Diamonds and Dreams

by Brenda Bone

  Within a week Lindsay had a story of her own to tell about the neighborhood Peeping Tom. She was awakened one moonlit night after she heard scraping noises outside her window. Rising from her bed, she summoned her courage and walked across the dark bedroom to peer from behind the sheer lace curtain. A dark figure must have spotted her, for almost immediately after she appeared at the window the shadowy form raced toward the street. She felt as if her nerves were tied up in knots as she glanced at the clock and saw that it wasn’t night at all, but four o’clock in the morning. The incident upset her too much to sleep, so she stayed awake until the first golden light of morning swept over the earth. When she heard a familiar “thud” against her front door, she knew that the paper boy dropped off the print edition of the morning newspaper. She was almost afraid to open the door to get it because she feared what she might find. At last, she gathered the strength and opened the door only to find dried rosebuds scattered across her welcome mat.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Desi has never been one of my favorite people, but I could kiss him for this!” Danielle told Lindsay as they sat in the front row of the Palace Theatre and waited for the lights to dim. “This Derek Eden concert sold out months ago, but Desi gave us tickets to the best seats in the house! And to think that you’ll introduce Derek—wow! Derek will have to notice you—hopefully, me too—for a few seconds of his famous life.”

  Lindsay shook her head in amusement. “Tonight you remind me of a teenybopper about to see her favorite singer.”

  “I can’t help it. Besides, I’m not alone. Look around at all the other dreamy-eyed women who are obviously counting the seconds until he walks out on stage. Aren’t you the least bit excited about being here?”

  “Sure,” Lindsay replied. “I simply have other things on my mind, like the prowler who dropped rosebuds on my doorstep.”

  “Didn’t you report the incident to the police?”

  “Yes, but they still have no other leads. Another thing that worried me is Brant. He hasn’t called me for weeks now.”

  “He’s probably been busy with his new job. If you don’t hear from him soon, it’ll be his loss more than yours. He’s giving up a great gal if he breaks up with you, and--” Danielle stopped talking suddenly and shot a glance toward an usher who peered around the stage curtain and motioned for Lindsay to use the side exit to join him. “It must be almost time! Good luck, Lindsay. If you pass Derek on your way back, will you give him this?”

  “What is it?” Lindsay accepted the wadded up piece of paper that Danielle handed her.

  “It’s my name and phone number. With any luck, he’ll think your name is Danielle, then he might call me later. You know you always have better luck attracting men than I do.”

  “What good would it do even if Derek got together with you later? He’ll notice right away that you’re a redhead, not the blonde that handed him the note. Then he could feel deceived.”

  “At least I’ll get to meet him. Oh, please, Lindsay, won’t you do it if you get the opportunity to slip the paper to him?”

  She sighed defeatedly. “I’ll try.”

  Her Gucci heels that matched her elegantly draped red dress clicked when Lindsay walked across the stage to the center where a giant spotlight shone down upon her and caused her blonde hair to look almost silver. A hush fell over the audience. She picked up the microphone and smiled before she said, “Ladies and gentlemen, WBKB and the Palace Theatre are proud to present to you tonight the most romantic singing star in the world—Derek Eden!”

  A roar of shouting and cheering rose from the excited women who anticipated seeing their favorite sex symbol strut out on stage. Just as Lindsay made her exit and was on her way back to her seat, the orchestra began playing action-packed music that seemed to amplify the heartbeats of Derek’s fans as the driving beat became intense, promising that something explosive was about to occur. When the screams from the audience grew so loud that it sounded like the ladies couldn’t bear another moment of suspense, the most attractive man Lindsay ever saw walked on stage so confidently that she wondered if even an earthquake could cause him to lose any of his smoothness.

  Looking at Derek’s dark wavy hair and sexy hazel eyes, Danielle grabbed Lindsay’s arm. “My eyes can’t take much more! He’s gorgeous!”

  Wearing a black tuxedo jacket and pants that overstated the definition of the word, “tight,” Derek plunged into a medley of his hit songs and often reached out to touch the hands of adoring fans that stretched their arms out to him. Women clapped or danced in place while he melted their hearts by finally shedding his jacket so they could have a better view of his almost perfect physique. Lindsay was one of the few women in the audience who sat quietly and smiled slightly instead of acting like an infatuated teenager that could no longer control her wild emotions.

  In a split second things changed. Derek stopped in front of her and reached out to take her soft, warm hand in his and hold it tightly as his husky voice broke into another song. Before she recovered from the shock that he noticed her, she allowed him to pull her on stage with him and was vaguely aware of the protests that erupted from the audience. Derek wrapped his arm around her waist and urged her to dance with him. Her hips swayed and she lost herself in the music and in the sight of Derek’s seductive moments as she forgot that several thousand people watched. Near the end of the song she and Derek kissed, and then rubbed noses before he whispered, “Meet me backstage.”

  His request numbed her senses and she felt like she was lost in a dream as he helped her off the stage and back to her seat. “Well, did you do it?” Danielle asked anxiously.

  “What?” Lindsay still felt dazzled, although somehow she managed to keep her composure, so her nervousness didn’t show.

  “Did you slip him the paper with my name and phone number on it?”

  Lindsay looked down and saw the note on the floor by her chair where she dropped it when Derek chose her to come on stage with him. “Oh, gosh, Danielle! I was so shook up that I forgot. Sorry!”

  “Never mind.” Her voice broke with disappointment, and then lightened up again when she remembered, “At least he liked you. Wow, Lindsay! I wish you could have seen the sparks that you and Derek threw off when you danced.”

  “I felt them. Do you know what else happened?” Lindsay leaned closer to Danielle so no one else could hear. “Derek asked me to meet him backstage later.”

  Danielle reached out and clutched the arms of her seat and looked like she might faint. “You’re kidding! You really do have all the luck.”

  “It might not be wise for me to take him up on his offer.”

  “What do you mean? You’ll be sorry if you don’t go meet him. How many times in life do you think opportunities like this present themselves?”

  “He may hope I’ll turn out to be a one-night stand. I don’t want that.”

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “Too bad I can’t think of a way to trade places with you. If it were me, I’d be waiting backstage now.”

  Lindsay debated what she should do until finally it was time for the end of the show. A flurry of hotel room keys and lacy bikini briefs went flying through the air and landed onstage at Derek’s feet as he said, “Thank you. You’ve been a wonderful audience. Goodnight.”

  “It’s time.” Envy coated Danielle’s voice. “How I wish I could be you…and in Derek’s bed tonight!”

  In the end, Lindsay wound up backstage and was astonished when a robust body guard standing by Derek’s dressing room door told her, “Wait here. He’s expecting you. He’ll be out shortly.”

  Her mind whirled from the knowledge that Derek must have pointed her out to this man who informed her that his name was Al. She sat on a wooden bench in the corridor and mentally rehearsed possible speeches she would make to let Derek know that she was not interested in sharing more than a cup of coffee or talking with him when Brant appeared around a corner.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, stunned to see h
im at the Palace.

  “I was in the audience tonight. You were really something else on stage.”

  She felt uncomfortable since she figured he could guess why she was backstage now. “You didn’t answer my question—why did you come tonight?”

  “I’m here to try to talk Derek into doing a radio interview for WQXL. I hope that you’re not here because Derek might have asked you to meet him backstage.”

  “What’s it to you if he did?” she snapped.

  “When a man like Derek Eden invites a woman to meet him after a show, he usually has only one thing on his mind.”

  “You’re a psychic now, Brant? Even if you turn out to be right, I can take care of myself.”

  “Can you really, Lindsay? I hope so. All I know is that I’d feel better if you’d forget meeting Derek and come with me instead.”

  Before Lindsay could say anything more, Derek opened the door, stepped out into the hall and spoke to her, but ignored Brant. “You came. I’m glad. My limo is waiting around back to take us to the suite of rooms I use during my stay in Columbus. My entourage that always travels with me is throwing a party there tonight.”

  Determined to speak with Derek, Brant trailed behind them. “Excuse me. I’m Brant--”

  Derek never faced him, but called over his shoulder, “Sorry, pal. We’re in a hurry. Please excuse us.”

  Lindsay glanced back and saw the puzzled expression on Brant’s face evolve into one of silent fury as he continued to follow them. “Wait a minute,” Brant urged. “Lindsay, can’t you--”

  “Beat it, Mister.” Al, the body guard with bulging biceps shoved Brant out of the way while Derek slipped his arm around Lindsay’s waist and left the building with her.

  It appeared to be a quiet night in the city with no sounds other than the almost relaxing hum of distant traffic disturbed only by occasional noises from blaring horns. The surrounding buildings were dark shadows and Lindsay assumed that most of the city already retired for the evening.

  Derek helped her into a silver stretch limo that was waiting near the sidewalk for them and Lindsay slid onto the plush leather seat. “Would you like a drink?” the singer offered, pointing at the small bar.

  “No, thank you.” All the things she planned on saying fled from her memory and for the first time in years, she felt tongue-tied.

  “Do you know why I chose you from the audience tonight?” Derek asked, putting his arm around her shoulders and causing her to become more uneasy.

  “No. Why?”

  “Every time I do a concert, it’s the same thing—thousands of screaming, hot-blooded women at my feet. When I’m on stage singing, I look out at the ones throwing their underpants and room keys at me, and I think how disgusting they are. They don’t know a thing about me personally, yet they make it clear that they’d jump at the chance to crawl into my bed. I spotted you immediately. Your sophistication and ladylike charm made you stand out from the rest. Seeing someone like you in the audience was like being overheated and feeling a refreshing cool breeze roll past.”

  “I’m not the type that’s interested in one-night stands, or in pretending that entertainers or athletes are idols, if that’s what you mean.”

  Derek smiled the famous lady-killing grin that placed him among the top ten sexiest men in America, according to a popular ladies’ magazine poll. “I’ve been around many people in my lifetime, and my experience is what allowed me to size you up right away. When I’m on a concert tour, it’s hard work and I lead a lonely life. Sometimes, like tonight, I wish I could find a woman to keep me company and treat me like a person instead of a sex god. I can get sex any time I want it from a woman and I enjoy it, but it’s not so easy for me to find someone who’ll look farther than my body or my money and be content with simply talking and listening.”

  “I understand,” Lindsay said, “and I think you and I will get along just fine tonight.”

  They did. For the next few hours, they dropped in on the party for Derek, but didn’t stay long. It was quieter in the elaborate room with a crystal chandelier and expensive ivory and red wall covering where Derek set up a temporary office. There they relaxed, sipped Dom Perignon, and talked about Derek’s career as well as Lindsay’s, their childhoods, their future goals, world affairs—any subject that popped up. He didn’t try to sleep with her and she appreciated the respect he offered her as much as he said he welcomed her pleasant company.

  Around one a.m. Derek kissed her on the cheek and told her he was glad to have met her, then Al drove her in the limousine back to the parking lot where she left her car. It wasn’t until after Al drove off and she was alone that Lindsay noticed someone had slashed her tires.

  Remembering that Brant had been furious when she left with Derek, she wondered if he might have committed the deed out of revenge. Then she reminded herself that there’d been many women who were jealous when Derek chose her to go on stage with him. Maybe one of them saw her step out of her car earlier that night before the show. She met Danielle in the lobby, so she’d been the only one in her car when she arrived. Lindsay wanted to believe that it was an envious fan, not Brant, who cut her tires, but as she walked across the empty lot to summon a taxi, she couldn’t push away the gnawing doubts she possessed about Brant.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When Brant didn’t call Lindsay, she refused to mope and agreed to have dinner with Tony D’Marco. As they sat in a quiet French restaurant and romantic music played softly, Lindsay thought how she and Tony were out of place among the other patrons—mostly couples, both young and old, who stared dreamily into each other’s eyes or leaned across the small tables with blue and white checked cloths to whisper secrets.

  “You’re playing with your food, Lindsay,” Tony observed. “What’s wrong? If you think it doesn’t look appetizing, I’ll ask a waiter to take it away and you can order something else. Or if you prefer, we can leave here and go to another restaurant.”

  “That’s not necessary. The food looks and smells delicious, but I don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

  He surprised her when he rudely reached across the table and took her plate. “Well, if you don’t want this, I’ll eat it.”

  “Go ahead,” she murmured, wishing that she’d stayed home instead of accepting Tony’s invitation. She realized he tried to be good company, but he wasn’t succeeding. Perhaps she was spoiled by having the pleasure of knowing how dynamic Brant could be, so she unfairly and subconsciously compared every man she knew with him.

  At the end of the evening when Tony walked her to her door, he didn’t ask if he could kiss her goodnight, but caught her off guard, pressing her tightly against his chest, then his mouth came crushing down on hers. Before she could shove him away, he exclaimed, “Wow, Lindsay! You’re not at all the ice lady that Brant said you were.”

  It took several seconds before the impact of his words hit her. She jerked out of Tony’s embrace, muttered that she had to go inside and left him outside. After he was gone, she sat cross-legged on the living room carpet and picked up one of the pillows off the sofa so she could throw it across the floor. How dare Brant talk about her behind her back! Did he really think she was an “ice lady,” as Tony said, or did Tony lie? Furious and hurt, yet determined to learn the truth, she rose and flipped on a brass desk lamp before she called Brant. She cared little that it was late and she’d probably wake him.

  “Hello?” he finally answered after the sixth ring.

  “It’s Lindsay. I want to talk to you.”

  “Now? In my sleep?” His voice was groggy and he didn’t bother to hide in his tone that he didn’t appreciate having his rest disturbed.

  “Tony D’Marco mentioned that you called me an ‘ice lady.’ Did you?”

  He paused, then tried to stall. “Can’t this conversation wait until another time?”

  “All I want you to do is to give me an honest answer, then I’ll let you go. Did you say that about me, Brant?”

  “I—er—y
es,” he finally admitted. “It’s not like it sounds, though.”

  Disappointment and hurt made her swallow the lump that seemed to be in her throat. “Don’t bother trying to gloss this over. After all, how many definitions can the words, ‘ice lady,’ have? I’m sure I didn’t misunderstand your meaning.”

  Brant sounded wide awake now. “Lindsay, don’t hang up yet! Let me explain. I only called you that because I wanted to protect you.”

  “By spreading ugly rumors about me? That kind of protection I don’t need.”

  “Listen to me before you get any angrier. Tony has a long history of pretending to be a perfect gentleman, tricking women into falling in love with him by being deceitfully kind, then ending an affair abruptly. He often takes pleasure in the pain he causes for the jilted woman. I heard him boast about how many hearts he broke already. My only motive for saying those things about you was to try to discourage Tony from wanting to make you his next victim. I don’t really think you’re cold, Lindsay. You’re the warmest person I ever met.”

  She knew she gambled as she tried to decide whether she could trust him, but she finally made up her mind to believe him. “I’m sorry I sounded bitter when I called,” she apologized, “but I wish you’d learn that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. If you’d ever accept this fact, then maybe we wouldn’t have so many misunderstandings.”

  Suddenly she remembered her tires that were slashed the night of the Derek Eden concert, and she wanted to ask Brant if he knew anything about that, but she hesitated. They started to get along better; there was no use in messing things up just when they began to fit together again.

  “If I explained myself well enough, may I go back to sleep now?” Brant asked, yawning.

  “Sure. I’m sorry I bothered you. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Lindsay. I’ll see you around.”

  Opening her mailbox the next morning, Lindsay pulled out a thick stack of mail and was pleased to find no junk mail or bills, only a postcard from her cousin. As she walked back inside the house, she looked forward to a relaxing afternoon reading before she was due to start her shift at the station. She poured a tall glass of iced tea. What was that on her floor? She knelt to look. It was a strange-looking envelope that appeared to have been crudely made from a brown grocery bag.