Can't Help Falling in Love (21 page)

  
The bored photographers jumped as if someone had just yelled “Fire!” They
rushed to surround the red carpet and bombard the arriving couple with one
flash bulb burst after another as they jockeyed each other to shoot as many
photographs as possible. The photographer for the
Memphis Daily Appeal
was in such a rush to replace the spent bulb in his camera
that he dropped an entire box of spare bulbs. The bulbs popped like gun shots,
and in the excitement, no one noticed one of the dark-suited men in the back of
the room react like a knee jerk and reach inside his coat as if to withdraw a
weapon. The excitement over the arriving couple obliterated all thoughts of
anything else.

    
As if on cue, the piano player began playing the opening bars of the hit song
that had just caused such a stir on
The Ed Sullivan Show.

    
Elizabeth Worthington beamed and cooed to Phillip Samuels, “Darling, did you
put him up to accompanying Allison Webster here tonight? You’re so clever! Not
that she needs anything to attract attention to herself, mind you, but what a
coup for you!”

    
“He’s definitely one of our rising stars,” Phillip replied proudly.

  
  “And hasn’t she done a sensational job getting him on national
television? I can tell she’ll be a force to reckon with in the coming year!”

    
Everyone who had been surrounding
Sharon
was so entranced by the arriving couple
that they inadvertently drifted away from her to ogle, a detail she thought
equal to the historic explosion of the Hindenburg blimp. In one fell swoop, she
suddenly became stepsister
Drizella
to Allison’s
Cinderella, and even tall handsome Guido Rizzo, her date for the evening, was
no match for Allison’s Prince Charming.

    
Since Sharon and Guido suddenly had been abandoned and no one stood beside them
other than two of their cronies, she seethed. Through gritted teeth, she asked
Guido, “How much cash do you have on you?”

    
“A few hundred.
Why?”

    
“When no one’s looking, pay off the
Memphis
Daily Appeal’s
photographer to stop taking pictures of
her for the rest of the evening! I won’t have it!”

    
Allison was not normally one to make a late entrance to an invitation only
event, but because of the unusual circumstances of the day, she could not help
arriving later than others. At that, they had entered the party well ahead of
the actual start of the awards portion of the program.

    
Once the hubbub somewhat subsided, Guido quietly drew the
Daily
News’
photographer aside
and discretely tended to
Sharon
’s demand.

    
The photographer took the cash wad that Guido surreptitiously slipped him, but
he said, “Look, buddy, I’ll take a few more pictures of Sharon Eaton, but it’s
about
nine
o’clock
now, and
we’ve got a
ten o’clock
deadline for the morning paper. They’re not going to hold the presses for me.
I’m leaving at
nine thirty
or as soon as we get pictures of the winners, whichever comes first!”

    
Guido patted him on the back. “Just keep the cameras aimed on
Sharon
as much as you can. Besides, I think
they’re about to hand out the awards.”

    
Allison did not have to meander around the room to mingle with others. For
once, they sidled up to her because they were
only too eager to
rub elbows with the genuine star accompanying her. For his part, he gallantly
deflected attention away from himself. Every time someone began plying him with
questions, he turned the conversation back to Allison and her work as one of
the community’s most outstanding advertising and marketing executives. When he
noticed Phillip Samuels, he asked, “Would you excuse me for just a minute? I’d
like to speak to him.”

    
“Of course!” she said.

    
Marshall Wells came up to her accompanying a charming blonde she had never met.
“Allison, I’d like you to meet Meredith Adams. Meredith, this is Allison
Webster. She’s nominated for Best Print Ad Campaign.”

    
“Pleased to meet you,” Allison said. “It looks like the party’s off to a great
start!”  

   
Marshall
smiled brightly and agreed. “I think so,
too, now that you’re here. Frankly, we were all getting a little sick of
watching everyone buzzing around Sharon Eaton like flies. She’s made sure that
everyone including the reporters knows that her black ruffle bottom dress was
designed by Coco Channel. Frankly, I think it makes her look like
Morticia
Addams in those
New Yorker
cartoons.”

    
“Oh
Marshall
!”
Meredith laughed.

    
“Now that everyone has been welcomed, I can relax and spend some time with the people
I’d like to be with most. You look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you,
Allison!”

    
“Your gown
is
exquisite,
Allison,” Meredith said.

    
“Thank you, and so is yours.”

    
They were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a wine glass being tapped next
to the microphone in front of the lectern. They looked up to see Alan Brooks,
comptroller for B&B Marketing and
AIM
Awards Committee Chairperson, at the
lectern. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he spoke into the microphone, “Welcome to the
10
^th
Annual
AIM
Awards.”

    
Allison felt a strong warm hand gently take hold of her elbow. She was sensed
the faint yet delightfully familiar aroma of
Lentheric
Musketeer Shave Lotion Cologne, and she heard the smooth sexy male voice that
only two hours earlier had sung through millions of television sets whisper,
“Your moment is now.” He kissed her softly on her neck once again, so deftly
that the fleeting second passed unnoticed by others, yet so sincerely that she
could not help but swoon. She was in ecstasy just being near him again, and her
body heat rose several degrees, as always happened when he was so close to her
that he left her bedazzled.       

    
All eyes turned toward Alan Brooks, but Allison wanted only to let her eyes
linger on the face of the man who thrilled her more than anyone or anything
else in the world. Suddenly, winning an award seemed meaningless. She did not
care if she went home empty handed. All that mattered was that the two of them
were together.

    
Alan continued his introduction. “Why is this year’s award presentation held in
the Peabody Hotel’s pool atrium, some of you have asked? I can assure you that
it’s not because we intend to play water polo afterward. Our theme is ‘The
Sky’s The Limit,’ thus the glass-roof atrium locale. The pool water signifies
the world and the public at large, and if you’ll notice, we’ve floated six red
rose bouquets in the water. Those bouquets represent our six winners. The color
red symbolizes your passion for your work, and the flame denotes your fire for
excellence. We’ll now begin the presentation of those six awards . . . .”

    
Allison had to pay attention to the speaker. Doting lovingly on the face that
was only inches from hers, gazing with longing into his misty eyes that would
not stop adoring her, savoring the endearing crinkle that turned up one side of
his mouth, and delighting in seeing the return of that little loose curl that
always seemed to reappear like an old friend on his forehead would have to wait
for another hour. She forced herself to look away from him and at the speaker,
but her attention accidentally snagged momentarily on Sharon, who she saw take
a deep breath and unconsciously lick her lips as if she was starving to finally
be satiated by whatever was about to happen. When
Sharon
turned to fully face the speaker,
Allison noticed that she had a little bit of trouble maneuvering the heavy
folds of her ruffle bottom dress. Guido had to catch her at her elbow and
steady her from actually tripping on the frivolous fabric.

    
“Our first award is for Outstanding Achievement in Television Commercials,”
Alan said. He opened a sealed envelope and then read, “Nominees are Pauline
Bush and Norma Lawrence. And the winner is Pauline Bush for her dazzling series
created for Memphis Ford!”

    
While generous applause accompanied Pauline as she approached the lectern, an
obscure rear door quietly opened and FBI agents Wilkins and Walker
unobtrusively slipped in and blended into the crowd. Pauline was handed a
long-stem red rose and her award, and as all eyes were on her, she wiped away a
tear and graciously bowed.

    
“Our second award is for Most Creative Radio Commercials.” Alan opened an
envelope and read, “Nominees are Xavier Bayne and George Larkin . . . and the
winner is George Larkin for his unforgettable Memphis Philharmonic campaign.”

    
Bighearted cheers and clapping escorted George as he maneuvered through the
crowd to accept his golden statuette. Alan pinned a red rose onto his lapel,
and the throng was so enamored of George that all eyes were on him as he waved
thankfully to them and photographers captured the moment on film. No one got so
much as a glimpse through the shuttered sun windows in the back of flashing red
lights on several police cars that had just pulled up.

    
“Our next award is for Best Billboards,” Alan said. He opened an envelope and
read, “Nominees are Helene Hawkins and
Genevive
Costello. The winner is Helene Hawkins for the Duck and Cover public service
announcement billboards everyone’s seen all over
Memphis
!”

    
An outpouring of appreciation buoyed Helene as she hugged her husband and then
sailed through her friends to the lectern. She nearly knocked Alan over when
she hugged him, and then when he handed her the award, she hugged the statuette
as if the award was a jewel straight out of Tutankhamen’s treasures. When Alan
handed her a long-stem red rose, she comically held it in her mouth while
posing for her portrait. Everyone was so amused by her euphoric antics that
they were completely unaware of Walker and Wilkins giving brief but firm orders
to their counterparts, the bevy of dark-suited unknown men that had shadowed
the entire proceedings.

    
“Our fourth award is the coveted Preeminent Point of Purchase Posters,” Alan
remarked. He opened another envelope and smiled broadly. “Nominees are David
Darrington
and Paul Kelly. The award goes to B&B
advertising’s own Paul Kelly for the Del Valle artwork! Congratulations, Paul!”

    
Kindly kudos and catcalls erupted when Paul fairly leapt from the midst of a cadre
of his pals to the lectern. Alan pinned a red rose on his lapel, proudly
bestowed his award upon him, and profusely patted him on the back. They posed
shaking hands for the photographers, and while their flash bulbs were going
off, a grim-faced Walker and stern-jawed Wilkins maneuvered slowly through the
throng with their eyes steeled on one knot of party goers. 

    
“And our next to last award celebrates the Best Print Ad Campaign of the Year,”
Alan stated. “Nominees are Allison Webster and Mel Weinberg!”

    
Two of the dark-suited men took positions in front of the atrium’s double
doors. Two others blocked the side entrance, and the last two silently
obstructed the server’s entrance, while agents Wilkins and Walker covertly
withdrew a pair of handcuffs from their pockets.

    
Allison felt the strong hand clutching hers raise her hand to his lips. He did
not care if anyone was watching him, as he quietly kissed her hand. “You’re
going to win!” he said in a voice soft and low.

    
Alan tore open an envelope and said, “I know that many of you have especially
been waiting to hear who the winner is for this award. Our esteemed nominees
this year represent the best that our industry offers. I congratulate both of
you, but the winner is . . . .”

    
“. . . Allison Webster!”

    
A happy roar of voices erupted, and their thundering applause nearly deafened
Allison. She heard shouts of best wishes from everyone surrounding her and
instantly became engulfed by her overjoyed friends and associates.

    
Agent Wilkins reached for Agent Walker’s arm and stopped him from moving
further forward. The ovation kept anyone from hearing him whisper “Let her have
her moment of glory. It’s the last she’ll have for a long time to come.”

    
Allison could not hold back tears from filling her eyes, but she glided through
the wall of bodies and reached Alan with a smile on her face. He handed her a
long-stem red rose and gave her the statuette that symbolized her well-deserved
achievement.   

    
Alan waited for the happy hollering to die down, but the clamor continued
unabated. Allison had to dab at her eyes with one of her white-gloved fingers,
and the photographers captured that heart-felt moment in a volley of flash
bulbs.