After piling their plates with fluffy pancakes and sausage, Mrs. Sharon left Darnell and Thad alone to enjoy their meal. The mood was upbeat, charged with expectation. For Thad, it was the perfect time for him to bring up his movie script. He wanted to get it over with. After that, they could move on to other things.
“You know, Darnell, I want to ask you something.”
She gave him a crooked smile. She had wondered what was behind his sudden reappearance. “Oh, yeah? What do you want to ask me?”
“Well, there’s this script…”
The ring of the telephone stopped him in mid-sentence.
“Excuse me. I’m expecting a call.” Darnell went to answer the telephone. “Hello?” Pause. “Hi, Lance. How are you?”
Thad went still. Silverware in hand, he turned toward Darnell. Her tone was casual, but the smile she wore lit up her face.
As she spoke softly on the telephone, she moved across the room, farther and farther away from Thad. Slowly, resentment began to build. So much for the two of them sleeping separately. He wanted to snatch the receiver from her hand and hang up on her super doctor. Suddenly, as if propelled by that thought, he marched across the kitchen and did just that.
Darnell stood stunned. She looked at Thad, then at the telephone receiver now back on its cradle, unable to believe what had happened. Her attention returned to him.
“Why did you do that?” She sounded like a small child who had been reprimanded. “He was calling all the way from South America!”
Pausing for a moment, Thad tried to formulate a rational explanation for his actions. He knew the real reason, but at the moment an alternative would do.
“Every time I come here, you’ve got a telephone hanging from your ear,” he hissed. “I’m not playing second fiddle to a phone again. In short, lady, you’re just rude, and I’m sick and tired of it.”
Darnell was taken aback. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stewart, if I’ve offended you, but I still don’t think that gives you the right to hang up on my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? The word cut him like a knife. Feeling justified in his indignation, Thad headed toward the door. If she wasn’t going to admit that she had been in the wrong, then there was no point in remaining here. His voice was steel.
“I see that we’re getting ready to get into an argument, so I’m heading back to Tiburon. You can think about what I said and call me later with an apology.”
Darnell exploded as she stalked after him through the house to the front door. “An apology? An apology for what? You snatched the phone out of my hand. You owe me the apology!”
Thad hovered over her menacingly. “When hell freezes over!” With that, he slammed the front door firmly behind him.
Tearing out of her driveway, he nearly collided with a car slowing to turn into the driveway belonging to the house across the street. Blowing his horn at the culprit who dared block his way, Thad drove down the street, tires screeching, without looking back.
* * *
The car charging out of Darnell’s driveway startled Moody as it came within inches of sideswiping his vehicle. Moody shouted an expletive at the retreating car as it disappeared down the street. He recognized it as the same one that had cut him off weeks ago under similar circumstances. Whoever was driving was reckless.
He had turned into his driveway when he started to become concerned. He didn’t know if the driver had been angry, impatient, or simply irresponsible. He stopped the car and let it idle as he studied the house across the street in the rearview mirror. Had there been a problem at Darnell’s house? Maybe he should go see if everything was all right. This would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself. What luck!
After picking his car up at the airport, he had returned to his West Coast residence to resume his plan. He had never expected to have an opportunity so quickly. Besides, he needed to assure himself that everything was all right at her house.
Parking the car, he climbed out and walked across the street. He was about to push the buzzer at the entrance gates when they opened unexpectedly. A car appeared. He recognized Darnell’s housekeeper as the driver. The gate closed behind her. Both Moody and Mrs. Sharon looked surprised to see each other. She rolled the driver’s window down a crack.
“May I help you?” She surveyed the well-dressed man standing before her. Middle-aged, he was of medium height, with a smooth, light brown complexion framed by straight, dark hair that was streaked with gray. His eyes were dark, and the smile he flashed was friendly. Yet, she was wary. He was a stranger appearing at Darnell’s gate. She was a celebrity, and although her fans adored her, that didn’t mean that they all meant her well. Undetected, Mrs. Sharon pushed the car button that would alert the security patrol of potential problems. They made their appearance whenever summoned. Meanwhile, she observed the man cautiously as he spoke.
“Hello, I’m Mr. Waters, your new neighbor across the street. I came over to introduce myself and to see if everything was okay over here. I was turning into my house, and this car came tearing out of the driveway over here and almost hit me. I was concerned.”
Mrs. Sharon relaxed a little. She had heard about the man who had rented the house across the street. This was him. Impressive. He appeared cultured and well-spoken. He seemed nice enough.
“No need for concern, everything is fine.” That’s all he had asked, and that was all she was telling him. She had heard the fight between Darnell and Thad, and there was no need to spread the woman’s business.
Moody pressed. “I’ve been told that the singer Darnell Cameron lives here. I was wondering if she was available. I’m a big fan, as well as a neighbor. Is there a chance that I can introduce myself to her personally?”
Mrs. Sharon shook her head. “No. I’m afraid she’s not receiving visitors today.”
Although disappointed, Moody decided on retreat. He might need the housekeeper as an ally. His friendly smile broadened. “I understand, but nice meeting you, Mrs.—” He knew her name but didn’t want her to know it. The lady was smart; she offered no further information.
“Nice meeting you too, Mr…”
“Waters.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Waters. Thank you for stopping by.” Case closed, Mrs. Sharon continued on her way just as the patrol car appeared. She stopped to inform them that the problem had been resolved, then headed down the street.
Moody smiled to himself as he crossed the street under the watchful eye of the security patrol. He knew that the housekeeper must have summoned them. The company had provided him with the same safety device when he moved into his house. It was good to know that they would respond in such a timely manner. However, Darnell was in no danger from him. On the contrary, it was his plan to see that she was protected every day of her life.
CHAPTER 11
“I don’t care what you think, Ray! I want you to send that letter, and I want it sent today! I want her to have it in her hot little hands by tomorrow morning. She destroyed my property. She owes me some money, and I want it!” With that, Thad hung up on Ray, not giving him a chance to respond. He didn’t want to hear that he was making a big mistake. Even two days after storming out of her house, he was still angry with Darnell, and he wanted to savor that anger.
Stalking through the house, he looked for his favorite sunglasses, but couldn’t find them. Grabbing another pair, he headed out the door. Maybe a good run was what he needed to work off some of the nervous energy he was feeling. In the time since he left Carmel, nothing in his life seemed to work.
Thad ran along the Bay shoreline, forcing himself not to think about Darnell Cameron. As he passed an early morning sun worshipper stretched out on a blanket, a radio resting beside him, Darnell’s voice interrupted the early morning calm. The sound settled like a dull ache in Thad’s pounding heart. She had sung that song to him the night they had spent together in the mountains. He had been the first person outside her recording studio to hear it. It had been a humbling experience, but she wasn’t humb
le. Darnell was spoiled, selfish, conceited, and rude! He would have thought that her mother had raised her to have better manners! Anger flared anew.
The woman would have to get on her knees and beg for his forgiveness if she ever wanted to see him again. With that thought, Thad ignored the pain of missing her, picked up his pace, and continued running.
Returning home, he showered, ate, and wandered his large house aimlessly, finally drifting upstairs to settle on the balcony outside his bedroom to read. It was a book that he had been discussing with Darnell, and he wanted to finish it so that he could discuss it with—
His mind raced across a long list of acquaintances and a very short list of intelligent friends. Other than Ray, who else did he know who read anything besides the show business newspaper Variety? Certainly not any of the women he dated. He doubted if the majority of them could read. Why did he date those airheads anyway? Sure, they were long on looks but definitely missing key elements of gray matter. He would be insisting on some intellect when it came to choosing women from now on. Darnell had said that he could do better.
Thad sat straight up. Oh, no! He was quoting her now! He fell back in the chaise lounge and groaned. Had she brainwashed him? What next?
With a heavy sigh, he wandered back into the house and flopped, belly first, onto his oversize bed. He had to admit that Darnell was brilliant. He had gained a lot from his acquaintance with her—more than he had from any other woman he had known. Thad rolled over on his back and stared at the pattern on his cathedral ceiling. He closed his eyes, disgusted with himself. He was thinking about that woman a little too much. There was no denying that he had wanted her at one time, but that was in the past. Peace and quiet had prevailed since he left her house, and he was enjoying it. Of course, he did miss her a little bit. It was normal to miss a friend. After all, she had been the only woman friend he had ever had outside his family.
He had never thought about having a female friend before, which Darnell would say was another one of his flaws. He could see her now with those graceful fingers curled into fists planted on her hips as she told him about himself. She was something.
Thad swallowed hard. He remembered when they were in Big Sur; she had climbed on some rocks and stood in awe as she viewed her surroundings. She had slipped trying to climb down, and he had caught her before she tumbled to the ground. Her firm breast had pressed against his chest. Those curvaceous hips had molded against him—
Thad’s eyes flew open. He shook his head to clear the vision of her face, the feel of her body, the smell of her hair, of everything about her. He had to get her out of his mind. Getting to his feet, he stumbled to the bathroom and threw cold water on his face. He wanted the voice inside his head to stop repeating her name. He wanted it to stop reminding him that there would never be another woman in his life like her.
* * *
Darnell awoke from a fitful night’s sleep with a headache. She hadn’t been feeling well and had avoided going jogging yesterday, but she was determined to forge ahead on this day. She was rarely sick and took pride in the fact that since her career began, she had never missed a performance.
Pushing herself up in the bed, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was six forty-five. Her body had become a human alarm clock, thanks to Thad Stewart. She shuddered at his name. He used to call around this time just to bug her. Thank goodness that was over.
She sighed. For a while, she’d thought she had found a friend. She had been wrong. The man was mentally unbalanced, and if she lived to be a hundred years old she would never understand him. She still didn’t know what she had done to deserve being treated so rudely the other day, but that was ancient history, and so was he. Ignoring the feeling of loneliness that had plagued her since his departure, she got out of bed to get ready for the day.
She had taken her bath and was dressing when Mrs. Sharon knocked on the bedroom door. She entered at Darnell’s request and handed her an overnight express envelope.
“I just signed for this. It’s for you. I thought it might be important.” Handing the envelope to Darnell, Mrs. Sharon started to leave, then turned.
“I forgot to tell you. The other day after Thad left, some guy who said that he had moved into that house across the street came over to see if everything was all right. I forgot his name.”
“Oh?” The envelope she was holding held Darnell’s attention, and she was barely listening to Mrs. Sharon.
“I told him there was no trouble. Things were fine.”
“All right.”
Knowing that she was preoccupied, Mrs. Sharon closed the door quietly behind her. Meanwhile, Darnell turned the envelope over in her hand, her brow furrowed in question. She noted the return address. It was from Thad’s attorney.
Reluctantly, Darnell opened the envelope, and as she read its contents, she began to see red. It was a bill for $64.86, and with it a letter stating that this was the balance for the cost of one pale yellow, silk blend sweater, ruined a few weeks ago by Darnell Cameron. The letter demanded payment immediately and threatened action in Small Claims Court if it was not received within forty-eight hours.
That cinched it. Thad was certifiably insane! What else would have possessed him to pursue such foolishness?
Beside herself with indignation, Darnell was unable to sit still. Donning a skimpy jogging suit, she left the house and started to run the beach, trying to ignore her aching head. She didn’t get far. She felt dizzy and nauseous. That did it! Thad Stewart was making her sick.
Returning home, she took a shower, then wrapped herself in her favorite robe. After a short nap, she felt a bit better. Going downstairs to the kitchen, she fixed herself a cup of steaming hot tea and plotted her revenge on Thad.
She knew that he would expect her to reduce herself to ranting and raving like a lunatic, but she refused to give him that satisfaction. She could ignore his childish antics, but knowing Thad, despite the resulting media circus, he probably would take this little stunt to Small Claims Court just to win some small victory.
She sipped and thought. Okay, he could have his $64.86. She would pay more than that to get rid of him. She would simply drive to Tiburon and tell Mr. Stewart face-to-face what she thought of him, mincing no words. It would take all of her self-control, but she would remain calm, and it would be she who would have the final word.
Darnell gave a satisfied chuckle. It would be worth the drive just to see the look on his face when she told him off. As the day progressed, however, her delight soon became secondary.
She had traveled through San Francisco and was approaching the Golden Gate Bridge when the headache returned. It was dull at first, and she dismissed it as being caused by tension from the traffic congestion she had encountered on her drive from the Peninsula. By the time she had crossed the bridge, her headache had intensified and her stomach roiled. Desperate, she took the nearest exit. It took her through the tourist hamlet of Sausalito in search of a pharmacy. Maneuvering the crowded streets proved difficult and dangerous as dizziness overcame her. Pulling into the nearest parking lot, Darnell brought the car to a stop and slumped against the seat. She could no longer dismiss how she was feeling. She was sick. She needed help, and she needed it now.
* * *
Thad jumped, reacting to the ringing telephone. He had been on edge all day. He knew that Darnell had received the bill by now and, knowing her, she would be contacting him to let him know exactly what she thought of his actions.
He was surprised that he could think clearly enough to react to anything. Yesterday, Ray had called to inform him that he had followed his directive and sent the letter. Then he had raked Thad over the coals for his “childish” behavior.
“Man, what you’re doing is weak. Anybody would think that you’re a jealous lover or something,” he tossed out before they were disconnected. The comment didn’t upset him. His astute friend hadn’t told him anything that he didn’t already know. Thad had figured out a long time ago that he was
jealous of Lance Austin.
During the time he and Darnell had spent together, she hadn’t mentioned Lance, but he was a silent presence between them. Thad knew the man only through what he had read, and the media made Lance sound as though he were some genius saint. Well, if he was that smart, he would have married Darnell a long time ago. It was clear that Lance was crazy, or even worse, a fool!
Darnell was unique. Unlike too many women in his life, she wasn’t easily swayed by his charm or dimpled smile. She demanded things from him that no woman in his life had ever demanded—intellectual prowess, pride in and knowledge of his heritage, political and spiritual awareness. He respected the woman and he knew in his heart that he would do anything to gain her respect.
Last night, he had been plagued by erotic dreams of Darnell, and he had awakened with his body aching with want and need. The fact that he couldn’t get her out of his head hadn’t improved his disposition one bit. It had only been two days since he stormed out of her house, but Lord, did he miss her. He missed those flashing eyes, the way she tossed her head and sent those sexy braids flying in all directions. He missed the smell of the exotic body oil she wore. The aroma drove him insane.
It wasn’t fair! He had found a woman he could love, and she belonged to somebody else.
The thought of loving her had crossed his mind once before, that night in the Jamaican restaurant, but he had dismissed it. Now, here alone with that thought, it was something he had to examine. Did he love her? He could love her. Yes, he did love Darnell Cameron! He was hooked on a woman who had a long, solid relationship with another man—a woman who, after the stunt he pulled, would never want to see him again.
It was the insistent ring of the telephone that brought Thad’s thoughts back to the present. He sighed. It was probably Darnell. She would be hopping mad and would let him know it, but at least he would hear her voice, even if she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Reluctantly, he picked up the receiver.
Singing a Song... Page 8
