Read Online Under the Same Sun (Stone Trilogy) by Mariam Kobras - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mariam Kobras
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shooting. So may I ask about that now?”
A reluctant nod from her, a tightening in Jon’s shoulders.
“How do you feel now? It’s been five months, and your injuries were substantial. The tour is only starting out.”
“I’m fine.” A small smile, a slight softening of demeanor. “I’m looking forward to it, very much.”
This, Parker thought, was like plowing stones. “So what exactly happened? We all saw the footage of the shooting, but you have never given a statement yourself.”
He could see sadness laying itself over her lovely face like a veil. She seemed lost in her memories, reliving that day, living through the hurt again, feeling the pain. Her hand, the one holding the fork until just now, sank to her lap.
“We were awarded Oscars for the movie soundtrack that night,” Naomi said slowly, “Jon and I. We wanted to go out and celebrate. I remember we were standing backstage, debating where to go, and Jon saying to me I should go ahead; he had to do another interview. I remember…” She lowered her head. “I remember kissing my husband and watching him get into the car. And then…” Again she hesitated. “And then I woke up in the hospital, and everything hurt. That’s all.”
“But you do know who shot you.” The moment the words were out of his mouth he could have smacked himself. Her reaction though was interesting. Without moving at all she seemed to gather herself together, removing herself from everyone around her, even from Jon.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Your husband is a very famous man. His affairs before he married you were notorious. How do you feel about this? Being shot down by one of his former mistresses?” He knew right away he had overstepped, and the interview would be ended before he ever got a chance to really talk to her. She did not even have to say or do anything; it was as if Jon was so finely tuned to her that he knew exactly what she wanted.
“I think this is over,” he said, very calmly and courteously but with finality too, “And you’ll have to excuse us.”
“We hardly spoke at all!” Parker felt like a fool. “I’ve hardly asked you anything. This is not enough to write an article!”
“Well, then there won’t be an article, right? It’s not as if we asked for it.” Jon held out his hand to Naomi, who took it without hesitation and rose with him. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Hamilton, and thank you for your interest. I think my wife needs a break now.”
They walked away, his arm around her just like the day in the parking lot of the arena, his head bent toward her. She had his complete attention.
Sal gave him a sarcastic glance as he dropped into the chair Naomi had just vacated. He picked up the cupcake she had been playing with, gave the white icing a brief inspection, and then bit into it with relish. “Normally I don’t eat this sweet stuff,” he said around the cake, “but these are awfully good. You should have one.”
“That wasn’t an interview. That was a farce.”
Sal shrugged. “She really wanted this. She explicitly asked for you. But it seems that in the end she still can’t talk about it. You’ll just have to live with it.”
Resigned, Parker tucked the notepad back into his pocket. Regretfully he gazed at the doorway, wondering if he’d ever see her up close again and wondering, even now, how he could achieve that.
“I would,” he confessed, “really have loved to write her story. There’s so much more here than meets the eye.” He flinched a little at Sal’s loud bark of laughter.
T he room was dark. Someone had closed the balcony doors against the rush hour traffic; it was cool and dim inside, quiet, peaceful.
Naomi pulled her hair out of the band holding it into a ponytail and shook it, as if that simple act could liberate her from her thoughts and the uncomfortable feeling the brief interview with Parker had left behind. She dropped onto the couch.
Jon had closed the door and was standing in front of
A reluctant nod from her, a tightening in Jon’s shoulders.
“How do you feel now? It’s been five months, and your injuries were substantial. The tour is only starting out.”
“I’m fine.” A small smile, a slight softening of demeanor. “I’m looking forward to it, very much.”
This, Parker thought, was like plowing stones. “So what exactly happened? We all saw the footage of the shooting, but you have never given a statement yourself.”
He could see sadness laying itself over her lovely face like a veil. She seemed lost in her memories, reliving that day, living through the hurt again, feeling the pain. Her hand, the one holding the fork until just now, sank to her lap.
“We were awarded Oscars for the movie soundtrack that night,” Naomi said slowly, “Jon and I. We wanted to go out and celebrate. I remember we were standing backstage, debating where to go, and Jon saying to me I should go ahead; he had to do another interview. I remember…” She lowered her head. “I remember kissing my husband and watching him get into the car. And then…” Again she hesitated. “And then I woke up in the hospital, and everything hurt. That’s all.”
“But you do know who shot you.” The moment the words were out of his mouth he could have smacked himself. Her reaction though was interesting. Without moving at all she seemed to gather herself together, removing herself from everyone around her, even from Jon.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Your husband is a very famous man. His affairs before he married you were notorious. How do you feel about this? Being shot down by one of his former mistresses?” He knew right away he had overstepped, and the interview would be ended before he ever got a chance to really talk to her. She did not even have to say or do anything; it was as if Jon was so finely tuned to her that he knew exactly what she wanted.
“I think this is over,” he said, very calmly and courteously but with finality too, “And you’ll have to excuse us.”
“We hardly spoke at all!” Parker felt like a fool. “I’ve hardly asked you anything. This is not enough to write an article!”
“Well, then there won’t be an article, right? It’s not as if we asked for it.” Jon held out his hand to Naomi, who took it without hesitation and rose with him. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Hamilton, and thank you for your interest. I think my wife needs a break now.”
They walked away, his arm around her just like the day in the parking lot of the arena, his head bent toward her. She had his complete attention.
Sal gave him a sarcastic glance as he dropped into the chair Naomi had just vacated. He picked up the cupcake she had been playing with, gave the white icing a brief inspection, and then bit into it with relish. “Normally I don’t eat this sweet stuff,” he said around the cake, “but these are awfully good. You should have one.”
“That wasn’t an interview. That was a farce.”
Sal shrugged. “She really wanted this. She explicitly asked for you. But it seems that in the end she still can’t talk about it. You’ll just have to live with it.”
Resigned, Parker tucked the notepad back into his pocket. Regretfully he gazed at the doorway, wondering if he’d ever see her up close again and wondering, even now, how he could achieve that.
“I would,” he confessed, “really have loved to write her story. There’s so much more here than meets the eye.” He flinched a little at Sal’s loud bark of laughter.
T he room was dark. Someone had closed the balcony doors against the rush hour traffic; it was cool and dim inside, quiet, peaceful.
Naomi pulled her hair out of the band holding it into a ponytail and shook it, as if that simple act could liberate her from her thoughts and the uncomfortable feeling the brief interview with Parker had left behind. She dropped onto the couch.
Jon had closed the door and was standing in front of
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