Diamonds and Dreams (23 page)

“This
came for you in today’s mail,” Dawn announced one morning at the radio
station.
 
She dropped an ivory envelope
with a gold seal on Lindsay’s desk.

Slitting
one end of the envelope and pulling out the contents, Lindsay gasped.
 
“I can hardly believe this!
 
It’s a note from Derek Eden.
 
He also sent an invitation to a party two
weeks from Saturday.
 
It’s to be a
fund-raiser for world hunger.”

Dawn’s
mouth fell open.
 
“You’re friendly with
the great Derek Eden?”

“I
don’t know him well, but I spent an enjoyable evening with him when he did a
concert in Columbus last summer.”

“I’ll
bet it
was
enjoyable!”
 
Dawn snickered.

Lindsay
made a face.
 
“It wasn’t like what you
must be thinking.
 
We chatted and spent a
few hours getting to know each other after he chose me out of the audience to
come on stage with him during a song.”

“Lucky you!
 
You plan on attending the party, don’t you?”

She
shrugged.
 
“I don’t care much for
glittering social events, although it’s for a good cause.”

Surprise
washed over Dawn’s face.
 
“Most women
dream of attending parties like this elegant fund-raiser.
 
Why aren’t you excited?”

“Well--”
she stalled, then after a few seconds decided to confide in Dawn.
 
“I’m a little scared about going.
 
What if I say or do the wrong thing in front
of all the ‘beautiful people’ who’ll be there?”

“Don’t
worry.
 
Your confidence will return once
you get to the party and start to become acquainted with the guests.
 
They may be some of the most famous names in
the world, but after all, they’re still ordinary people…simply human.”

“Maybe
I’m silly to worry.”

“You’d
be worse than silly if you turn down a date with Derek Eden; you’d be downright
stupid.”

In
the end, Lindsay decided to attend the fund-raiser.
 
She knew she looked better than she ever did
in her life as she wore a peach spaghetti-strap gown with a dainty ruffle above
the
bustline
and a bodice which showed off her narrow
waist.
 
Another ruffle at the bottom of
her long skirt flounced when she walked and she heard the rustle of silk that
felt light and cool against her legs.
 
Her ivory ankle-strap, open-toe high heels felt tight on her feet, but
she barely noticed since anticipation descended over her like a pleasant dream.

She
still couldn’t get over the surprise that Derek volunteered to pick her and
escort her.
 
Since he invited her, it was
only polite, of course, but she would have understood if he’d been leery of
letting the press and his fans catch a glimpse of him in public.

His
bodyguard, Al, was with him when he arrived at her apartment.
 
Lindsay absorbed everything about Derek—the
beige tuxedo with satin lapels, a starched ivory shirt with a frill of ruffles
at his wrists, and the beige velvet bow tie he
wore,
the way he moved like a graceful deer, his broad shoulders that squared in
perfect posture.

What’s
gotten into me?
 
I never stared so boldly
at a man in the past,
she told herself,
except for Brant.

“You
look gorgeous,” Derek complimented her, letting his eyes roam over every inch
of her so that he even noticed the mother-of-pearl bracelet she wore.

“Thank
you.
 
I was surprised when I received
your invitation.”

“Why?”

“Frankly,
I figured you probably forgot my name by now.”

“I
listen to WCIT often, so it pleased me when I heard you on the air.”

Soon
Lindsay and Derek arrived at the legendary large, yet intimate Waldorf-Astoria
hotel where the party was held.
 
When she
entered the main lobby she walked across
Rigal’s
marble and mosaic medallion on the floor.
 
A towering, gilded clock captured her attention.

Derek
must have noticed her interest in the large art deco murals, which had music
and dance themes.
 
“The hotel recently underwent
restoration of its art deco interior,” he said.
 
“In the Grand Ballroom, where we’re going now since the affair is taking
place there, you’ll see that it, too, experienced a major restoration.”

When
she reached the room where over a million people attended functions in the
first half of the century, the splendid surroundings were alive with people and
big band music.
 
“It’s magnificent.”

“They
uncovered the grillwork,
regilded
the bas-relief on
the balconies and treated the hunt scene above the opulent chandelier with
twenty-two carat gold leaf,” Derek informed her.

The
fund-raiser promised to be a posh affair.
 
Lindsay mingled with other guests, but remained reserved and uneasy as
she tried to maintain an air of nonchalance.

Standing
so close beside her that Derek’s breath felt warm against her ear, he whispered
later, “You’re not having a good time, are you?”

“It’s
a wonderful party.”

“Then
why aren’t you enjoying it, Lindsay?”

“It
seems as if everyone wants to outdo everyone else, whether it
be
a better role, bigger house or fancier car.”

“They’re
not all braggarts.
 
Sometimes I tell
people about my interests and achievements in my singing career simply because
after I ask them about their own, I don’t know what else to say.”

She
considered this startling admission.
 
It
surprised her that Derek ever felt self-conscious and unsure of himself,
especially after seeing how confident he appeared on stage.

Excitement
bubbled inside her as Derek introduced her to the most popular people in the
entertainment business.
 
Soon she
couldn’t help but feel more at ease at the party, and by the second hour of it,
she wondered when the last time was she’d had so much fun.
 
Less than a year ago she couldn’t have gotten
close enough to these celebrities to even ask for an autograph.

This is
only the beginning
, she thought happily.
 
Now that she learned how to set her goals,
then work so they’d come true, she intended to turn more wonderful dreams into
reality in the future.

Derek
behaved as a perfect gentleman, a considerate date, for the rest of the
evening, and after he kissed her goodnight on the cheek, he issued another
invitation.
 
“I’m having a small party at
my place on Saturday night.
 
I’d like for
you to come.”

The
night of his party Lindsay wore a pink floral dress with a soft watercolor
print and a full skirt that flowed naturally from a V-yoke waist.
 
From the top of her upswept coiffure entwined
with fresh baby’s breath down to her high-heeled bone shoes, she reflected a
fine example of womanhood at its best.
 
A
few dabs of Chanel No. 5, which she used only on special occasions, completed
the finishing touches of her toilette.

A
myriad of twinkling lights surrounding Manhattan looked like a glittering
fairyland as she drove to the address Derek gave her.
 
It was that of a classy apartment building on
Fifth Avenue where an elevator carried her to the thirty-ninth floor of the
high-rise.
 
A bell chimed and she stepped
onto a gray marble hallway.
 
She pressed
the tiny button beneath the number that read 39B.
 
The door opened almost immediately.

“Hello,
Lindsay.
 
I’m glad you came,” Derek said
cordially after his butler ushered her inside.
 
Derek was garbed in an elegant brown dinner jacket and pants with an
oyster-colored shirt adorned by a hint of ruffles at the neck and sleeves.

The
sophisticated contemporary apartment decorated in muted earth tones was already
brimming with prestigious people.
 
Derek
leaned toward her and whispered, “You look sensational.
 
They’ll love you.”

“Who?”
she muttered curiously, but he ignored her question.

“Would
you like something to drink?” a short man wearing a white uniform asked her.

She
nodded.
 
“A glass of white wine would be
fine.”

As
he opened a bottle, she heard the liquid dribble into a sparkling goblet as he
poured her drink.
 
When her fingertips
touched the glass he handed her, she instantly recognized the unmistakable ring
of French lead crystal.

Derek
glanced toward the door.
 
“Ah!
 
More guests are arriving.
 
Come with me while I greet them.”

She
took a sip from her glass,
then
set it down on a small
table before she crossed the room with Derek.
 
Murmuring a “hello” to familiar faces and politely acknowledging new
acquaintances, Lindsay stood quietly.
 
The room became an ever-changing kaleidoscope of color and motion before
a waiter brought out a buffet laden with a tempting array of food—a variety of
canapés, colorful salad, hearty main dishes such as glazed ham and Cornish hens
with cranberry sauce, and desserts dripping with calories.

Lindsay
wandered over to the long glass window that reached from the ceiling to the
plush brown carpet and covered the entire length of a wall.
 
She enjoyed the spectacular view of
Manhattan’s famous skyline when she heard an argument break out.
 
Turning, she saw that Derek’s mouth was
twisted out of shape and tiny wrinkles tugged at the corners of his eyes as he
spoke with a pushy reporter in his mid-thirties.

“Many
of the reporters and photographers came tonight because we expected Marco Moore
to be here.
 
Isn’t he coming?”

“You’ve
got a lot of nerve, punk, coming here and then asking me that, especially after
that piece of trash you wrote about me in your last column,” Derek
snapped.
 
“I suggest you leave now before
I have you thrown out.”

Lindsay
spotted the determined look on the reporter’s face and she expected him to try
to further interrogate Derek, but he must have realized he was on thin ice
because he left peacefully.
 
She wanted
to ask Derek what their exchange had been about, but she didn’t pry.
 
“You look upset,” she said, approaching
Derek.
 
“Anything I can do?”

His
frown curled into a smile again.
 
“Yes,
my dear, there is.
 
Just stay near me for
the rest of the party.”

She
thought his request was odd, but she passed it off and granted his wish.
 
When reporters and photographers flocked
around her, she was amazed that they’d be so interested in her when there were
bigger celebrities in the room.
 
Derek
gave permission to the photographers to take her picture with him, but he carefully
evaded answering questions each time reporters inquired if a romance blossomed
between him and Lindsay.

The
minute that Derek left her alone, a thin woman with short black hair and
piercing brown eyes approached her.
 
“How
long have you been personally acquainted with Derek, Miss Blair?”

“For
a few months,” Lindsay replied.

“I
suppose you met some of his friends by now, but tell me, did he introduce you
to Marco Moore?”

Lindsay
wondered why Marco’s name kept popping up, especially since he didn’t attend
the party.
 
“Actually, Derek and I are
just--”

Before
she could finish, Derek stepped between her and the woman he addressed as
Bella.
 
“Always the bird of prey, eh,
Bella?
 
You’ll have to excuse us.
 
I need to speak in private with my lady.”

It
was news to Lindsay how she suddenly became “his lady.”
 
He put his arm around her waist and firmly
guided her in the opposite direction of Bella.
 
When they were out of earshot, Derek’s dark eyes flashed as he turned to
her.
 
“I’d prefer that you refrain from
giving the press any information unless it has been cleared with me first.”

“But
I didn’t tell her anything important,” she argued.

“Sometimes
it’s hard for an outsider to realize that a few casual words intercepted by the
wrong person can easily wreak havoc on a career that took years to build.
 
Naturally, the reporters and columnists are
eager to learn all they can about you and my personal life.”