Always Means Forever

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Always Means Forever Page 8

by Deborah Fletcher Mello


  Looking up, Darwin smiled, a faint bending of his lips. “Yes, I am. May I help you?”

  The man extended his hand, a full grin filling his ruddy cheeks. “My name’s Harvey and that’s my wife, Jill.” He pointed at the woman, who waved excitedly. “Jill loves to watch that cooking show that you have. She tried to make those dumplings you did once but hers didn’t turn out so well.”

  Darwin continued smiling, nodding ever so slightly. “Well, thank you. I appreciate your wife’s support.”

  “We were wondering if you would sign this article for us. Jill saw it on the newsstand this morning and just had to have it.” The man gestured with the journal in his hand, then laid it on the table in front of Darwin.

  The photographic image staring back up at Darwin caught him off guard. Pulling the paper closer, he scanned the bolded caption and the article. What little there was of his good mood suddenly nosedived. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, words suddenly lost.

  The morning edition of the International Examiner had gone all out with its cover story, including color photos and quotes from sources claiming to have the full scoop about him and that woman. Darwin stared at the provocative image of himself lost between Ava St. John’s legs. The expression across the woman’s face looked as if she were lost in the throes of an erotic moment. Not one graphic caption of his surprise and disgust could be found.

  The man named Harvey disrupted his thoughts. “I have a pen right here if you need one.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Darwin muttered. He passed the newspaper back to the man as he reached into the breast pocket of his blazer for a business card and a ballpoint pen. He scribbled his name across the back and handed it to the man.

  “Call my office. If you and your wife would like a tour of the studio I’d be delighted to show you around and arrange for you to be at a taping of one of my shows.”

  The man nodded his head. “Thanks, but aren’t you going to sign my newspaper?”

  Darwin shook his head no. “Tell Jill she shouldn’t believe everything she reads. There is nothing going on with me and that woman and I can’t autograph that picture as if there were. In fact…” he said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. He pulled a ten-dollar bill from the leather billfold and passed it to the man.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to buy this copy from you. This should cover your troubles.”

  Without a thought the man snatched the money from his hand and pushed it deep into the front pocket of his denim jeans. “No problem. Jill can buy herself another one.”

  “Thanks,” Darwin said, folding the paper in half and laying it beside him on the cushioned bench.

  Harvey stood staring at him. “Too bad,” he said as he cast a quick glance toward his wife. “Ava St. John is one fine piece of booty. I’d sure do her if I had the opportunity. And it sure looks like you did.”

  Darwin watched as Harvey returned to Jill’s side, both of them tossing him a look before they paid their bill and exited the restaurant. Darwin heaved a deep sigh. Ella had told him not to worry. He should have known then that he was standing in the bull’s-eye of a barracuda out to do him harm. A clenched fist dropped to the newspaper beside him.

  Once again he was lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t seen Bridget enter the café, gliding to his side. Her hand dropping to his shoulder startled him and he jumped, knocking his small glass of orange juice across the table’s top. He tossed a paper napkin down to stall the flow as Bridget stepped back to avoid the splatter against her blue suit.

  “Bridget, you scared me.”

  “Sorry about that. Are you all right?”

  Darwin met her gaze, his halfhearted attempt at a smile hardly masking his obvious distress. “No, I’m not.”

  A waitress rushed to intervene, swiping at the table with a damp cloth. As Bridget finally took a seat, the woman took an order for a replacement juice, a white chocolate mocha latte, a double espresso with whipped cream and two buttered croissants.

  Bridget waited until the young woman was out of earshot before she spoke. She reached a manicured hand across the table and gently caressed the back of his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Darwin drew his gaze across her face. Concern painted her expression, her eyes searching his for answers. They sat in silence as he mulled over his options. Then he answered.

  As Darwin relayed the events of the previous evening he could feel his rising anger threatening to consume him. The details were seemingly bizarre, even to him, and when he hypothesized that it had been done on purpose, Ella instigating the entire scenario, even he found himself not totally convinced. He needed Bridget to believe him though, wanted her to see details of his conspiracy theory that he himself might have overlooked. But when he was through, it was her attorney’s face that stared back at him, her expression and mood devoid of any emotion.

  “Where’s this article?” she asked softly, the tone to her voice oddly disconcerting.

  He passed her the newspaper, his face flushed with heat as she opened it to the front page and stared down at the pictures, quickly scanning the article.

  “Is this the only news release that you’re aware of?”

  He nodded. “This is the only one I’ve seen. I don’t know if there are any others, but isn’t this enough?”

  “Enough for what?”

  Darwin tossed his hands in the air. “I don’t know what. But it has to be enough for something! I can’t just ignore this, Bridget,” he said emphatically.

  Bridget swallowed, carefully choosing her words. “I can understand that something like this can be upsetting, Darwin, but I have to question if you making an issue out of it won’t do you more harm than good. Have you even discussed it yet with Ella? Or the studio?”

  “Not yet.”

  They were interrupted as breakfast was placed against the table, the waitress grinning broadly. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

  “No, thank you,” Darwin answered, reaching for his mug of hot brew.

  “Everything is just fine,” Bridget said politely, watching as the woman turned and headed in the opposite direction.

  Across the table Darwin was pouting, wearing his frustration like a neon banner. He pushed his plate to the center of the table, his appetite having disappeared with his mood.

  “Darwin, you’re upset. I think when you calm down this won’t feel as bad as it feels right now. You just—”

  Darwin interrupted her. “What? Relax? Ignore it? Pretend it didn’t happen? I can’t do that. I’m angry. They both played me and I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”

  Bridget tossed the tabloid back onto the table in front of him. Her index finger tapped harshly against the image of him in Ava’s embrace. “What I see is you having a good time with a woman notorious for her persuasive talents with a long list of eligible bachelors and allegedly with a few men who were married. What I see are multiple shots of you and a woman who appears to be your date enjoying yourselves at a dinner party last night. In fact, you’re actually smiling in this photo, and in this one, and in that one the woman is whispering in your ear. It doesn’t appear that you’re in any distress or that you aren’t actively participating. Now, maybe you were set up. Maybe it was planned, but there is nothing here that indicates you weren’t enjoying every minute of it. Seeing is believing, Darwin, and a picture is worth a thousand words.”

  For the first time Bridget’s voice had risen an octave, her tone harsher than she’d wanted it to be. Her words were cutting, her own emotions spinning out of control. Jealousy coated every syllable out of her mouth, anger washing over each consonant and vowel.

  Darwin stared at her. His mood shifted into a pit of hostility. “I really don’t care what it looks like. I told you what it was and more importantly, what it wasn’t. But I didn’t expect you to believe me. I’m just a client anyway, right, Counselor? There was nothing else between us so why should you?”

  Bridget bit again
st her bottom lip. She sucked in a lungful of oxygen, blowing it slowly out. Then she spoke. “Clients typically pay for my services. I don’t remember seeing a check with your name on it,” she responded, regretting the words before they were out of her mouth, but thoroughly annoyed by his tone and attitude.

  Darwin stood up abruptly. Reaching into his pocket for his checkbook, he scribbled across the paper quickly, tearing it out of the book. He dropped it into Bridget’s lap and then tossed a handful of bills onto the table to cover the cost of the meal. “I think that should cover the expenses for your services, Ms. Hinton. You can mail my statement,” he said, refusing to meet her stare. And then he turned an about-face, striding heavily out of the restaurant and as far from Bridget as he could run.

  Darwin pulled his car out of its parking spot and gunned the engine as he tore down the road. Two miles later, as he sped past a state trooper already writing one ticket, he realized he was only asking for trouble he didn’t need. Switching lanes, he depressed the brake, slowing down until he was conforming to the speed limit.

  It wasn’t nine-thirty in the morning yet and already his entire day seemed to be spinning out of control. He had no reason to be angry with Bridget and even less reason to have stormed out on her the way he had. He understood she had to look at things with an objective eye. But he had wanted to be coddled, to be told he wasn’t being irrational, and when she hadn’t appeased him, he’d thrown a tantrum. I’m sure that made quite an impression, Darwin thought to himself as he made a right turn off the exit ramp.

  Eventually he would have to apologize but he wasn’t ready to make amends anytime soon. His ego had been fractured and at that moment wallowing in self-pity felt just fine. He shook his head, wishing he could kick himself for being so rash. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that Bridget believe him, but it was. He’d seen how her jaw had tightened, the sparkle dimming noticeably from her eyes as she’d stared at those photos. She had tried not to show it but she’d been disappointed and hurt. He could hear in her voice that it had made her angry and there he was at the core of all that emotion.

  As he pulled into the studio’s parking garage, guiding his car into his reserved space, he thought about calling her. He sat staring at his cell phone for some time trying to find the right words. Too embarrassed, he changed his mind and headed inside.

  Rhonda jumped to her feet, rushing behind him as he made his way into his office. “Good morning, Mr. Tolliver. Ms. Scott says she needs to see you right away,” the young woman gushed.

  “Good morning, Rhonda. Were there any calls?”

  Rhonda’s eyes widened. “The phone hasn’t stopped ringing! The press, all the affiliates, everyone wants a comment about you and Ava St. John. Ms. Scott said to refer them all to her office.”

  Darwin could feel the tension bristle across his shoulders and up the length of his neck.

  Rhonda continued. “The Morning Show said they want to schedule you for an interview and…”

  Darwin held up his hand, stalling Rhonda’s words.

  “Thank you, Rhonda. I’ll deal with it all later.”

  She nodded. “Yes, sir.” Rhonda stood staring at him, twisting her hands together nervously as a question pressing against her conscience begged to be asked.

  Darwin tossed her a look of annoyance, his eyes rolling skyward. “What is it, Rhonda?” he asked curtly.

  “Is it true about what they’re saying?”

  “Is what true?”

  “About you and that Ava woman?”

  Darwin sighed.

  “Everybody’s whispering about it.”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s not true.”

  Rhonda smiled, a wide grin filling her youthful face. “Oh, I’m so glad. I don’t like her at all.”

  Darwin smiled back. “She’s not a favorite of mine, either, Rhonda. Now, let’s get some work done today. I’m headed over to Ella’s office. You need to check that all the ingredients for today’s menu are ready, please.”

  She gave him a quick salute. “Yes, sir. I’m on it.”

  He winked, a smile replacing his earlier frown. “I’m sorry if I snapped at you earlier. I didn’t mean to. This Ava mess just has me a little unnerved.”

  “I understand.” Rhonda smiled back. “I’m sure it’s going to be okay, Mr. Tolliver.”

  They exited the office together, Rhonda stopping at her own desk as Darwin sauntered down the narrow length of hallway to meet with Ella. He tapped lightly against the closed door before pushing it open and moving inside. Across the room, Ella stood staring out the window, a smug expression gracing her face. She turned, meeting his gaze with a full smile, as he crossed over to sit in the upholstered chair in front of her desk.

  She greeted him cheerfully. “Darwin, I thought you’d gone into hiding.”

  “Why? I didn’t do anything I need to hide from.”

  “Of course you didn’t. It’s just ugly how the tabloids and media are making such a fuss over last night’s debacle.”

  “Really, I wasn’t aware that anyone was making a fuss,” Darwin responded, hoping for some sort of reaction.

  Ella nodded. “It seems that photos of you and Ava are popping up in all the tabloids. And every gossip segment on national news has had a comment. In fact, it seems you even made page six of the New York Post. Like I said, it’s just ugly,” she said, gesturing with a palm pressed to her heart.

  “It’s very ugly, Ella. Lies usually are.”

  “I’m sure it will all die down soon enough. I wouldn’t let it bother me if I were you.”

  “But you’re not me and I am worried. We’re talking about my reputation here.” Darwin’s voice cracked with rising anger.

  Ella’s eyes narrowed. “Darwin, negative publicity isn’t pleasant, but it’s still publicity. The public is interested in you. They want to know more. You should capitalize on that. Swing it to your advantage. You’re a celebrity now, and celebrities deal with this stuff all the time. In the long run, it can only help you, the show and the studio.”

  Darwin struggled to contain his emotions. “How do you figure that, Ella?”

  A wide grin filled the woman’s face, deepening the heavy creases that lined her eyes and forehead. “The affiliates are asking about you. National news stations want to know more. If you play your cards right there’s no telling where this could take the show. I can just see us now,” she exclaimed, her eyes glazing with enthusiasm.

  “Us?” Darwin tilted his head ever so slightly, leaning forward in his seat.

  “We’re all in this together, Darwin. National distribution of your show will be of benefit to you, me, the studio. Our whole team could get a boost from the attention. This could just be the beginning of something bigger and better for all of us.”

  Darwin shook his head, chuckling under his breath. His gaze met Ella’s for a second time. “So, what is it you suggest I do now?”

  “We’re going to get you in front of the cameras. Let you talk up the show. Everyone is champing at the bit for an interview. We can get them started first thing tomorrow.”

  “And if the only thing they want to talk about is Ava St. John, then what?”

  Ella tossed up her hands. “Then talk about her. Heaven knows she’s talking about you.”

  Darwin glanced down to his watch. “I’ll give it some thought,” he said as he eased his way back toward the door. “I hate to cut this meeting short, but I have to run an errand before I have to tape this afternoon.”

  Ella continued to grin, thoroughly pleased with herself. “Don’t you worry, Darwin! Everything is going to work out just fine.”

  Darwin forced a grin back. He mumbled under his breath as he exited the room, his teeth clenched tightly. “You just don’t know, Ella. You just don’t know.”

  Bridget sat stone-faced, refusing to make her exit until she was certain Darwin was a good distance ahead of her. She’d been sitting for so long that the waitress had brought her a second cup of coffee
without asking, tapping her lightly against the shoulder as if she understood.

  To say that breakfast had gone badly was putting it mildly. Her emotions had gotten away from her and if there were some way for her to roll back the clock to do it all differently, she would do it in a heartbeat. Seeing Darwin in such a compromising position and learning that it had happened just last night when she’d been wishing for his attention had cut like a knife through soft butter. Even if he hadn’t gone to the event with Ava St. John, they had obviously spent time together. Bridget knew she had no right to be envious but the emotion had been all-consuming, sweeping right through her.

  The International Examiner was still sitting open on the tabletop. Picking it up, Bridget read the article word by word once and then a second time, looking for one paragraph, or a single sentence, that would support Darwin’s claims. Most of the story centered on Ava St. John’s string of sexual trysts, which supposedly now included WKTV’s newest rising star. There was a paragraph or two that nicely expounded Darwin’s credentials. Barely a column away, though, it cast Darwin as some sort of notorious playboy, wining and dining the likes of Ava St. John as if that were an accomplishment any man would be proud of.

  The photos were all crystal-clear and in full color. Two quarter-page images showed the woman wrapped around him like a silk smoking jacket. In one, his head was tossed back in a deep laugh. In the other he was grinning widely, clearly amused. The journalistic coup, of course, was the graphic pictorial of a very naked Ava with her long legs wrapped tightly around Darwin’s back, rapture her expression of choice. You couldn’t see Darwin’s expression, the partial view of his face pressed into Ava’s neck, so there was no discerning whether he was enjoying the moment or not. The image left much to the imagination if one were so inclined. But it was, after all, just a tabloid, Bridget mused, and if it wasn’t for Darwin’s reaction she would probably be inclined to give it very little thought.

  Bridget folded the paper closed and slid it into her leather attaché. With most of her cases, training had taught her to examine the facts the way a jury would see them and most saw things at face value. To heck with what could have been, should have been, or really didn’t happen. But experience had taught her that if you truly believed in your client’s innocence, you fought tooth and nail to confirm it. Darwin felt he had a case. Bridget wasn’t so sure.

 

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