Diamonds and Dreams (27 page)

“
Me?”

“I
never dreamed he’d try to take his life.”
 
Derek sounded remorseful.
 
“Damn
it, Lindsay!
 
If I hadn’t started going out
with you, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“What
difference does it make that we went out together?
 
You aren’t making sense, Derek.
 
You mustn’t blame yourself for Marco’s
actions.”

“Don’t
you understand what I’m telling you?
 
Marco didn’t want me to become involved with you.
 
He became jealous and insecure when my
publicist urged me to keep dating you.”

His
words hit her like a bucket of cold water splashed on her face.
 
“You mean that you and Marco…?”

“Do
I have to paint you a picture, Lindsay?
 
Yes, we’re gay.
 
We’ve been
involved with one another for years.
 
He
couldn’t stand being thrust in the background recently.”

She
didn’t hear when Derek hung up because for the next several seconds she stood,
stunned, with the cold phone in her hand.
 
Her suspicions turned out to be correct.
 
Derek used her.
 
His publicist
probably told him that it would be better for his career if he pretended to
date her.
 
After all, his image was that
of a romantic ladies’ man, and if the truth of his true sexual preferences leaked
out, it would probably signal the end of his career.

But why
did Derek single me out?
she
wondered, wishing now
that he never noticed her.

Finally
laying down the phone, she sat down on the sofa just as her legs threatened to
collapse out from under her.
 
How many
other people knew that Derek used her as a cover to hide his intimate
relationship with Marco from the public?
 
She wondered how she could have been so naïve as to believe that Derek,
who lived in the fast lane, had been interested in her as a person.
 
If he’d tried to get her into his bed,
especially the night she met him backstage, she would have realized instantly
that he probably planned to take advantage of her.
 
He hoodwinked her into believing that he was
sincerely interested in her and that he respected her.
 
She trusted him enough to fall for his ploy.

That
evening, Lindsay turned her TV on to watch an Entertainment World program and
she couldn’t help recalling when Kelli Brendan spied on her and Derek in New
Orleans.
 
Derek had been eager for all
the publicity he could get with Lindsay, and this knowledge made her cringe
with embarrassment now that she knew he played her for a fool.
 
Kelli Brendan obviously discovered Derek’s
secret since Marco’s suicide attempt was her top story for the evening.
 
She showed several shots of Derek rushing to
Marco’s bedside and holding the hand of the gravely ill actor.
 
Lindsay could recognize the look of love in
Derek’s eyes as he peered down at Marco’s pale face.

She
felt dismayed to see her own image flash across the screen now as she looked at
a picture of Derek kissing her in New Orleans.
 
Kelli Brendan went on to identify Lindsay as “the woman in Derek Eden’s
life.”
 
There was more, but suddenly
Lindsay reached out and switched off the show.
 
She saw enough and so had the viewers all over the country.
 
Now everyone would know what she should have
been able to see before…that Derek ruthlessly used her to mask his relationship
with Marco.

Luckily,
the next day was Saturday, so she’d have the weekend to be alone before she had
to return to work and face the gossip.
 
The first faint rays of the red sunrise stretched over the city when she
was awakened by the insistent ringing of the doorbell.

Reluctantly
crawling out of her warm bed and reaching for her chenille robe, she called
out, “Just a minute!”

Padding
sleepily to the door, she opened it to find Bella Garrett standing there with a
knowing expression on her face.
 
“Good
morning, Lindsay.
 
I hope you don’t mind
me stopping by so early, but I’d like to ask you a few questions to get your
side of the story.”

“What
are you talking about, Bella?” Lindsay asked nervously.

“Oh,
come now.
 
You don’t need to pretend
innocence with me.
 
I’ve been on this
story about Derek Eden and Marco Moore for months, but I needed proof of my
suspicions.
 
Now I have it, but it’s only
fair to present your side to the public, even though you’re not as well-known
as Derek and Marco.”

Anger
flared inside Lindsay as she realized that Bella delved into this matter the
night she met her at Derek’s party.
 
This is what the two women in the powder
room must have discussed,
she thought.
 

“I
hope Marco recovers, but other than that, I have no comment,” Lindsay said
firmly.

“Wait
a minute!
 
I’m sure you’d like to stay
out of this scandal, but it’s a little late for that.
 
Marco left a note in which he blamed you for
taking Derek away from him, or didn’t you hear about that yet?”

Lindsay
braced herself in the doorway while dizziness spread over her.
 
She needed to remain calm and get rid of this
woman.
 
“Actually, Bella, I heard no such
thing, but naturally rumors run rampant during sad circumstances like
these.
 
I really have nothing more to
say.
 
Please excuse me.”
 
She pushed the door shut, leaving Bella on
the other side, and wondered why each day seemed to turn out to be worse than
the one before lately.

Arriving
at the station early the next morning, Lindsay browsed through the small stack
of mail piled neatly on her desk.
 
There
were the usual letters from listeners who enjoyed her program, and occasionally
she came across a minor complaint or suggestion as to how she could improve her
show.
 
One letter, however, was unlike
all the rest because it contained honest criticism based on an acute observation
on the part of the listener.
 
Many people
would have been upset and ripped the letter but Lindsay was intrigued and read
more.

“You
seem to have your act together so much that it isn’t credible,” a woman
wrote.
 
“Others might think you’re almost
perfect, but I’m one listener who’s not fooled by the way you pretend to be
overly enthusiastic about doing your show.”

In
the beginning Lindsay felt genuinely excited about her new job, but lately she
merely pretended as the writer pointed out; it was true.
 
Success came rather easily for Lindsay in New
York.
 
As much as she hated to admit it,
the glamour of her job faded, only to be replaced by nagging doubts.
 
Did she make a major mistake in leaving
Columbus—and Brant—after all?

At
home that night she sorted through the day’s mail which consisted mostly of
bills or ads.
 
Spotting her mother’s
large, flowing handwriting on one envelope, she pulled out the letter that was
enclosed and began reading.
 
All that her
mother said about her new job was that she was “glad things are going well in
New York.”
 
Lindsay felt disappointed
that her mother didn’t take a more personal interest in her career now and she
had to admit to herself that an unexpected visit from her parents would lift
her spirits.
 
Yet they never volunteered
to come visit her.
 
They seemed to be
more content since they moved to Florida where they hoped to leave their sad
memories behind in Ohio.
 
She realized
that it must be difficult for them every time they looked at her to be reminded
again of Constance as the resemblance was remarkable between the sisters.
 
Didn’t they know, or care, that she couldn’t
help it if they thought of Constance when they looked at her?
 
Even her parents seemed to slip away from
her.
 
Except for her work, Lindsay
couldn’t think of one thing in life that she had to look forward to in the
immediate future.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

“Who
ended the relationship you had with Derek Eden—you or him?”

“How
do you feel about everything that happened recently, Miss Blair?”

“Do
you resent Derek because he used you?”

“Were
you aware of Derek Eden’s involvement with Marco Moore while you dated Derek?”

Voices
shouted these questions at Lindsay as she walked out of the radio station and
the smell of car exhaust systems tainted the air.
 
Why didn’t she have the foresight to guess
there might be reporters waiting for her to leave the building?
 
Biting her lip and frowning, she refused to
answer their questions.
 
“Let me through,
please.”
 
She pushed her way past the
group of reporters and photographers.

Cameras
flashed around her.
 
She hated publicity
of this type, and ever since the scandal erupted over Marco and Derek,
persistent reporters and photographers barged into her life, making it
miserable.

As
she tried to escape the uproar, she heard a familiar voice call out her name
and she froze.
 
Glancing over her
shoulder, she spotted one of the last people she wanted to see at the
moment—Frank Thomas.
 
Approaching her, he
took her arm and led her to his car that was parked nearby before he snapped,
“We can’t have this, Lindsay.
 
It doesn’t
look good to have all of these hungry gossip hounds hanging around my station.”

Sitting
on the comfortable leather front seat of his Cadillac, she avoided looking
directly at his face.
 
“I’m sorry, but I
can’t help it that they insist on harassing me.
 
You don’t think I want them here, do you?”

His
steel gray eyes, the same shade as his hair, narrowed and he scowled.
 
“Regardless of whether you want them here or
not, it’s your fault that they’re a problem.
 
I can order them to leave or call the police, but it’s your
responsibility to get rid of them and prevent them from dragging your name
through the mud any more than they already have.
 
Ugly scenes like this are bad for your image
as a radio personality.”

He
pulled up to the curb and dropped her off in front of her car.
 
“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“See
that I don’t have to do it again,” he said gruffly.

On
her way home she silently reprimanded herself for the hundredth time for not
seeing the light sooner about Derek.
 
Now
her job seemed to be in jeopardy even though she did nothing wrong.

The
next week brought more invasions of her privacy and more hassles from the
media.
 
Lindsay felt as if she were on a
Ferris wheel that went round and round, never stopping at the bottom so she
could step off it.
 
No longer did her new
life in New York feel thrilling.
 
She
envisioned a fresh start, a promising career, new friends, but now she felt as
if the new world she entered crumbled around her.
 
There was no one whom she met that she became
close to yet and now her job was in danger as well as her reputation.

Mornings
were the worst.
 
She once loved mornings,
but lately she felt sluggish and unenthusiastic about going to her job.
 
When she started working at WCIT, she
entertained high expectations that she’d be such a good host that she’d make a
difference at the radio station.
 
Did she
leave her mark?
 
She couldn’t be sure,
but ever since the messy scandal spilled out about Derek, she thought, why
bother?

Fearing
that she might be on the verge of a case of career burnout, she vowed to spend
more time relaxing at home.
 
Yet she
discovered that she had a hard time being alone, too.
 
Wherever she went, whatever she did, she felt
disappointed as if someone slipped up behind her and crushed every dream she
ever had.

The
following Sunday afternoon Lindsay felt at an all-time low, worrying that her
job was no longer secure and neither was her inner peace.
 
When she heard a knock and opened the door to
see Brant standing in front of her, she feared that her imagination had
conjured him up.
 
“I read about the
scandal you’re caught in, and I thought you might need a friend,” he told her.

“Oh,
I do!”
 
She fell into his arms and
embraced him.
 
For the first time in days
she smiled.
 
“You’ll never know how much
your friendly face means to me at this moment!”