Diamonds and Dreams

by Brenda Bone

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Why are you still at home?” Brant’s voice came over the phone when he called Lindsay on Monday. “I assumed I’d see you at the awards dinner tonight. Aren’t you coming?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” She was hardly dressed to go to the banquet since she wore faded jeans and a tie-dyed blue T-shirt. Her hair, freshly washed, was dripping wet.

  “Don’t you want to be present to hear them announce the winners?” Brant asked.

  “Not especially. I plan to catch up on housework tonight. WBKB might win for this city’s best radio station, but I’ll bet we’ll get passed over when they announce the winner for Columbus’ favorite radio personality. Mike MacDonald from WQXL won that coveted honor for the past three years in a row.”

  “Maybe this year you’ll be surprised.”

  “It’s possible, but not likely. Desi told me recently that he thinks I’m Mike’s strongest competition. The winners are usually notified before the banquet. No one called me, so I assume Mike won again this year.”

  Brant remained quiet for a few seconds before he suggested, “Even if you’re not interested in the awards ceremony, won’t you come and keep me company?”

  “Well—okay. It’ll take me about thirty minutes to get there.”

  “Fine. See you soon.”

  True to her word, Lindsay, wearing a rose pink sheath dress and looking elegant as if she’d spent all day at the beauty parlor, arrived at the restaurant where the banquet was held half an hour after she spoke with Brant. People gathered in small groups, drinking punch or eating hors d’oeuvres while others danced to loud music. She spotted Brant sitting by a large window beside a stone fireplace.

  “You look gorgeous,” he complimented her, “and you arrived just in time.”

  “For what?” she asked curiously.

  “Look outside. You just missed getting drenched.”

  Glancing out the window, she saw that rain poured down from the dark sky. The wind whipped back the branches of trees and she heard it howling even above the sound of the music. The weather turned violent, but Lindsay felt a wonderful calmness as she noticed the way that Brant’s eyes raked over every inch of her body.

  “Let’s dance,” he invited. “It’ll give me an excuse to hold you in my arms.”

  Leading her onto the dance floor, he held her snugly and she thought how wonderful her face felt against his warm neck. Ripples of excitement shot through her as his hard form brushed against her, but too soon she heard him say, “They’re getting ready to announce the winners. Let’s sit down.”

  Lindsay sipped tea slowly and paid little attention until the announcer declared the winner in the favorite deejay category. “Congratulations to Brant Diamond!”

  Her eyes darted accusatively toward Brant. He rose and didn’t look at her as he accepted his award and delivered a brief “thank you” speech. Her first reaction after she recovered from the initial shock was that she felt depressed by her own failure. Why did the judges not consider her for the honor? Was it because she’d been afraid to take chances the way Brant did?

  Returning to the table, Brant leaned forward to gauge Lindsay’s reaction. “Congratulations,” she said icily.

  He wondered if she meant it or if she was too proud to let any resentment she might feel toward him show. After the banquet Brant walked with Lindsay to the parking lot that was spotted with messy mud puddles. “Before tonight, you didn’t think I had a chance of winning, did you?” he asked bluntly.

  “Not really,” she replied, “especially since you haven’t worked very long in this city.”

  “Then you don’t feel angry or threatened because I won?”

  “No. You inspire me.”

  “Inspire?” He didn’t follow her line of thinking.

  “After I examined the reasons behind your success, I understood what changes I need to make so that my own career blossoms. I think of failure as a teacher, not an enemy.”

  “You didn’t fail at anything, Lindsay.”

  As she started to get into her car, he said, “Thanks for coming tonight. I wanted you to be here when I accepted my award. I’m glad you’re not bitter. I want us to work things out.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m glad. Goodnight, Lindsay.”

  Sliding into the driver’s seat of her BMW, Lindsay struggled to start the engine, but nothing happened. Brant opened the trunk of his car and took out some jumper cables which he hooked up to hers, but he had no luck in starting it, either.

  “You need to call a tow truck and have them take it to the nearest garage,” he said. “I’ll drive you home.”

  “Thanks.” Lindsay looked back at her car and frowned, then she walked across the lot with Brant.

  “I’m glad the rain finally stopped,” he commented as he drove. “Like most people, I feel better when the sun’s out rather than when it’s cloudy.”

  “Columbus usually doesn’t get as much rainfall as we’ve had so far this summer.”

  “Uh, oh. Speaking of rain, look what’s ahead.”

  Flashing yellow signs warned that flooding washed out the bridge they needed to cross. “There’s probably an alternate route we can use,” she said. Yet when Brant tried to take it, he found that the flooding also occurred there.

  “The way traffic is tied up, we’ll be here all evening,” he pointed out. “There’s a hotel close-by. We’d be wise to park the car while there’s still space in the lots and try to check into a room before the other motorists beat us to it.”

  “You’re probably right.” First, her car didn’t start; now they were stranded. What else could go wrong?

  Brant stopped the car at the side of the street and called the hotel to inquire if they had any vacancies. “Don’t forget to make my reservation, too,” Lindsay reminded from her open car window.

  “I took care of everything,” he said when he returned.

  He drove to a 21-story hotel and she waited as he picked up the keys at the front desk. When they reached the ninth floor, he used the key to unlock the door of room 909, and motioned for Lindsay to enter. She stepped inside the room adorned with gold and white striped wallpaper and asked, “Is this my room?”

  “It’s our room.”

  Fear knotted inside her stomach. “But I never agreed to share a room with you!”

  “If you want shelter for the night, you have no choice. This is the only room left and there’s not another hotel for miles.”

  He made himself comfortable in a gold armchair, but she remained near the doorway. “I don’t feel good about this, Brant.”

  “You were at ease with me earlier. Why not now?”

  “You know why.”

  “Close the door and relax, Lindsay. We can’t do anything about your car until morning and we can’t stop the rivers and creeks from overflowing, so relax and accept our present circumstances.”

  This is never going to work, Lindsay kept warning herself as she listened to him call room service and order two dinners since they arrived too late to eat at the awards banquet. If only I’d stayed home tonight, I wouldn’t be in this predicament!

  “Someone will deliver our meals in about twenty minutes,” Brant said, switching on the radio.

  “You’ve tuned in to WQXL,” she said, finally sitting down on the edge of the double bed at the center of the room. “Shame on you. Where’s your loyalty?”

  “It pays to check out the competition often in order to stay on top of it. Besides, this slow, mellow music soothes me as much as being near you does.”

  She laughed. “How can you say that and mean it? When we’re together, we usually disagree on about everything.”

  “Perhaps, but there’s never a dull moment, is there?”

  “No,” she admitted, “yet there are times, especially at work, when I wish we could settle our differences peacefully instead of provoking each others’ tempers.”

  “If I’m too hard on you at the s
tation, I hope you’ll be patient with me.” He surprised her by his change in attitude. “I sometimes feel like I’m under so much pressure to be a perfect radio host who, according to Desi, isn’t permitted to make any mistakes, at least not publicly. As much as I love the job I do, I wish I could sail away in a hot air balloon and forget about work sometimes.”

  “We all need to get away from time to time. Here in Columbus, the city grows at such a rapid pace that there’s more pressure and stress than ever. I jog and exercise often to release my anxieties.”

  There came a tap at the door and a waiter delivered their meals. Brant opened the door as the young man wheeled a service cart into the room, and then handed him a crisp bill for his tip.

  “Thank you, sir!” The happy waiter smiled before he made his exit.

  Brant moved two chairs around the cart and sat across from Lindsay. She unfolded her napkin over her lap as he lifted the lids off their plates. “The sole is delicious,” she commented after swallowing a few bites, “and so is the white wine. I like the way it tastes smooth with a whisper of sweetness.”

  “1969 was a good year. I ordered the best wine in the house to impress you, but that was foolish of me, wasn’t it?”

  “Sort of, but I’m flattered you wanted to please me.”

  “I was right in the first place about you. It takes more than wealth, position and sophistication for a man to capture your interest, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Much more.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off her as he slowly chewed his food. Finally he asked, “Just what kind of a man would you want to fall in love with?”

  His question struck her as being an unusual one, but she answered anyway. “I want a man who’ll love me for myself, one who’ll accept my shortcomings rather than expecting me to be perfect. Someone I can respect as well as love, a man who is compassionate and understanding. One who’s willing to stand up for his convictions and be loyal to them.”

  He chuckled. “You’re like my mother. She used to tell me that she wanted the woman I’d marry someday to possess those same qualities.”

  “You were close to your mom, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. To be honest, Lindsay, since we were competitors, I tried not to like you when we first met. In some ways, though, you remind me so much of the woman Mom always hoped I’d meet someday. It was impossible for me to not want to take a deeper look at you.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  Very glad, she thought, but why? Why did it make her so happy that she tingled inside just to hear him say these things?

  As he started to eat his slice of cherry cheesecake, she glanced at him, then stared dreamily down at her own plate. If her parents became acquainted with Brant, what would they think of him? Surely they’d like him as she did and probably also appreciate his forth-right manner along with his generosity toward others.

  “Finished?” he asked after she cleaned her plate.

  “Yes. Dinner was wonderful.”

  “And so are you.” He stood and helped her out of her chair before he pushed the cart to one side of the room. “I noticed earlier that there’s a recreational area open day and night. Want to play some table tennis?”

  “Sure. What harm can a little more competition between us do?”

  He laughed, slipping his arm around her waist as they headed toward the door. “I couldn’t wish for a nicer opponent.”

  After beating Brant four out of five games, Lindsay grinned when he finally laid down his paddle and waved his hands in defeat. “You give up too easily,” she told him.

  “Only on inconsequential things. When there’s something I can’t bear to lose or live without, I’d travel to the ends of the earth to have it.”

  Catching him looking at her rather oddly, she wondered if his words contained a personal meaning. She couldn’t prevent herself from hoping they did.

  When Lindsay and Brant returned to their hotel room, he paused after closing the door. Gently he took her hand and led her toward the bed. “It’s late. Now comes the time I’ve waited for all evening.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you!” she blurted out, disappointed that she suddenly felt in an awkward position with him again.

  “Why? Do you find me unattractive?” he asked in a hurt tone, releasing her hand.

  “Not at all.”

  “You don’t want to become intimate with a man unless you’re in love with him?”

  “Right. A long time ago I made up my mind that casual sex would never be for me.”

  She expected him to laugh, yet he didn’t. “The man you decide to love will be a very lucky fellow. After my college graduation, I searched nearly everywhere for a woman who’d be that loyal to her man, but I never found one—until I met you.”

  “You mean you agree with my views on love? Then why did you--?”

  She left the sentence unfinished, but he answered the question that he guessed she wanted to ask. “Since I left Louisiana, I dated many women, but I’m ashamed to say I never loved any of them. Deep in my heart, I always wanted more than any of them offered me. Many people labeled me a ‘swinging single,’ but the truth is I’ve been close to only one woman. She deceived me before we went through with our wedding plans.”

  “You should be thankful you discovered she was the wrong woman before you made the mistake of taking her as your wife.”

  “Yes, for that I’m grateful. Since then, it’s been hard for me to believe in the integrity of any woman. You’re different, though. Despite the fact that we probably should consider ourselves rivals, I feel as if I could trust you with my life. Don’t you sense a special closeness between us, too?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “but I fear what I’m starting to feel for you is stronger than mere physical attraction or friendship. Much stronger.”

  What was she getting herself into? She scolded herself for replying so bluntly.

  “Good. I’m falling in love with you, Lindsay. That’s why I suggested we share the bed. I want us to become as close as two people can get.”

  “We still don’t know each other as well as we should. I want proof that a relationship between us would work before I plunge into it.”

  “But there are never any guarantees in this life. Do you think there’s even the slightest chance for us to become a couple in the future?”

  “While I care a lot about you, we need to not rush things. At the present, you and I are different in too many ways.”

  “You’re right, but if we both make an effort to understand each other better and concentrate on our common goals, don’t you think building a closer relationship is at least worth a try?”

  “We’ll see.”

  He seemed content with her answer and strode across the room to pause at the window and gaze at the twinkling neon lights of the city. When she knew he couldn’t see her, she let her eyes rest on his profile and thought how he had a nearly perfect body like an athlete’s besides his strikingly handsome face. Probably there were hordes of women who would have taken advantage of the situation in which she and Brant found themselves embroiled tonight. She wasn’t one of them. Determined to settle for only the best out of life, she refused to surrender her inner feelings of desire until she was satisfied with every aspect of her relationship with Brant.

  Turning, he pulled back the green and gold floral print bedspread and yanked away one of the sheets, then picked up a pillow. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” He spread the sheet over the plush carpet. “You can have the bed.”

  “Thanks.”

  As soon as he settled beside her on the floor, she switched off the lamp, climbed on the bed, but left on her clothes. The sheets felt cool against her neck and bare arms; the pillow case smelled pleasantly of lavender. She heard the floor creak as Brant tossed and turned.

  “Is it terribly uncomfortable down there, Brant? If you like, I’ll give you my pillow.”

  “Keep it. I’m fine, despite the fact that we spent the entire ev
ening alone in the room and I haven’t kissed you once.”

  The flashing lights outside allowed her to see that he now knelt beside the bed and was just inches away from her face. “Lindsay?” he asked in a voice that was almost a whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “May I at least kiss you good night?”

  For a moment she suspected that he had intentions of trying to seduce her although he seemed understanding earlier. No, that won’t happen. Brant respects me, she assured herself, raising the top half of her body and leaning toward him.

  He proved that he did by placing his lips tenderly over her mouth, then patting her cheek before he dropped down onto the floor again. When she told him they wouldn’t both sleep in the bed, he expected that he’d spend part of the night taking cold showers. Strangely, he experienced a deep sense of satisfaction just to be near her. He loved touching her, kissing her, but these gestures couldn’t begin to compare with his rising emotions. Not since before he witnessed Dan’s accident had he relaxed as much as when he was with Lindsay. He closed his eyes and was lulled to sleep by the humming sound of traffic outside.

  Brant was gone the next morning when Lindsay awakened. He left a note, informing her that he arranged with the garage for someone to repair her car and deliver it to her home. He also scribbled the message that they could cross the bridge around noon. She stretched and glanced at her wristwatch. It was almost noon now.

  As she smoothed the bedspread, Brant quietly entered the room. “Good morning, Beautiful. Time to check out and return to the real world.”

  She didn’t want to admit it, but she almost regretted leaving since the time they spent alone had been precious to her. “Thanks for taking care of everything concerning my car,” she told him. “May I impose upon you one last time and ask you to give me a ride home?”

  “You never impose when you ask me to do favors for you. Of course, I’ll take you home.”

  They enjoyed breakfast together and on the way to Lindsay’s house, she told him all about her latest purchase—a sophisticated new digital audio mixer. “Come inside and see it,” she said when he turned the car into her driveway.