Private Scandals

shuddering. She would have to go out there soon. Go out and face the audience. They would be waiting for her to make the wrong move, to say the wrong words. If she did, if she made one mistake, they would leap at her like wild dogs.
    And she would lose everything. Everything.
    On wobbly legs, she lunged across the room. Her hands shook as she poured the champagne. It would help, she knew. She’d discovered after years of denial that just one small glass before a show could chase away those cold, clammy chills. Two could ease all those gnawing fears.
    She swallowed greedily, draining the glass, then poured the second with a steadier hand. A third glass wouldn’t hurt, she assured herself. Just smoothing out the rough edges. Where had she heard that before? she wondered as she brought the crystal to her lips.
    Her mother. Good God, her mother.
    Just smoothing out the rough edges, Angie. A couple sips of gin smooths them all right out.
    Horrified, she dropped the full glass, spilling bubbling wine over the rug. She watched it spread, like blood, and turned away shivering.
    She didn’t need it. She wasn’t like her mother. She was Angela Perkins. And she was the best.
    There would be no mistakes. She promised herself that as she turned to the mirror so that her image, glossy and elegant, could calm her. She would go out and do what she did best. And she would keep those wild dogs at bay yet again. She would tame them, and make them love her.
     
    “Satisfied, Lew?” Still riding on the echoes of applause, Angela dropped into the chair behind her desk. “I told you it would work.”
    “You were great, Angela.” He said it because it was expected.
    “No, she was fabulous.” Dan sat on the edge of her desk and leaned over to kiss her. “Having that kid sit on your lap was inspired.”
    “I like kids,” she lied. “And that one seemed to have some brains. We’ll see to it that he gets in school. Now . . .” She sat back, letting the family slip from her mind as casually as she slipped out of her shoes. “Let’s get down to business. Who is she looking to book next month?”
    Resigned, Lew passed Angela a list. He didn’t have to be told they were discussing Deanna. “The names with the asterisks have already booked.”
    “She’s going after some heavy hitters, isn’t she?” Angela mused. “Movies, fashion. Still steering clear of politics.”
    “Fluff over substance,” Dan said, knowing that comment would please her.
    “Fluff or not, we wouldn’t want her to get lucky. She’s already snagged too much press. That damn Jamie Thomas affair.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line of disgust as she thought of him hiding out in Rome.
    “We still have the data on him,” Dan reminded her. “Easy enough to leak his drug problem to the press.”
    “Leaking that gains us nothing, and would only drum up more sympathetic press for Deanna. Let it go.” She scanned the sheet of paper. “Let’s see who we know well enough on here to persuade to give Deanna a pass.” She glanced up and gave Lew a bland smile. “You can go. I won’t need you.”
    When Lew closed the door quietly behind him, Dan lighted Angela’s cigarette. “That hangdog face of his gets old fast,” he commented.
    “But he has his uses.” Pleased, she tapped the list with one lacquered nail. “It’s very satisfying to know what our little Dee is planning almost before she does.” Angela checked two names on the list. “I can take care of both of these with a casual phone call. It’s so gratifying to have important people owe you. Ah, now, look here. Kate Lowell.”
    “Very hot.” Dan rose to pour them both a Perrier. “Oneof those rarities that makes the term ‘actress-model’ a compliment.”
    “Yes, she’s very beautiful, very talented. And very hot right now with her new movie burning up the box office.” Angela’s smile was slow and surprisingly sweet. “It so happens Deanna knows Kate. They summered in Topeka together. And it so happens I know an interesting little secret of Kate’s. A little secret that will make certain she won’t be chatting to her old pal on the air. In fact, I think we’ll just book her ourselves. I’ll take care of this one. Personally.”
     
    “I just don’t understand it, Finn.” Deanna snuggled down on the couch beside him, resting her head against his chest. “One minute we were making the travel arrangements, the next we get a line from her publicist about unexpected