Read Can't Help Falling in Love Online
Authors: David W. Menefee,Carol Dunitz
Finally, Alan had to continue on despite the spirited shouting and applause.
Allison knew that she had her moment of glory, and she was considerate enough
of the proceedings to selflessly step away so that the awards presentation
could continue.
Wilkins nudged
Walker
and said, “Now.”
“Our last award,” Alan announced, “is for Rookie of the Year. Nominees are
Janice Jennings and Sharon Eaton.”
Sharon
took a deep breath. Seeing that her path
to the lectern was blocked by a horde of people she did not know, she began
taking a step forward as Alan opened the final envelope.
“And the winner is Janice Jennings . . . .”
Janice screamed in excited animation.
“. . .
for
her Ace Department Store campaign!”
Sharon
thought she had not heard right and shot
a stung glare at Alan that would have bested Julius Caesar upon seeing Brutus
lunge at him with his knife. Suddenly, Wilkins reached through the crowd and
grabbed her arm.
Sharon
swung around doubly shocked as her heel
caught again in her ruffle bottom dress. She screamed, lost her footing, began
to topple backward and grabbed at one of the fichus trees, but the potted plant
instantly snapped in half. She plunged over the edge of the pool and hit the
water with an enormous splash that splattered a wave six feet into the air and
doused nearly everyone nearby.
As she sank beneath the water, photographers swung around and scrambled
poolside to snap pictures of her. She momentarily resurfaced from directly
under
one of the floral bouquets, but unfortunately, the
roses were on top of her head and the drenched greenery draped over each side
of her face like hound dog ears. She spewed a stream of water from her mouth
just as the humiliating moment was instantly recorded by all seven cameramen.
“Don’t just stand there!”
Sharon
bellowed at Guido before sinking again.
They saw nothing on the surface of the water but bubbles, but then she broke
through for another second, screaming and gurgling “Help me!” before submerging
again.
Agent Wilkins glared at Guido and demanded, “Get her out of there!”
“
I’m
not going in there!” Guido retorted.
“This is a Christian Dior suit I’m wearing! The water’s only four and a half
feet deep. She can stand if she’ll just get a hold of herself!”
One of the other FBI officers shoved through the crowd carrying a pool net on a
fifteen-foot stick. He lowered the net into the water and extended the stick
out as far as the pole could reach.
Sharon
clutched at the net and he reeled her in
like an ocean tuna fish. Three men had to pluck her gagging from the water.
She had lost both her shoes and stood dripping in a puddle. Her once bouffant
ruffle bottom was now flattened sopping wet and resembled mermaid fins. Agent
Wilkins slapped handcuffs on her. “You’re under arrest.”
Sharon
stood there stunned, soaked, shivering,
humiliated, enraged over the galling loss of her award, and livid at Guido for
refusing to come to her aid. Disgusted, she shrieked at Wilkins, “What is
this?”
Wilkins replied, “You’re under arrest for racketeering charges, including
conspiracy to commit extortion and bribery.”
Walker
deftly snapped handcuffs on Guido’s
wrists, adding, “You’re also under arrest for racketeering charges including
conspiracy to commit extortion, bribery, threat involving murder, kidnapping,
gambling, arson, robbery, money laundering, and loan sharking.”
As shocked partygoers began to gasp and back away from the stunning scene
unfolding right before their eyes, the opportunistic newspaper reporters and
photographers scrambled to surround the action like bloodhounds cornering a
fox. They scrawled down on their notepads the charges the FBI men had just
read, and added to their shots of
Sharon
floundering in the water like a drowning
rat some new pictures of her and Guido captured, shackled in handcuffs, and
surrounded by FBI men.
Although Allison and others were discrete in hiding their amusement over
Sharon’s unceremonious fall from grace, Marshall Wells, who had always thought
of her the way he thought of sitting on a porcupine, could not contain his
laughter.
Sharon
was within earshot, so he snorted,
“Well,
Sharon
. . . I knew you wanted to make a big
splash in
Memphis
, but isn’t this overdoing things, even
for you?”
The
Memphis
Daily Appeal’s
photographer nudged through the men
surrounding Guido and stuffed the $100 bribe back into his coat pocket. “Keep
your cash, bud,” he said. “These pictures I’ve got of you and her will be worth
a hundred times that once they get picked up by
API
! Tomorrow morning, the whole country
will know about this!”
Sharon
saw Allison grinning at what Marshall
and the photographer had said, but in her terror and confusion, she assumed
that she was gloating and snickering at her, so she screeched, “I hate you
Allison Webster! You plotted this! It’s
all your
fault! I’ll get even with you!”
Allison could only smile and shake her head with pity. “I only wish I could
have, Sharon, but you once told me that you were going to be ‘part of the
picture, here, now, and forever after,’ and I guess these newspaper
photographers have helped you achieve what you wanted. I expect those pictures
will
be in the papers, here, now, and forever after!”
The site of Sharon and Guido being led out in handcuffs certainly gave the
AIM
Awards a memorable
high point
that everyone talked about the rest of
the evening until the affair officially ended.
The hood of Allison’s new convertible reflected the bright
Memphis
moon, as they drove away that night. She
snuggled her head on the shoulder of the one man she hoped to know and love for
the rest of her life, while her
AIM
award nestled in her lap like a sleepy child. The entire day and night had been
one for their memory books. Just before they heard his hit song on the radio, a
disc jockey announced that the overnight Nielsen ratings for
The
Ed Sullivan Show
had
skyrocketed to more than 80% of the television viewing audience, an unheard-of
record. His career had launched to a new
level,
and
neither of them yet had any way of knowing where that success would take him .
. . or her.
He was humming along with his own voice on the airwaves, but then he said,
“Isn’t it funny how we . . . .” He stopped, as if he was lost in thought.
“. . .
can’t
help falling in love?”
“You read my mind. I love you, Allison. I want you to be with me from now on.
Do you think you could love me forever?”
Allison felt a rush of feeling well up inside her. “I feel like I’ve known you
forever. It seems like forever that I’ve been aching inside because I couldn’t
believe I could be yours or that you could really be mine. I guess some things
are meant to be.”
He put his fingers to her lips. “Don’t say anything more.”
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. They were alone on
the lonely stretch of highway and nothing but the moon accompanied them,
seeming to smile down at the two of them like an approving old acquaintance. He
turned the volume down on the radio and said, “I don’t want to compete with
him.” He put his arms around Allison and drew her so close they could feel each
other’s heart beat. His embrace felt warm and strong.
She looked up into his eyes and they kissed. His lips were tender and
searching, and she responded to him in a way that took on a thrilling, new
meaning. She secretly thought
,
I feel like we’ve
both climbed to a mountain top tonight. Where on earth can we go from here
?
As if he read her mind, he said, “We’re taking the band to a bunch of other
cities for the next few weeks, including a few gigs on the west coast so we can
grab some more TV work. Wouldn’t it be great if you could come with me?”
Allison thought for only a second. “I’m overdue for a vacation.”
He grinned broadly as he shifted the gears. “I was hoping you’d say something
like that. I think you look more beautiful than a movie star tonight. I can
only imagine how great you’ll look when we get to
Hollywood
and spend some time under the palm trees
at the beach.”
He carefully glided the car back onto the road. As they listened to the rest of
his hit song on the radio and the wind tickled that stubborn little loose curl
that seemed to permanently reside on his forehead, Allison hugged him
affectionately and thought,
What could be more wonderful than being under
palm trees and sunshine with the man I love?
We’ve
got a future together and a whole lifetime to explore all the possibilities
that love has to offer!
The End
Carol
Dunitz
is a writer,
composer, actor, and producer with a distinguished career in marketing,
writing, and performance. Carol ran a marketing agency, The Last Word LLC, for
many years during which time she produced numerous advertising and PR
campaigns, wrote speeches for high level executives, and spoke professionally
around the country. She is the author of numerous books including
Already Spoken For, One Hungry Child
,
and
Louder Than Thunder
, which received over
two dozen positive reviews in national and regional media. Carol is currently
touring in
Bernhardt on Broadway
,
a one-woman musical about Sarah Bernhardt for which she wrote the music, script
and lyrics. Carol is also working on a new musical about Mary Todd Lincoln. She
has a Doctorate in Speech Communication and Theatre. Carol lives in
Ann Arbor
,
MI
,
USA
.
Pulitzer-nominated author David W. Menefee began
his writing career with the
Dallas Times
Herald
and the
Dallas Morning News
before striking out on
his own as a freelance writer and film historian. His
Richard
Barthelmess
: A Life
in Pictur
es
was named one of the
Top 10 Books of the Year by Thomas
Gladysz
in the
San Francisco Examiner
. In 2010,
George O’Brien:
A
Man’s Man
in Hollywood
and
“
Otay
!” The Billy “Buckwheat” Thomas Story
were
popular hits. In 2011,
his
Wally:
The
True
Wallace Reid Story
was
nominated for a Pulitzer and named one of the Best Silent Film Books of the
Year along with his
The Rise and Fall of Lou-
Tellegen
. His Margot Cranston detective series continues
to please an ever-growing worldwide audience. David lives in
Dallas
,
Texas
,
USA
.