Diamonds and Dreams (25 page)

Al,
who tagged along, but remained silent most of the night, finally spoke.
 
“Do you want to try to lose her?”

“Not
yet,” Derek replied.
 
“If she wants a
story, let’s give her one.”

Before
Lindsay knew what was happening, she felt Derek jerk her close against his chest
before he urged her lips to meet his.
 
The deep, stirring kiss he gave her left her thoughts scattered like
autumn leaves dancing on the wind.

“That
should do it,” he muttered, then ushered her toward a waiting hansom cab.

After
taking out his leather wallet and handing a crisp bill to the young male driver
who wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and faded overalls, Derek helped Lindsay up
into the bright red carriage.
 
For the
first time all night, Al remained behind, waiting on the sidewalk for them to
return.
 
The silvery crescent half-moon
floated high above the buildings which were silhouetted against the midnight
blue sky as Lindsay listened to the “clip-clop” sound of the gray horse’s
hooves.
 
A garland of carnations around
the mare’s neck scented the air with their sweet fragrance.
 
Lindsay leaned back in her seat and thought
how nice Derek’s arm felt tightening on her shoulders as they rode around the
old square that bustled with people.

Jazz
music filled the streets and Lindsay had to raise her voice to ask, “Why did
you kiss me when you knew Kelli Brendan watched us?
 
Seeing us together will only spur her on to
find out more about us if she thinks you and I have a hot relationship.
 
Is that what you want?””

“If
I hear her describe a romance between you and me on her next show, I won’t be
disappointed.
 
Will you?”

“I
don’t know.”
 
She should be flattered if
the media released such a story, but something about the situation didn’t feel
right.
 
Perhaps it was because Derek only
seemed attracted to her as a woman whenever there was an audience or reporters
nearby.
 
Or maybe it was because she
didn’t want Brant to hear or read a false story about her relationship with
Derek.

“I
had fun,” Derek told her later when he escorted her back to her hotel
room.
 
“Tomorrow we’ll spend one last day
sightseeing,
then
I have to work.”

“Thanks
for a lovely evening.”
 
She wondered if
he’d kiss her again.
 
Seeing Brant’s face
flash through her mind again, she decided to level with Derek.
 
“Before you go, I’d like to talk about us.”

He
arched his brows with interest.
 
“Yes.”

“I
enjoyed the kiss we shared tonight, but I think it’s only fair to tell you that
I recently broke up with my fiancé, and I haven’t completely gotten over him
yet.
 
That’s why I’m not ready to plunge
into a relationship with another man quite yet.”

Derek
smiled.
 
“Don’t worry.
 
I understand, and I won’t pressure you to
become any more than my friend.
 
You’re
such good company that just having your friendship is enough to satisfy
me.
 
Goodnight, Lindsay.”

Like
a robot, he turned and walked away, leaving her surprised and contented that
the wouldn’t
push her to enter into a torrid affair with
him.
 
Maybe
he’s lonely for a friend, and nothing more
, she thought, remembering that
she reached this same conclusion during the brief time she became acquainted
with him in Columbus.

By
the end of the next day—Sunday—Lindsay and Derek shopped on Canal Street and
Royal Street which was lined with antique shops and art galleries.
 
They visited the French Market and stood in
awe before the St. Louis Cathedral.
 
What
Lindsay enjoyed the most was when she and Derek toured the Garden District
mansions and the River Road plantations.

That
night, Derek, wearing an ivory dinner jacket, brown pants and a tie, escorted
Lindsay to the world-famous Arnaud’s Restaurant that had been restored to its
original 1918 grandeur.
 
Crystal
chandeliers, authentic ceiling fans and beveled glass windows gave mute
evidence of their former splendor.

When
a photographer spotted Lindsay and Derek, he immediately held up his camera and
snapped pictures of them.
 
She expected
Derek to be furious, but instead he urged her to strike a loving pose with him.

As
soon as they were alone, she asked, “Why do you detest photographers part of
the time, but seem to enjoy when they find you at unexpected times like just
now?”

“I
knew that this one would be here tonight.
 
That’s why I brought you to dine at Arnaud’s.
 
Publicity is wonderful as long as it’s the
right kind.
 
I have no objection to being
photographed with an elegantly beautiful woman like you.”

On
Monday morning Derek informed Lindsay that he had two hours free before he’d be
busy for the rest of the day.
 
“An actor
friend of mine, Marco Moore, is on location here, filming a new movie.
 
I’d like to stop by the set and say
‘hello.’
 
Will you come with me?”

Lindsay
agreed and she arrived at a closed-off section of the French Quarter just as
the director and a few of the cast members prepared to record a danger
scene.
 
Standing by an open doorway, she
inhaled a breath of moist air and squinted in the brilliant sun.
 
Derek left her alone as he chatted with
Marco, who she thought could have passed as a 1960s Robert Redford
look-alike.
 
Soon Lindsay saw a tall,
muscular man with shaggy black hair, a ruddy complexion, and narrow brown eyes
that darted back and forth.
 
When he
crossed over the police barrier, she assumed that he must be one of the workers
or someone would have asked him to leave since the scenes were to be shot on a
closed set.

Doubts
filled her mind when he approached her and started talking like an interested
fan.
 
“Isn’t this exciting?” he
asked.
 
“I always wanted to see Jake
Rockwell in person.”

“Jake
Rockwell?” she repeated.
 
“Don’t you mean
Marco Moore?
 
Jake Rockwell is only the
name of the hero-cop character that Marco usually portrays in his movies.”

“Yes,
I know.”

The
stranger obviously didn’t belong here.
 
Lindsay wondered if she should politely inform him that the set was off
limits to visitors unless they had permission to be there.
 
Or maybe she should report his presence to
the security guard.
 
On the other hand,
the man seemed harmless enough and quite possibly
was just a
curious tourist wanting
to see the action.

“Jake
always escapes danger and later everyone thinks how clever he is for doing it,”
the stranger said, adding, “Well, this time I’m smarter than he is.”

Lindsay
gasped in horror when she saw him draw a pistol from his pocket.
 
As he took a few steps closer to Marco, she
felt terrified, but managed to raise her voice and shout at him.
 
“Stop!
 
Nothing happening in front of you is real;
it’s fiction…only a movie!”

The
obsessed fan didn’t seem affected by her words.
 
The look of fierce determination still remained on his face as he
continued to make his way toward the unsuspecting actor.

Evidently
a few people, including Derek, must have heard Lindsay’s panic-stricken warning
and spotted the gun so they were alert to the urgency of the situation.
 
Without hesitation, Derek tackled the
trespasser, rolling back and forth in a desperate struggle until finally he
grabbed the gun from the intruder.
 
Giving the pistol a powerful shove, he slid it over to the side of the
pavement where a guard hastily retrieved the weapon.
 
Derek pinned the man’s arms behind his back
until two other security guards escorted him to the police cruiser which
arrived at the scene.

“Take
him away,” Derek yelled to the men wearing blue uniforms.

“You
might have just saved Marco’s life,” Lindsay told Derek when he joined her
again.

“Did
you see when that jerk crossed over the roped-off area of the street?” he
demanded.

She
nodded.
 
“I considered telling one of the
guards that I thought he slipped past the gate, but I figured at first he might
have a right to be here, so I didn’t interfere.”

“I
wish you would have.
 
Marco could be
lying dead right now if I hadn’t reached the maniac in time to hold him back.”

“You
were brave.
 
Probably not many people
would have risked their life the way you did.”

Derek
waved his arms as he finally lost his temper.
 
“Lindsay, by not taking immediate action to have the man removed from
the set when you suspected he didn’t belong there, you endangered the lives of
every person here, including yourself.”

Embarrassed,
she looked down at the street.
 
“I—I’m
sorry, but I thought the guards had everything under control.”

“They
try, but their best often isn’t good enough.
 
Anyone who has a well-known face must be on guard all the time.
 
It disappoints me to discover that you’re too
trusting, too naïve.”

Derek
shot her an icy look, then walked away to speak with Marco again.
 
Alone in her room minutes later, she splashed
cold water on her face and wished there was some way she could wash away the
ugly scene that occurred with Derek.

That
evening, an hour before Derek’s concert was to start, a new bodyguard with
long, dark hair and a bushy beard that covered most of his face arrived at
Lindsay’s door to escort her to the auditorium.
 
“I’m Kenny.
 
You won’t see Derek
until after the concert, but I’ll stay with you to make sure that everything
goes smoothly.”

What
did he mean?
 
Was he talking about things
going smoothly for her or for Derek?
 
Before she could question him, he ushered her into a waiting limo, then
gave the driver directions to get to the enormous building where Derek was to
perform.

Inside
the huge auditorium thousands of adoring fans already clapped or chanted their
idol’s name or they raised arms that swayed from left to right.
 
A dozen armed security guards lingered near
the edge of the stage, keeping a constant watch over the audience for the first
sign of trouble.
 
Kenny led Lindsay to
her seat in the front row where Derek’s manager and publicist, along with Marco
Moore, waited for the houselights to dim and the huge red curtains to
open.
 
Lindsay murmured “hi” to them, but
Marco turned away from her and refused to acknowledge her presence.
 
Was he, like Derek, angry because she didn’t
report seeing the intruder who tried to harm Marco earlier?

A
hush fell over the audience when a pounding of drums echoed through the large
area, alerting everyone that the moment they waited for was about to
happen.
 
Anxious-eyed people, mostly
ladies, seemed to hold their breath until at last they got a glimpse of the
famous shadowy figure on stage.
 
Wild
screams burst out from the crowd as the wandering white spotlight finally
landed on the center of the stage where Derek appeared, almost as if by magic.

The
noise subsided as he eased into a sentimental love song.
 
To Lindsay’s dismay and surprise, Derek
didn’t as much as glance at her during the next hour.
 
She couldn’t help but recall how different
his attitude had been the last time she attended one of his concerts when he
selected her to come on stage with him.
 
He seemed attracted to her before, but after the dangerous incident in
the French Quarter, he behaved like the sight of her disgusted him, almost as
if he blamed her because someone tried to kill Marco.

That’s
ridiculous,
she told herself.
 
Derek must know that it’s absurd
to blame me because security guards slipped on the job earlier.
 
Perhaps Derek was caught up in other
problems and that’s why he’d been so touchy.
 
Possibly he fretted about his performance tonight.
 
She knew he was a perfectionist and believed
that each of his shows should be better than the last.
 
Probably after he delivered a fine concert,
he’d apologize and explain that he, even being one of the world’s favorite
singers, experienced a case of the jitters before going on stage.