The Moth and the Flame
Jacqueline Stanton sat at a grimy table in a seedy bar, nursing a glass of unpalatable wine while she waited for the band to appear. She had been there only ten minutes, and already two blue-collar Romeos tried to hit on her. Although she despised such tawdry places, she had to admit that they were often fertile breeding grounds for undiscovered, raw talent. Just as she drained the last of her drink, five young men walked on stage. She previously heard a demo they had recorded for Black Swan Records and was impressed by their sound. Before she considered signing any new artists, however, she always insisted on seeing them perform live, for there was no better way to judge audience reaction to their music and, more importantly, to their stage presence.
The house lights dimmed, and the band broke into a hard rock classic. Jacqueline listened with a critical ear. Like a lot of young bands, they sacrificed the melody and lyrics in favor of sheer volume. Still, there was no denying that they were good—not great, but good. Should she choose to sign them, she would make them great.
As her partner, Niles, always said, "Great talent is never born. It can only be created by skillful management."
Jacqueline remained in her seat for the entire set, closely watching the faces of the people in the audience, particularly the responses of the younger women. Most of them could not take their eyes off the lead singer.
There is definite potential there, she thought.
After their performance, the last of the evening, the five members of Lost Horizon crowded into the small backstage dressing room.
"It's hot as hell in here," complained Miguel Marcos, the band's drummer. "Can't we open a window?"
Lead singer Lee Robertson took big, thirsty gulps from a cold bottle of Dasani and then poured the rest of it over his head, letting the water mingle with the perspiration on his face.
"Sorry, man, this window is the kind that doesn't open," he said, not bothering to dry his hair. "Besides, even if it did, I doubt it would make it any cooler in here."
Lee, spent from his exhausting performance in front of the hot lights of the smoky, sweltering bar, looked around the shabby little room. Its unadorned cinderblock walls, scratched and pitted secondhand furniture and stained, ripped carpet were not much different from those in the Boston slums in which he had grown up.
"Hey, Lee, wanna go to the Wharf tonight?" bassist Ozzy Ziegler asked. "Ally and a bunch of her sorority sisters are having a clambake. All the cold beer you can drink!"
"Nah, I'm drained. Maybe next time. Give my regards to Ally, though," he replied as he headed for the door.
He opened it just as Jacqueline Stanton raised her hand to knock.
"Hello," she said with a bewitching smile. "You're just the man I wanted to see."
She lowered her hand and offered it to him. Lee was not sure if he should shake it or fall to his knees and kiss it. Before he could take action, however, she took his hand and shook it firmly.
"I'm Jacqueline Stanton of the Stanton-Kelloway Agency."
"Is this a joke?" Lee laughed.
Everyone in the industry knew that Stanton-Kelloway was the most successful management team in the music business and represented some of the biggest names in rock 'n' roll.
"No, it isn't a joke. I assure you," she replied and handed him a business card taken from her Gucci bag. "I've heard a lot of good things about your band, so I came down to see you for myself."
Jacqueline could see two of the other band members in the room behind him. It would not be long before one or both of them became aware of her presence.
"Why don't we go somewhere a little cooler where we can talk?" she suggested. "Just the two of us."
The well-dressed young woman led the perspiring lead singer to a chauffeured limousine that was waiting at the curb.
"Take us to Pendragon," she instructed the driver, as she and Lee got into the back seat where a bottle of Dom Pérignon was chilling on ice in a silver bucket.
"Want a drink?" Jacqueline offered.
"No, thanks. I'm fine. I hope this place we're going to isn't too fancy," he said, indicating his sweat-soaked T-shirt.
"Don't worry; they'll let us in. I own it."
On the chance that she would need to take notes, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a leather-bound notebook and Mont Blanc pen.
"Now, tell me about yourself, beginning with your name," she instructed.
For the remainder of the evening, Jacqueline talked of nothing but her future plans for Lee and his band. She spoke glowingly of recording contracts, music videos and world tours.
"Of course, we'll have to clean you up a bit," she noted, eyeing him as if he were a used car she was considering buying. "Grunge went out with Nirvana. And you'll need a new wardrobe. But don't worry; I'll take care of that. I know a young designer who owes me a favor."
"I haven't got enough money for a new pair of jeans much less an entire wardrobe."
"Not now you don't, but you will. Until then the agency will pick up the tab. All you have to do is sign a contract with us. Agreed?"
"For what you're offering me, I'd sell my soul!" the young singer laughed.
* * *
Lee woke up early, showered and dressed with unusual care. Twenty minutes later, Jacqueline's Ferrari Spider pulled up in front of his apartment. He grabbed his jacket and duffel bag and ran out to greet her.
"Congratulations!" she said, handing him a copy of the fax she had received only minutes earlier. "Your CD has hit number one."
He cried out in exhilarating triumph. His career was progressing just as Jacqueline had predicted.
"Wait until the guys hear about this."
"Speaking of which ...," she began.
"I don't want to talk about that now," he insisted, his joy quickly diminishing.
If he had any regrets about his dealings with Stanton-Kelloway, it was Jacqueline's treatment of the other four members of Lost Horizon. She had made it clear to them all before they signed with the agency that she would focus attention on Lee.
"But the guys and I are like family," he had protested. "It just wouldn't be right to make me the star and them nothing but backup musicians."
Jacqueline shrugged indifferently, put the unsigned contract back in her briefcase and headed for the door.
"Wait!" Lee called. "Can't we talk about this?"
"There's nothing to discuss," she said, inwardly congratulating herself on her successful bluff. "If you want Stanton-Kelloway behind you, you'll have to do things my way."
The five young men looked at each other helplessly. Ozzy finally spoke up.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I could sure use the money. Ally thinks it's time we got married."
Miguel, too, was anxious to sign.
"Hey, I don't want to spend the rest of my life playing third-rate bars. If the lady wants to shine the spotlight on you, it's okay with me. Besides, it's always a dynamic frontman that makes a band a success. Just look at Mick Jagger, Bono, Freddie Mercury and Eddie Vedder."
It was Lee who objected most to his being given star billing, whether from guilt or a deep-rooted fear of failure, he was not sure. It was Jacqueline who finally convinced him to compromise his principles. From the minute he saw her at the door of that dingy dressing room, she had woven a web of enchantment around him. She was unlike any woman he had ever met: intelligent, sophisticated, ambitious and, above all, beautiful. He would do anything she asked.
Once Lee and his friends put their signatures on the contract, Jacqueline moved with the speed of a Triple Crown winner. The singer's hair was professionally styled and his clothes custom tailored by Jackie's designer. He was photographed, coached and paraded before the young female population. Even before interest in Lee began to take seed, Lost Horizon was sent into the recording studio, and a young genius from Hollywood was flown in to produce a music video. In less than a year from the time they signed with Stanton-Kelloway, Lost Horizon had a number one CD.
Throughout those grueling months, Lee had seen a great deal of Jacqueline who seemed to take a personal interest in every facet of his career. She became the Professor Henry Higgins to his Eliza Doolittle. Now he and Jacqueline were on their way to her family home in Newport, Rhode Island, for a meeting with the president of Black Swan Records.
As the Spider sped north on I-95, Lee stared silently out the window.
Here we go, again, Jacqueline thought as she observed the singer's sullen attitude.
She enjoyed the excitement of her profession and relished the challenge of taking a lump of carbon and polishing it until a diamond appeared; but she did not like having to deal with the insecure, neurotic, egotistical personalities of the musicians.
Neither of them spoke during the last forty miles of the trip. Finally, Jacqueline pulled the Spider into the garage of a huge Gilded Age-era mansion on Ochre Point Avenue.
"This is your place?" Lee asked with an appreciative whistle.
"It's been in my family for generations. The Stantons may not have come over on the Mayflower, but we were here before the American Revolution. My ancestor was a sea captain who settled in New England in the 1690s."
"What do you do with this place when you're in New York?"
"My domestics, Mr. and Mrs. Asher, live on the third floor. They keep an eye on it for me."
The interior design was as impressive as the outside of the house. Fine antique furniture, Persian rugs and costly Oriental pottery—all tastefully and, no doubt, professionally arranged—filled each room.
"I couldn't begin to imagine what it must have been like to grow up in an environment like this."
"This wasn't our main house. My father had a business in Boston, so I grew up in our Beacon Hill townhouse. During the summers, we usually stayed on Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard. We only came to Newport for weddings, funerals and family reunions. My parents gave the place to me when I graduated from Harvard."
"Nice graduation present! It must be worth several million."
"It is. But it must stay in the Stanton family, so legally I can't sell it—not that I would want to."
"I guess with what you make at the agency you don't really need the money."
Jacqueline's laughter was like music to his ears.
"With all of the trust funds my family set up for me, I don't even need the money I earn at the agency. I don't work to support myself. I do it because I love the job. The incredible feeling of power to hold someone's career in the palm of your hands is amazing."
"Is that why you got into the business in the first place?"
"No. Niles Kelloway came to me with the idea for the agency. He had the know-how and the connections, and I had the financial backing, so we became partners. He taught me everything I know."
"Will I ever get to meet him?"
"Sure, if you want to. The two of you will probably get along famously. He was quite a talented musician himself when he was younger."
"Oh really? What band did he play for?"
"He and three of his friends formed a group in London. They came to this country in the early Seventies, hoping to get in on the tail end of the British Invasion, but they never quite made it. After a year or so of dead ends, the group decided to pack it in and go home—all except for Niles. By that time, he realized he could make more money behind the scenes than in front of the lights."
Despite its less-than-perfect start, the rest of the weekend was one of the best Lee had ever had. Black Swan, with which Lost Horizon originally had only a one-record deal, offered him a lucrative contract for the band's next three albums.
After the president of the label and his wife departed, Lee was left alone in the house with Jacqueline. The elegant hostess poured two glasses of wine and sat next to Lee on the sofa.
"That was quite a generous offer for a relatively new band. Black Swan must be expecting great things from you."
"I hope I don't disappoint them—or you."
"Me? I'm not expecting anything out of you, except that you honor your contract."
"Whether you expect it or not ...," he began.
Then he leaned forward and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Jacqueline pulled away.
"Whoa! Don't head in that direction, Lee."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, I'm fifteen years older than you. More importantly, I don't believe in mixing business with pleasure."
Lee was not to be dissuaded.
"I love you, Jackie. I don't give a damn about the money or the fame. It's you I want."
"Please stop this! It can only end in disaster."
"It's too late. I want you; and if I can't have you, I don't know what I'll do."
Jacqueline was frequently forced to make sacrifices and compromises to achieve the pinnacle of success that she had attained. Now she was faced with having to make another. If she did not play along with Lee's romantic game, she could lose all she had worked for in getting Lost Horizon from playing dive bars to recording a hit single.
If I'm not careful, she thought, they'll go down in music history as another one-hit-wonder.
* * *
Niles Kelloway sat across the conference table from his partner, Jacqueline Stanton.
"What do you think of the Grammy nominations?" he asked, smiling like the Cheshire cat. "More than half of the artists nominated in the main categories are Stanton-Kelloway's clients. I counted."
"Did you ever notice that as soon as they win a Grammy, the ungrateful bastards usually start complaining about their contracts?" Jacqueline asked, changing the subject. "Do they honestly believe that they earned the award based on their talent alone?"
Niles gave her a worried look.
"Having trouble with one of your clients?"
"It's nothing I can't handle."
"If it gets to be too much for you, let Levine handle it. He's got some extra time on his hands now that Faustus has gone into retirement."
L.J. Holmes, better known to the world of hip hop as Faustus, had ingested one too many illegal substances during his short career and was now playing bingo in a private sanitarium in Colorado.
"I think I've been in this business long enough to know what I'm doing."
Niles was the last person she would confide in regarding her relationship with Lee Robertson.
When Jacqueline returned to her office, her private line was ringing. She knew it was Lee before he spoke.
"Hello," she answered, keeping her manner cool and professional.
"I've been calling all evening. Where were you?"
"In a meeting with Niles."
"At this hour? I thought you and I were supposed to go out tonight to celebrate my Grammy nomination."
"I have a business to run, Lee. You're not the only client Stanton-Kelloway has, you know."
"I'm more than just a client, Jackie."
Annoyed by his possessiveness, she leaned back in her desk chair and closed her eyes.
"Look, I've got a splitting headache. We'll have to reschedule."
"Why don't I just meet you at your place? I'll massage your temples for you."
"Not tonight. Look, I gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow"
She hung up the telephone without waiting for a reply.
As the weeks went by, Lee became more demanding, and Jacqueline became more desperate to end the relationship—one she had been forced to enter into to keep Lee from throwing away his career. She was relieved that Lost Horizon was scheduled to go on tour and that Lee would not be back in New York until two weeks after the night of the Grammies. It would be heaven to get her life back, to be able to come and go as she pleased without having Lee question her whereabouts.
* * *
Jacqueline worked late the evening before the Grammy Awards ceremony. Her meeting with Ira Levine did not end until after midnight.
"That'll be all for tonight, Ira," she finally announced wearily.
"I'll have those recording dates on your desk by noon."
"No need to rush. It can wait until the end of the week. Besides, I won't be in the office tomorrow. I'm taking the day off."
"What!" Ira exclaimed with surprise. "Since when do you ever take a day off?"
"I have to attend the presentations tomorrow night, so I'm going to spend the whole day at Elizabeth Arden. I feel the need for a complete makeover."
"Don't think I'm trying to butter up the boss, but if there was ever a woman who didn't need a makeover, it's you."
"Ira, dear, I do believe it's time you had another raise," she chuckled. "Anyone who thinks ...."
Jacqueline was interrupted when the door to her office was thrown open. Lee barged in, carrying a bottle of champagne and a dozen red roses.
"Surprise! Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were alone."
He put the bottle on the credenza and offered his hand to Ira.
"You must be Mr. Kelloway," the singer said.
"Lee, this is Ira Levine, one of our most experienced agents."
The two men shook hands.
"It's nice to finally meet you," Ira said and then turned to Jacqueline. "I'd better get home before my wife sends out a search party. Good luck at the Grammies, Lee."
"Thank you."
As soon as the door closed behind Ira, Jacqueline angrily confronted the musician.
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Charlotte."
"I canceled the show so I could attend the Grammies."
"You did what?" she screamed at him. "How dare you cancel a concert without consulting me?"
"Come on, Jackie. It's only North Carolina. It's not like we were playing Fenway Park."
"I don't care if you were scheduled to play before ten people at a bar mitzvah. I set this tour up. If you don't appear as scheduled, it's my reputation that suffers."
"I'm sorry, baby. If it's any consolation, the owners of the venue were very understanding. They realize it's not every day a band is nominated as Best New Artist."
"You've had one hit CD and a Grammy nomination, and already you think you can do whatever you want. Well, you can't."
"For Christ's sake! I said I was sorry, what more do you want?"
"Go back to Charlotte and do the show tomorrow."
"I can't. They already booked a local band to fill our spot. Besides, I'm taking you to the awards show tomorrow night."
"Where did you ever get that idea? I've already got plans for tomorrow night."
"What do you mean? How could you make plans for the most important night of my life?"
"I'm going to the Grammies with Niles like I do every year."
"Just tell him you're going with me this year. He'll understand."
"I'm going with Niles," she repeated emphatically.
The following evening Lee showed up at the ceremonies with a curvaceous young blonde on his arm. She was a woman well-known to most of the musicians in the audience, the kind of woman who collected rock stars like little boys collected baseball cards. Lee, however, did not care who or what she was. In fact, he did not care about anything that night. He had partied throughout the day and was still wasted when he got to Radio City Music Hall.
Jacqueline, looking like a high fashion model after her day at Elizabeth Arden, arrived shortly after her client did. She walked down the aisle of the theater on the arm of her business partner. Lee stared at Niles. He had expected him to look like an aging rock star, desperately trying to hold on to his glory days. However, Niles reminded him more of Ronald Coleman or Lawrence Olivier, a sophisticated Englishman who might very well have been knighted by the queen. Sir Niles Kelloway—the title would certainly fit him. His black hair and neatly trimmed beard were sprinkled with just the right amount of gray, his tuxedo was stylish yet conservative and his manners were impeccable. No wonder Jackie looked up to him and respected him as a mentor.
To no one's surprise, Lost Horizon won the Grammy for Best New Artist. Lee managed to stagger up to the stage and accept the award without stumbling. In his brief acceptance speech, he thanked his parents, his fellow band members and Jacqueline Stanton. From her seat in the third row of the lower mezzanine, Jackie applauded loudly. It was as much her victory as it was his.
* * *
The dream of stardom had become a reality, but for Lee Robertson, it quickly turned into a nightmare. The day after the ceremonies Jacqueline informed him quite unemotionally that their personal relationship was at an end.
"I told you that weekend in Newport that it would never work out, that I was too old for you," she reminded him. "I've become set in my ways through the years. I find our relationship too restraining. I can't breathe anymore."
"If that's how you feel, then I'll give you more space. We've got something beautiful between us. Don't throw it away just because you want a little time to yourself."
"It's over, and that's it," she declared coldly.
"You're my agent; we'll still have to see each other."
"As of today, Ira Levine is representing Lost Horizon."
Tears sprang to Lee's eyes.
"What did I ever do to make you hate me so?"
"I don't hate you. The reassignment has nothing to do with our personal relationship. Niles and I only handle new artists. We've both become experts at promoting unknown commodities. Once we feel an artist's career is established, we reassign that client to one of our associates. Lost Horizon is a Grammy winner with one platinum record under its belt and another CD soon to be released. Ira is more than capable of managing you from here on in. It's time for us both to move on."
"Move on to what? I love you. I thought you loved me."
"I like you, but I never loved you. You're a client—that's all."
"Do you sleep with all your clients?"
"No. I went along with the affair to keep you happy and also to keep you out of trouble. I worked hard to get you as far as I did. I didn't want you doing anything foolish to destroy all my efforts."
"You used me!"
"Oh come on, Lee. Stop being so dramatic! You and I had a business arrangement, and you certainly can't say I didn't keep my part of the bargain. Lost Horizon is the hottest band in the country right now. There will be no stopping you—if you play by the rules, that is."
"Rules? What rules?"
"One, stay away from booze and drugs. Two, never cancel shows. Even if you have to crawl onto the stage, you perform. Three, don't think that because you're famous it entitles you to misbehave. No wild parties or trashing hotel rooms. Music is a business like any other; learn to act professionally."
"Like you, you mean? Tell me, Jackie, is it professional to use people and then throw them away when you're done with them? If that's what it takes to make it in this business, then I'll pass."
* * *
Following his split with Jacqueline Stanton, Lee Robertson proceeded to break every one of the rules she had laid down. He burned the candle at both ends and in the middle. Lost Horizon concerts frequently had to be canceled because he was too drunk to perform. Drug charges were pending against him in three states, and two paternity suits were filed in New York.
Finally, one morning Lee woke up in an unfamiliar bed in a strange room, his head splitting from the bottle of Vodka he had drunk the night before. He looked down at the woman next to him; he did not know her name or even remember where he had met her. Quietly, he tiptoed to the bathroom and found a bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet. He took two and washed them down with a glass of lukewarm tap water. Then he let himself out of the apartment before the woman awoke.
As the singer walked down the steps of the old brownstone, he looked in all directions, wondering where the hell he was. He had been so drunk the night before that he could have flown to Tokyo or Sydney and never known it. When he read the street sign on the corner, a tremor shook Lee's heart. He was in Manhattan, and Jacqueline Stanton lived only a few blocks away.
Like a man in a daze, he walked to her apartment, with each step reliving the moments he had shared with her. He kept their affair so alive in his mind that he could still taste her kisses on his lips and feel the warmth of her body against his. He looked at his watch; it was 5:30 a.m. Jackie would just be waking up.
The doorman waved to Lee as the singer passed him on the stairs.
"Good morning, Mr. Robertson. I haven't seen you here in a while."
"I've been doing a lot of touring with the band," Lee replied, giving the man a twenty-dollar tip for opening the door.
He took the elevator to the top floor and stood outside Jackie's door. Finally, he summoned his courage and rang the bell. After waiting a few minutes, he rang it again. Shortly thereafter, he heard the safety chain being removed, and the door was opened wide. Lee felt as if he had been tackled by the starting line of the New England Patriots. Niles Kelloway, clad only in a hastily donned bathrobe, stood in the doorway.
"Lee!" the older man welcomed him warmly, although the two had never actually met. "Come on in. Jacqueline is still sleeping. Was she supposed to meet with you this morning? Funny, she never mentioned it to me."
Lee was nonplused.
"I had no idea that you and she ...."
He could not continue. Niles looked at Lee and read the heartbreak in the young man's eyes. A look of compassion and understanding came over the Englishman's face.
"Jacqueline won't be up for at least an hour. Let me make you a cup of coffee. Then if you'd like, I'll call you a cab."
Lee let Niles lead him down the hall to Jackie's kitchen.
After he'd put the coffee on, Niles said, "I guess you didn't know that Stanton and Kelloway were more than just business partners."
Lee shook his head.
"We don't advertise our relationship, but it's fairly common knowledge. I met Jacqueline when I first came to the States. I was playing bass in a rock group at the time."
"Jackie told me you were once a talented musician."
"I'm afraid her opinion is a bit biased. After all, she was always my biggest fan. We met in Boston back in 1970. Her brother wanted to be a musician, and since I desperately needed the money at the time, I was hired to give him guitar lessons. One day my group was performing at a music festival on the Common, and her brother brought her to meet me. Most of the young girls we played to had their eye on my mate, Brian, but not Jacqueline. She said she always liked me better because I appeared to be the shy one, that I reminded her of George Harrison. Of course, there was nothing between us back then. She was only fourteen and I was twenty-two. At that age, eight years was a big difference."
"When did things change?"
"My friends eventually decided to go back to England. I wanted to stay in the States, so I took the first job that came along. I began working for a record company in New York. That's where I learned how the industry works and got to meet the people who had the power to make and break careers. Intent on opening my own agency, I went to Boston to ask her brother if he wanted to invest in the business. When I got there, however, I learned that he had been killed in a boating accident the year before. I stayed to have dinner with the family that night. Jacqueline was in her last year at Harvard and still living at home. I'd been half expecting the skinny little girl with braces to come gliding into the room on a skateboard. Instead, I sat there like a tongue-tied schoolboy going through puberty."
Niles smiled at the memory. Lee could read in the older man's eyes all the love and devotion that Lee himself felt for Jackie.
"To make a long story short, when Jacqueline heard my idea, she decided to become my partner, both professionally and personally. We've been together ever since."
Lee hung his head in defeat.
"I wanted to marry her," Niles continued. "I even bought the ring—probably still have it tucked away in some drawer in my house."
"Did she say no?"
Niles shook his head sadly.
"I never asked her. You see, there was this singer she was managing at the time, a young kid right out of school, innocent to the ways of the world. He fell in love with her. Sure, she ended the affair as soon as he became a success. But it didn't make me feel any better. Although I never told her that I'd found out about her little dalliance, I did give up any notion of marrying her. I knew I would never be able to trust her, you see."
"Mr. Kelloway, I ...."
Lee was on the verge of telling Niles about his own affair with Jacqueline, but what good would it do? He had no desire to hurt a man with whom, under other circumstances, he might have become good friends. Of course, Niles did not need to be told of Lee's involvement with Jackie. He knew her well enough to suspect the truth.
"This isn't a church, Lee. There's no need for any confessions here."
"It's been a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Kelloway. Can I trouble you to call that cab now?"
"Niles?" a sleepy voice called from the bedroom. "Who are you talking to at this ungodly hour?"
Jacqueline walked into the kitchen but stopped abruptly when she saw Lee sitting at the table.
"Hello, Jackie."
She looked nervously from Lee to Niles and then back.
"I'll go call the taxi from the den," Niles said, tactfully leaving Lee and Jacqueline alone in the kitchen.
"What the hell are you doing here?" the angry agent spat out at Lee venomously.
"Why didn't you tell me about you and Niles?"
"Because it's none of your damned business. I told you that you were nothing but a client. If you've come here to cause trouble between Niles and me, so help me God I'll ...."
"Don't be ridiculous. I won't tell Niles about us. I have a little more compassion for my fellow man than you do."
Jacqueline was visibly relieved. Regardless of her indiscretions, she loved Niles deeply and would not want to cause him any unnecessary pain.
"You don't have to worry about me," Lee said, getting up from the table. "I'm leaving now, and I won't be coming back."
"Do I have your word on that?"
Lee stared down into her cold, unfeeling eyes, as though seeing her for the first time.
"I used to think you were really something special, but you're nothing more than a high-class groupie. No, that's not completely true. Actually, you're more like a moth."
"A moth?" Jackie repeated, cruelly laughing in his face.
"Yeah, a moth. Niles and I—and God knows how many others—are like candles, and you can't resist the flame we give off because you have no light or warmth of your own."
"Don't presume to put yourself in the same category as Niles. You'll never be in his class."
"And neither will you, Jackie," Lee countered. "Neither will you."
* * *
Niles Kelloway and Jacqueline Stanton heard the news on the car radio as they drove to a meeting with their tax consultant.
"The life of yet another rock star has been tragically cut short. Twenty-nine-year-old Lee Robertson, lead singer of the Grammy Award-winning group Lost Horizon, was found dead in his Manhattan apartment this morning by fellow band member Ozzy Ziegler. Robertson, who had been arrested three times for possession of illegal substances, has apparently died from an overdose of barbiturates. Authorities have not been able to determine if his death was an accident or suicide."
"Damn it!" Jacqueline swore angrily as she reached for her cell phone. "I'd better call Ira. He'll need to find a new lead vocalist right away. I'll speak with the head of PR at Black Swan Records myself. If we handle this thing right, we can prevent Lost Horizon from going down the way Nirvana did. Lucky for us, Lee was no Curt Cobain."
"He seemed like such a nice young man," Niles mused. "What a shame he had to die."
"He didn't have to die. Lee just threw his life away."
Niles stole a sideways glance at his partner. He could see no sign of grief or sadness in her eyes. In fact, the only expression on her beautiful face was one of annoyance.
Three days later Jacqueline, Niles and Ira attended their late client's funeral. Jacqueline, looking as stunning as ever in a chic black suit, stood at Niles's side. Despite the close relationship they had once shared, she shed no tears as the casket was lowered into the grave.
You said I was like a moth, she thought as though telepathically communicating with Lee Robertson. Granted, maybe I do live in the light cast by others. Still, I would much rather be a moth than a candle, for candles no matter how brightly they shine will eventually burn out in the end.
After the funeral service, Jacqueline Stanton walked away from the gravesite just as she had walked away from her relationship with Lee—without ever looking back.
Niles opened the car door for her.
"Feel like stopping for something to eat?" he asked.
"Sorry, darling, not today," she replied as she sat in the passenger seat of Niles's Mercedes. "I want to drive over to that new bar on Lower Broadway. They've got a band there that's supposed to be pretty good. One of my talent scouts tells me that the lead singer could be the next Rob Thomas."
Lee Robertson was gone and already forgotten. The candle had gone out; its radiant glow was forever extinguished. Thus, the moth flew toward the light of another.
Salem loves candles (especially when they're on the dinner table).
