She’d almost made to the entrance of the hospital before they spotted her. Somehow it had never occurred to her that any one would even pay attention to this, let alone her. She noticed the large group huddled to one side behind tape.
Claire had almost made it to the walkway under the awning when someone behind that tape yelled, “Hey, you! Aren’t you the one?”
Stupidly, she stopped and turned to him. “The one what?”
“The bimbo that ripped apart Ian and Saxon?” Another yelled.
Claire howled at them. “I am not a bimbo!”
Suddenly there was pandemonium. Lights flashed, microphones were shoved her way and she suddenly realized how completely she was out of her element.
“Did you get knocked up deliberately?”
“Is it true this isn’t even Ian Justyn’s baby?”
“How much money did you ask for not to go public?”
Claire stomped her swollen feet. “You people are disgusting!” She put her hands on her hips when she found them and started screaming. “A man is fighting for his life and all you vultures can think of is slinging dirt?”
“Claire.” She heard the voice coming up behind her.
“Did someone drop the whole lot of you on your heads when you were babies?” She bellowed.
She felt the hand at her elbow. Claire jerked her arm away and took a step toward the paparazzi. “You people make me sick! What did Ian ever do to make you treat him this way?”
“What did he do to you to make you treat him this way?” One woman behind the rope shouted back.
“Just ignore them and come inside.” The voice tried to pressure her.
Claire’s stance would not be broken. “You assholes want a sound bite? Here’s one for you…I made some mistakes. Hell, I made a lot of mistakes, but you people? You make me look like Little Bo Peep.”
“Claire, maybe we should just…”
Still not bothering to see who was in front of the firing squad with her, Claire put up her ‘talk to the hand’, and adjusted her shoulder bag. “I get it. You don’t like me. So what? It ain’t gonna keep me awake at night. I’ve been hated by people a lot better than any of you, a whole lot better.”
“Call me a gold digger and a whore if you like, I don’t care.” She took a breath at the silent crowd. “Seems to me that’s about the only thing ya’ll are qualified to point out.”
“Hey, lady, we’re just doing our jobs.” Someone heckled.
“Suddenly I'm a lady.” Claire whipped her bangs out of her eyes with a toss of her head. “What happened to reporting the truth and not a bunch of crap? I distinctly remember Ian less than twenty-four hours after he came out of a coma promising to tell you everything he knew. You people have the gall to treat a class act like that this way?”
“Nobody’s will tell us anything.” Another behind the rope shouted.
“Did’ja ask or just start yowling like a bunch of hungry strays at a handful of molded meat?” Claire looked over the people behind the rope and took a deep breath. “Fine. What do you want to know?” Before the pandemonium started again she put up a hand. “One at a time. You!” She pointed to the man who hurled the first insult.
“What’s going on with Ian Justyn?” He asked.
“In general or specific?” She curled her lips into a smile. “Hey, you ask a blanket question, you get a blanket answer. I’m assuming you mean why was he rushed to the hospital in an ambulance?” Claire tapped her foot. “I’m sure he’d have something charming and witty to say. I'll let you all know right up front, that’s not me.”
Tippy Shores stepped out of a car and walked up behind David Turner. “What’s going on here? Shouldn't we put a stop to this?”
Turner grinned watching Claire and the reporters. “That was my first instinct. Second time in a day I've been wrong.” He turned to Tippy and took her arm. “I’m getting old.”
Claire pointed at a woman. “You’re from that God awful infotainment thing, right?”
“Uhm…” The woman turned red at the snickers. “I’m lead anchor on ‘Hollywood Today’, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. God you’re awful. Obviously you're doing someone to keep your job. One question, make it quick.” Claire snapped her fingers.
“Exactly what is wrong with Ian Justyn?" She cleared her throat before Claire could quip. “Specifically regarding his health.”
Claire smiled. “It’s one of those good news bad news situations. It could have been life threatening, but almost immediately the doctors diagnosed Ian as diabetic. Once they are able to get the proper balances, sorry not sure of the technical terms, he should be fine provided a few adjustments are made.”
David Turner put his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “You need us to stay?”
She turned to him and waved them off. “I lived with Ian Justyn for eight years. I can handle these morons. Go. Go be with Ian, tell him I’m on my way up.”
As they glided past her Tippy leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Play nice.”
Claire smiled. “You’re no fun.”
She smiled again when she heard Tippy say to David Turner. “I think we found something she can do.”
“Okay, you!” Claire nodded. “You with the really bad face lift…”
No comments:
Post a Comment