant pointed at the many rows of plush seats.
“Let’s sit on the balcony.”
“As you wish, your majesty.”
“You’d better stop teasing me,” she scolded gently. “People are starting to stare.”
“Let them.” He climbed the steps behind her. “They’re probably envious since I’m with the most beautiful woman in Columbus.”
He thinks I’m beautiful! Pleased, Lindsay exhilarated over his comment that left her with a new boost of confidence. Sitting down, she gazed intently at the huge, main ceiling chandelier, affectionately known as “Romulus.” Sparkling strands of crystal fanned out from the center and draped gracefully surrounding the sconces.
Noticing the object of her attention, Brant, too, looked up at the masterpiece. “It’s exquisite, isn’t it? I read in one of the programs the usher handed out that the frame weight is approximately 450 pounds with 1,250 pounds of crystal.”
“Wow!” She was awed by the Palace’s magnificent luxury. “I love this place. No matter how many times I visit here, I always see something different which I never noticed previously. Sometimes I wish I could live here and have the Palace all to myself.”
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“Ha!” He covered her hand with his. “You’d probably have this place looking like a disaster within a week. You’re not exactly the world’s best housekeeper.”
She giggled. “Right. It’s probably better if I just come here as a guest and someone else cleans the Palace.”
The lights grew dimmer as darkness gradually invaded the area. Slowly the curtain opened and the show began as music filled the theatre. Soon Brant and Lindsay, like two teenagers on their first date, turned their attention from the screen to each other. In the shadows she saw the hard line of his jaw, the chiseled features of his lean face and the flashing eyes that glistened like the mien of an animal at night. It seemed only natural when Brant closed the distance between them by placing his warm lips over her mouth while she savored the sweet taste of his kiss that sent her senses reeling. A peculiar, but pleasant aura of contentment, of being totally aware of her fabulous surroundings, and of the wonderful man beside her, settled over Lindsay like a glorious sunset.
“This is insanity!” she whispered. “You and I could become enemies soon and…”
He squeezed her hand. “Weren’t you ever taught that we should love our enemies?”
She didn’t reply, but leaned back in her seat while she pretended to have a renewed interest in the movie. Never in her life had she felt so confused by a kiss. Later, as they stepped out into the brilliant early evening sunlight that irritated her eyes and made her squint, her heart still beat wildly. Riding in Brant’s car, she noticed that their small talk faded into silence as she suspected that he, like she, tried to sort out the new feelings which ignited between them.
“Did you ever hear what Elizabeth Barrett Browning once said about, ‘Colors seen by candlelight not looking the same by day?’” she asked, and he shook his head. “I wonder if we allowed the romantic atmosphere of the Palace to cloud our perspective and influence us to imagine that there’s more to our relationship than what’s actually there.”
“No, Lindsay.”
Some mysterious, invisible force compelled her to start looking at Brant as a man that she respected and admired instead of simply the person with whom she was forced to work. Brant’s only excuse for kissing her was that, like a potent drug, her beauty combined with a serenity that he didn’t understand, affected him, causing him to let his guard down. What surprised him and left him puzzled was that, although he’d kissed many lovely women in the past, it had never been so electrifying as when he tenderly claimed Lindsay’s soft lips. The intimate gesture left him feeling like an inexperienced schoolboy who shyly stole a kiss from his best girl, yet at the same time, she summoned every ounce of his masculinity.
“What are you thinking?” he inquired, suddenly wanting to know everything about her.
“Oh, nothing.”
Angry at himself now for expecting her to share her thoughts with him, he wondered what got into him to experience these delicate feelings much like the ones he vowed in the past that he’d avoid. Lindsay was right to discourage him from knowing more about her. It would be unwise to become close to her, the woman who’d probably like nothing better than to see him lose his job. If he told her everything about himself, wouldn’t he hand her ammunition that she could use against him?
When they arrived at Lindsay’s house, he parked the Jaguar, but left the motor running. “I’m sorry about what happened between us,” he began. “I never meant to kiss you.”
His words unleashed sudden hurt inside her, gripping her heart. He sounded remorseful of what she thought was a precious moment to cherish always. Although she felt baffled by the strong emotions which erupted between them, she wasn’t sorry she responded to his kiss. Evidently, he wished nothing of this nature had occurred between them, and this knowledge left her stunned with embarrassment.
Reaching for the car door before he had a chance to get out and open it for her, she forced herself to speak calmly and casually. “Sometimes things like that just happen. They mean nothing, right? Thanks for a lovely time. See you later tonight at the station. Goodbye.”
Watching him wave as he drove off, she blinked back tears. In the future, she’d remember to make a special effort to confine their relationship to professional matters. Never again would she give him another chance to humiliate her!
That night they’d been on the air about twenty minutes when Lindsay announced the latest gossip in the music industry. She was caught off guard when Brant suddenly changed the direction of the conversation.
“Whoa, Lindsay. Slow down. You talk 50% faster than I can listen.”
That’s not true! What kind of a game is he playing with me now? she wondered. “I hope you aren’t implying that I’m a chatterbox.”
“Why would I think that? Because you returned from a day at the beach with a sunburned tongue? Or because you always get the last word in, even with an echo?”
She clenched her jaw and shook her fist at him, but he only grinned. Brant was the one who turned into a great talker when he was on the air, yet he knew how to make her look like the motor mouth. Well, she’d show him that she could handle the heat!
“Excuse me, Brant, while I go get another cup of coffee. I need to steady my nerves before I take another look at that wild tropical print shirt you’re wearing.”
His expression changed into surprise as he looked down at his shirt. “Gee, Lindsay, I wore this shirt to impress you. I figured you’d like it since it’s loud. Don’t you?”
“Well—it looks better without my glasses.” She took off the stylish pair of silver wire-framed glasses she only wore for reading small print as in their scripts. They weren’t using scripts now. She wasn’t sure she liked the impromptu personal banter that Brant tossed at her.
“Friends, so far I’m batting zero with my beautiful partner,” Brant said. “If anyone has suggestions or can help me convince Lindsay to go on a date with me, I’d love to hear from you.”
Almost immediately all the phone lines started flashing. Lindsay was confused. Did he really want to go out with her? If so, then why did he regret kissing her?
It was easy to see that Brant enjoyed himself as he started talking with callers on the air. “Hi. Can you think of a good reason why Lindsay should go out with me?” he asked the first caller who was a female.
“Sure. You have a sexy voice. Besides, you sound like a nice guy. Lindsay, give him a break!”
She gulped. Already he won listeners over to his side. She felt as if she accidentally painted herself into a corner. Quickly she scrawled a note that read, I DON’T THINK THIS IS FUNNY, and handed it to Brant while a second caller pleaded his case for him. Brant took the pencil out of her hand and wrote, THE AUDIENCE IS PARTICIPATING AND ENJOYING PLAYING CUPID. BE A GOOD SPORT. She shot him an “I’ll get you back for this” glance and was relieved when soon it was time for the local news.
When she and Brant could take a short break, she reprimanded him for putting her on the spot. “I hate working without a script. And why are you so intent on besting me? We’re supposed to work together.”
“Why are you upset? Our listeners responded favorably to my approach.”
“You’re a sneaky one, Brant Diamond, but I know what you’re up to. I wouldn’t go along with your plan to pose as a couple, so you decided to find another way to achieve the same type of results by pretending to pursue me.”
“Who said I’m pretending?”
She didn’t reply, but instead pointed out, “Do you realize what you’ve done? Now people will pay close attention, expecting to watch a romance blossom between you and me.”
“You’re right. And you wouldn’t want to disappoint our fans, would you?” Forgetting that he vowed not to get involved with her, he winked at her before he left.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rain drummed viciously against the large window as Lindsay stood several days later in WBKB’s spacious lobby and gazed at the thick clouds which hung like a dull gray blanket pulled over the sky. The wet drops spattered on the
glass and caused the buildings across the street along with the slowly moving traffic to appear blurred.
“The rain doesn’t seem like it’ll ever stop, does it?” came a husky voice from behind her.
Turning, she saw Tony D’Marco, the congenial sportscaster at WBKB. He wasn’t very tall, but he was handsome with his thick, wavy black hair, dark brown eyes, patrician nose and a mouth that normally wore a smile. Dressed in a navy blazer with a white turtle neck knit shirt and gray trousers, he resembled a professional male model.
“How are you, Tony?”
“Fine, but I’d be better if you’d agree to go out for lunch with me, Lindsay. That is, if you don’t mind getting drenched.”
“I love to walk in the rain,” she said, “but I--”
“Lindsay needs to look over a few papers, so I can discuss them with her shortly,” Brant cut her off.
She hadn’t seen him standing behind them and she wondered why he chose to be irritable by interrupting her conversation with Tony. Seeing the resentful expression on Brant’s face, she pondered the possibility that he might be jealous. The look of moodiness disappeared quickly, though.
“Well, Lindsay, since you’re busy now, maybe we can go to lunch another time.” Tony started to walk away.