A Lonely Sky (27 page)

“Oh
really
?” Deirdre returned the smile, triumph for triumph. “There’s only one little problem with that plan, Sammy.”

Sam shrugged. Nothing could make him stay with her, nothing.

Deirdre tilted her head to the side, obviously enjoying whatever she intended to throw his way. “If you divorce me, Sam, you will lose your part in the mini-series.”

Sam laughed at the absurdity of her suggestion, but his heart raced as well. The cold look in her eye suggested something sinister.

“You see,” Deirdre began, as if talking to a five-year-old. “You didn’t win that role on your own. Your talent lacks. You needed a little inside help.”

“Bullshit. What the devil are you talking about?”

“Money talks, Sam.” Deirdre ran a blood-red fingernail along the arm of her chair. “Some directors and producers welcome bribes.”

Sam rose from the couch. “You’re a bloody liar. I won that part on my own!”

Deirdre pointed to a phone on the coffee table. “Call your director.”

Sam didn’t need to phone anyone, the look in Deirdre’s eye, and her smug smile told all. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. Perhaps he truly was. “You bitch.”

“Lovely word to call your wife.”

“You’re not my wife.”

“This ring on my hand speaks otherwise.” She waved the fingers of her left hand in the air. The brilliant diamond shone and sparkled as if taunting him further.

“I’m still divorcing you.”

Menace dotted her words. “You lose me, you lose the role, simple as that. It will take just one phone call from me to have you replaced, Sam. No one on that film wants to lose funding from the Lamont family. And if you want to know where my money went instead of paying off Polly’s debts, look no further. Mother and I
bought
you that role.”

Sam listened to her words. She had him and she knew it. If he lost this part, his career would finish before it began. Deirdre could easily blackball his name in the entertainment world, and he wouldn’t put it past her to do it.

“Oh and one other thing.” Deirdre smoothed absent wrinkles from her skirt and folded her hands in her lap. “Get rid of the American chippie.”

Sam smarted at the mention of Julia. “That’s over.” The words burned in his throat.

Deirdre waved a hand in the air. “Easy come, easy go, I say. Especially when they’re so young and easy, Sammy. You should know better.”

He pretended her words didn’t drive a searing spear through his soul.

“So?” She tapped her black pump against the hard wood floor. “Do you still wish for a divorce?”

Sam wished he could kill her. She’d won this round and they both knew it. “I suppose not. Not for the time being, however.”

“I thought you’d see it my way.” Deirdre rose from her chair. “Oh and I think we should keep my helpful hand in your career our little secret, don’t you?” She walked over and placed a rose-scented hand on his hot cheek. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know you didn’t acquire that role based on talent. How embarrassing for you.”

Sam shook his head in agreement. No one could ever know how he stupidly fell for this woman’s ploy.

“Don’t look so glum, Sammy. You’re going to be very happy here, and a very famous actor someday.”

Sam removed her hand from his face. He refrained from grinding the delicate bones into a mound of pulp. She had him trapped, but just for a moment. He’d figure this out, but what he needed right now was time. He may be a fly caught in her web of deceit, but he’d fight with every ounce he owned and escape. For now, though, she must think she had the upper hand.

“My things are in the car. Where shall I put them?”

Deirdre removed her hand from his tight grip. “In our room upstairs, of course, darling. Second room on the right.”

Later that afternoon, Spencer stood in the foyer of Lamont house, a huge bouquet of long stemmed, yellow roses in his arms. He waited patiently as a maid went to find Deirdre and announce his arrival. He imagined she might not wish to see him, so awash in grief and anger would she be now that the whole of London knew of Sam’s honeymoon escape. That little morsel of gossip flew around London society faster than Spencer sent a tennis serve spinning, and he was grateful. With Sam temporarily out of the picture, time bloomed ripe for Spencer to play the stalwart friend, the comfort to Deirdre in her hour of need. Perhaps now she might finally find the love she deserved from the man willing to shower her with it.

“Spencer!” The alto voice booming from the top of the curved stairwell was not the one he hoped to hear. Spencer concealed his shock and disappointment as Sam descended the steps.

“Flowers for me?  You shouldn’t have,” Sam said, as he reached the bottom step.

“Um. No, actually.” Spencer thought fast. “I brought these for both you and Deirdre. I’m sorry to have missed the wedding.” He fought the urge to chuck the flowers in a nearby umbrella holder.

The maid returned. “I’m sorry Mr. Budacker but it seems Mrs. Lyons went shopping.”

“That’s all right,” Sam answered before Spencer could speak. “Mr. Budacker is a friend of mine as well. Spence, hand Minnie those flowers and she’ll see to it that they get in a vase. Lovely thought there.”

“Yes, damn lovely,” Spencer said under his breath. He handed the roses to the maid. As Minnie left, he turned back to Sam. “I thought you were missing in action.”

“Yes, I was.” Sam motioned for Spencer to join him in the parlor. “But I’ve returned.”

Spencer took a seat in the parlor and Sam joined him. Spencer collected his wits as Sam lit his cigarette and sat.

“I just returned from New York,” Spencer said. “I haven’t heard much. I take it you asked Deirdre for the divorce on the honeymoon?”

Sam shifted in his seat. “I didn’t ask her then. But yes, she didn’t uphold her end of the bargain. She supposedly missed a stipulation in her father’s will which says she has to be married for five years before she gets her inheritance.”

Spencer lowered his voice as if the absent Deirdre might still somehow overhear them. If walls could talk, Deirdre could certainly command them to spill secrets. “You’re kidding me, right?” He fought to contain a surprised laugh. Sam would not appreciate the humor.

“No. Believe me, I wish this was all some blasted joke.”

“So then, I suppose when you ditched her on the honeymoon, you came home and started divorce proceedings?” Spencer realized Deirdre might be a free woman sooner than he had hoped. The thought buoyed him.

Sam inhaled long on his cigarette and exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate into the air. “Yes, well, about that. I’ve decided to remain married.”

Spencer’s jubilation turned to maddening disappointment. The room grew warm and his breathing, labored. “You’re bloody putting me on, right?”

Sam rose and began to pace. “Well, the thing of it is-”

“What about Julia?” Spencer couldn’t help but interrupt. “What about all the bullshit you handed me through your whiskey induced haze about her being a part of you and all that?”

“Julia loves someone else!” Sam’s face contorted into a palette of angry color as he punched a wall, hurting his hand in the process. “She used me for a trip to London, and I fell right into that trap!” Sam crumpled into a heap on the couch and held his injured hand.

“Are you okay?” Spencer pretended to care. His heart felt as injured as Sam’s hand. Silence hung between them, until finally, Sam spoke, quietly and sad. “You see, Spencer. Julia is marrying someone else. She loved him all along, I suppose.” He explained about the phone conversation with Julia’s father.

Spencer listened to Sam, but the knowledge that Sam and Deirdre’s marriage remained intact rattled him to the core. He felt no pity for Sam. “But why stay married? You don’t love Deirdre.”

“No, I don’t.” Sam answered without hesitation much to Spencer’s ire.

“Then why stay married when nothing good can come it?”

Sam sat back and ran his hands through his hair. Spencer noticed the dark rings beneath his eyes. “I don’t have a choice.”

Spencer’s anger exploded. “Don’t give me this insane story that you’re going to stay married to a woman you don’t love! You’ve got a choice! What’s holding you back?  Are you really that hot for your inheritance?  Hell, when you finish the mini-series, you’ll be rolling in the pounds! You won’t think twice about your inheritance!”

Sam stared at him, his face solemn. “I’m not staying married for the money.”

“Then what, Sam?  I don’t get it.” Spencer resisted the urge to shake some sense into the man and twist that damn wedding band off his finger. He knew Sam too well. Something was amiss. Why wouldn’t Sam confide in him?

Sam shook his head and lit another cigarette. “I know this sounds convoluted, but Julia became my life. Besides my acting career, she was all I wanted. I doubt you can understand how I feel, Spencer.”

Spencer blinked in disbelief. “You don’t have a clue.”

Sam continued, lost in thought. “I want to forget Julia and concentrate on my career. Deirdre’s social standing will help.”

Spencer heard enough. He rose from his seat to head for the door. “I have to get out of here.”

Sam seized Spencer by the arm, not allowing him to pass. “Spencer, don’t you get it?  I need to stay married.”

“Then marry someone else, someone you actually love!”

“Spencer,” Sam said, his face desperate. “You’re not understanding me. My career is all I have.
I’ll do whatever it takes to succeed
.”

Spencer shook his head. He didn’t understand Sam’s cryptic talk and his patience had run out. “You’re so blind. You have it
all
, Sam.”

“I don’t have Julia.”

Spencer’s eyes locked onto Sam’s.
And now I’ll never have Deirdre
. “Good luck, then, Sam. Enjoy that career.” He yanked his arm from Sam’s grip and left. 

Spencer all but ran down the front steps, nearly colliding with Deirdre and her many parcels from London’s finest lingerie shop. Their meaning was not lost on Spencer. He cringed at the thought.

“Spencer! Whatever brings you here?  How was New York?” She appeared genuinely happy.

“How was your
honeymoon?”
he said, incapable of reining in the sarcasm.

“I take it you heard then?” Deirdre’s face fell. A slight blush rose in her cheeks as she looked away. “I suppose most of London has.”

Spencer studied the beautiful face that would never be his to wake up beside each morning. “Not to worry. I just had a chat with Sam and I hear all is
brilliantly
wonderful between you.”

She looked away as she spoke. “All is well.”

Spencer stood quiet, unsure how to respond. He wanted to take her in his arms and press those sweet, pink lips into his own and show her what love really was. But instead, he rested his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds hovered.

“It’s such a damn lonely looking sky, isn’t it?”

Deirdre looked up. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He took her free hand in his. “I don’t suppose you ever will. You’re lucky that way.” He stared into her eyes for a moment, looking for the sweet girl from his youth. Where had she gone? 

“Are you all right, Spencer?” The tiniest hint of compassion flickered deep within her eyes. Spencer knew the true Deirdre still existed somewhere behind the spoiled, socialite facade, but her happiness had been buried deep long ago. He wondered why. Without thinking, he tenderly kissed her on the cheek. “Goodbye, Deirdre.”

He dropped her hand and walked away without turning back.

As Deirdre watched Spencer leave, her hand caressed the cheek he kissed; a spark of realization began to burn somewhere in the deep recesses of her heart.

Julia sat in the living room of her three-bedroom home and skimmed through a box of old photographs. With John off shopping for clothes to wear for their upcoming trip to New York, and the children at the neighbors, Julia used the few hours of quiet to work on a project she meant to work on for years, sorting through boxes of photographs and placing them in albums.

She separated the pictures into piles, one for each child, one for herself and John, and everything else landed in another pile she called “miscellaneous”. In this stack she haphazardly threw any photo not belonging in a family category, such as an aged and yellowed envelope. She’d return to it later.

Julia decided to work on Elizabeth’s pictures first. As she opened her eldest child’s album to Elizabeth’s newborn picture, Julia smiled as she remembered the birth. Elizabeth Joan Riley arrived on March 24th, 1981, six days before her due date. A beautiful baby from the start, Julia and John fell in love with her instantly. As Julia held her newborn, all the emotional pain surrounding her arrival temporarily ceased, and Julia basked in the happiness Elizabeth created. John cried the first time he held his daughter, amazed that this beautiful creature was his to raise. He never faltered from his commitment to be her father. Together they so loved this dynamic, happy little girl.