Diamonds Are Forever (36 page)

Dear Gemma,

I hope you’re doing well, sweetheart.  I read in the papers that you got a very impressive job doing the costuming for Burke Faust’s new film.  Louis and I are very big fans of his and we were so happy to brag to our friends that we’ve known the costume designer since she was a young girl.

From my understanding, things didn’t seem to work out between you and Damian and though I don’t know the details, I’m very sorry to hear.  I always thought you two were perfect together.  But whatever it is, know that you’ve always been dear to me and even today, hearing your name warms my heart.

If I could ask you a favor… I know this is maybe too much to ask, but I thought I’d give it a try.  Louis didn’t think it was a good idea, but I’m a worried mother and I will do what I need to do to make sure my son is okay.  Damian hasn’t been himself lately and we don’t hear from him much.  I’ve been getting my updates on him these days from ESPN which no mother should resort to doing, right? I’m not sure where you two stand, but if you could check on him for us, I would really appreciate that.  I know that maybe asking a lot, but please know that I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t a little bit desperate.  I just know something’s wrong.

I’m really sorry to worry you if I did.  Perhaps I am overreacting.  But it’s hard not to.  Thank you for reading, sweetheart, and good luck with everything.

Sending all my love and wishing you the very best,

Helen Evans

~

At the luau, Gemma quickly realized she wasn’t the only one thinking about Damian.  In their seclusion, working the hours they did, it made sense that no one had kept up with what some might consider trivial news.

“How relieved are you now that he didn’t pick the Lakers?” one of the crewmembers had said to another.  “How fucking pissed would you be if he pulled this shit right now on our team?”

“Yeah, man,” said the guy that Gemma recognized as a boom operator.  “And he was like a halfway decent guy for the NBA.  There was no way to guess he’d do this.  Maybe he’s going through some shit.  Or maybe it’s drugs, who knows.”

“Whatever the fuck it is, he’s a pro athlete.  He doesn’t get paid fucking millions to not do his job.  Considering
I’m
angry as hell for the goddamned Knicks fans, I can only imagine how bad they’re raging over there.”

Gemma tried to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to embarrass herself by snapping at them for being so rude.  But she reasoned that they didn’t know Damian personally.  There was no way they could sympathize with whatever it was that he was going through.

She tried to ignore everything, desperate to enjoy her last night in Maui before she returned to the mainland and the cold, wintry mess it probably was.  Plus, now that Damian was in the news as much as he was, and for things that were no longer positive, Gemma realized she’d probably have to deal with having to actively think about him again.  She had been so calm and peaceful in Hawaii.  She didn’t want to relive her heartbreak every time she saw his face on TV or in the news.

Gemma made her way from the outskirts of the lagoon towards the festive setup in the center that had been put out for the cast and crew.  Surrounding the tables and chairs were tall torches, lighting the path to the party as the sun began to set.  As she neared, she spotted Sophie talking to a woman in a coconut bikini top and a grass skirt.  Tyler had mentioned that she would be staying behind in Los Angeles to plan the wedding while they were shooting in Hawaii.  Gemma had wondered if she’d visit at all, considering that Tyler mentioned Sophie had never been.  She was glad to see that she had made it after all, even if it was for their last day.

“Are you married?” the woman in the grass skirt asked Sophie.

“Not yet,” she answered with a smile.

“But you will be soon?”

“Very soon,” Sophie nodded.  The woman in the grass skirt plucked a flower from her basket, putting it behind her left ear.

“So you wear it over the heart,” the woman smiled, folding her hands over her own chest.

As Gemma approached, Sophie spotted her.  She waved, her eyes sparkling excitedly.  Gemma wondered why Tyler thought Sophie would have doubts about the wedding.  She had just observed a very candid display of happiness over the fact that she was taken.

“How about you?” the woman asked Gemma as she approached.

“Not married.  Not getting married anytime soon,” Gemma answered, laughing.

“But are you taken?” she asked, holding a bright yellow flower in her hand.

“No,” Gemma replied, sadly.  In the years following her breakup with Tyler, she had felt fine about being single.  And when she was dating Corey, she had
wanted
to be single.  But now, the thought made her sad.  The woman took the yellow flower, tucking it behind Gemma’s right ear.

Gemma followed Sophie to a table where Tyler, April, and Callum were already sitting.  She took the free seat next to Callum, hoping he wasn’t a basketball fan.  It seemed everyone she passed was talking about Damian and his bizarre behavior.

“We were instructed not to discuss basketball,” Callum said as Gemma sat down.  Gemma glanced up at Tyler who was shaking his head.  Callum seemed to have caught the look he was being given.  “I suppose that meant I wasn’t supposed to mention it at all.”

April simply stared at him.  “You’re what gives models a bad name,” she finally said.  “They assume we’re all dumb as rocks because people like you run around doing things like that.”

“I’m not dumb as rocks,” Callum defended himself.  “I just haven’t socially matured the way I would have liked.”

“
Anyway
,” April cleared her throat daintily.  “Subject change.  Let’s talk about how...” Her lips opened and closed as she tried to think of a topic to switch to.  When she eventually failed, she let her little shoulders slump, shooting Gemma an apologetic look.  “I’m a dumb model, too.”

Gemma laughed, trying to brush it off and look breezy.  But it was hard.  Though Callum ended up succeeding in not mentioning basketball or anything relationship-related, Gemma couldn’t help but feel the weight of knowing that
everyone
else was talking about Damian.  No one seemed to remember or care that Gemma had once dated him, that she would perhaps be offended by what they were saying.  The scandal was far bigger than Gemma, entirely too great to be tactful about – a number two overall draft pick and newly signed NBA
superstar
had just bailed on the New York
Knicks. 
The world was talking, not just the room, and Gemma knew it.

Slumping in her chair, she focused on April and Callum’s stories of the modeling industry and forced herself to care.

But after a couple rounds of spiked punches, the mood of the party shifted.  The sun had set completely and fire dancers had come out, swinging torches lit on both ends and stealing the attentions of the crowd.  Whatever fatigue or gossip that had held the party back had gone down with the sun.  Everyone was on their feet, dancing and celebrating, enjoying the convivial atmosphere.

Gemma hadn’t had a lot to drink.  She had been cautious about her alcohol intake since the lesson learned in Vegas.  Even so, she felt a bit tipsy as she danced with Sophie and April though she thought it probably had more to do with feeling so disconnected from celebration.  She excused herself to take a seat at her now empty table.  Gemma took out her phone, pulling up Damian’s contact.  She knew it would be pointless to call.  She didn’t need to hear that annoying, pre-recorded message again.

“Can I join you?” Gemma locked her phone, quickly, looking up.  Tyler stood in front of her, wearing several layers of flower and Kukui nut leis.  She nodded as he took a seat.  “I couldn’t talk to Callum anymore.  That guy is seriously weird.”

“I know,” Gemma laughed.

 “You know, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since our talk.”

“Yeah?”

“And I realized what I wanted more than anything in the world while you and I were together was what we had in the car the other day.”

“Talking about a wedding?” Gemma questioned.

“Or, you know, just talking.”

“We did that while we were together,” Gemma replied, wondering what he meant.

“Not like that though.”

“Well, of course not like that,” Gemma laughed.  “We were talking about your fiancée and my accidental marriage.  I would
hope
we didn’t talk about those things while we were still together.”

“Funny,” Tyler said with a smile.  “But that’s not what I’m saying.”

“So how are you feeling on the whole wedding front?” Gemma asked.  “Feeling any better there?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Still trying to figure things out but at least I’ve acknowledged it.  And I want to thank you for talking me through things.  I realized while I was in the car with you that I needed to talk to Sophie about it instead of internalizing it and then doing something stupid.”

“Are you referring to proposing to me on live television?”

“Yes,” Tyler laughed.  “And then baiting you into admitting you wanted to break up with me.  Instead of just asking.”

“So we agree that you were the one who initiated the dumping, right?” Gemma asked, smirking.

“Fine, whatever you have to say to make yourself feel better about it,” Tyler smirked back.  His expression fell to a softer smile, contemplative.  He reached forward, taking the flower from behind Gemma’s right ear.  “Do you ever wonder how things would have turned out if you had come after me that day we broke up?”  Gemma tilted her head.  She felt the night breeze carry her hair behind her as she looked at him.

“No,” Gemma finally answered, telling the truth.  Tyler nodded.

“Then you were the one who ended it, officially,” Tyler smiled.  He twirled the yellow flower in between his fingers, narrowing his eyes at her.  “Who ended it between you and Damian?”  Gemma’s eyes widened, surprised that he would ask after telling everyone around them not to bring him up.

“He did,” she answered.

“And did you go after him?” he asked.  Gemma felt a lump rise in her throat. 
Yes.
  She did.  Twice if New Year’s counted.  She felt herself nodding as she looked down at her hands, sitting folded at the table.  Tyler leaned forward, tilting her face up to look at him.  He took the yellow flower and put it back in her hair, but this time, above her left ear.  “I think he might need you to try again.”

KNICKS GET SLAPPED WITH FINES FOR “RESTING” STAR DAMIAN EVANS

The Big Assist

March 3
^rd

Conspiracy’s afoot, and with good reason.  Knicks’ management claims that their starting point guard, Damian Evans, is resting but some are speculating that the team simply couldn’t keep their unpredictable megastar under control.  Now they’re too embarrassed to admit that they made a mistake – in signing him and then in letting the million dollar man just disappear into thin air.

Considering he’s been MIA from the club and party scene – a place he couldn’t seem to keep away from just weeks ago – we might as well assume that Evans is dead at this point.  Seriously.  Something’s up, because when is it ever a good idea to “rest” your very young star player when there is so much of a season left? Especially one in which playoff berth is far from secured?

I’m not the conspiracy theorist type, but there’s something being kept from us fans for sure – and there’s no way that it’s something as simple as the flu or needing rest.  Any thoughts on what it could be? Debilitating secret injury? Binge drinking to the point of uselessness? Copulating to the point of no longer being able to stand?

Honestly, if it has to be one of the above, I hope it’s the last one.

The cabbie outside of JFK airport seemed to recognize Gemma, which was awkward – only because he knew her as “
you
, that girl that fuckin’ Damian Evan married, that fuckin’ guy.”  She had thought for a moment that he wouldn’t give her a ride at all, just for being associated with Damian in any way, but after going off on a minute-long tirade about the luck of the Knicks, he started driving.

It was a good thing he didn’t recognize the address that Gemma had given – Damian’s townhouse.

In the car, she had replied to Helen’s email, assuring her that she would do her best to get in touch with Damian.  When the car pulled up outside of Damian’s Brooklyn townhouse, it was close to midnight.  The residential street was dark and so were all the lights within his windows.

As she approached the stoop, she noticed that someone was sitting at the very top.  The figure was tall, but to her disappointment, female.  In the dimly lit street, Gemma couldn’t quite tell who she was looking at.

“Gemma?” the voice called out, walking down the stairs. 
At least it’s someone you know,
Gemma thought.  She didn’t want to deal with the possibility of running into one of Damian’s new girls.  Her heart couldn’t handle that right now.  And the voice, thankfully, didn’t belong to Clara.  To her surprise, it was a face she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Aubrey,” Gemma said, running up to meet her halfway up the stairs.  They greeted each other with a quick hug and a knowing of what they were both doing there.