Private Scandals

putting everything together. The caterers, the flowers, the music—and of course, the party itself. Making sure everything runs smoothly. My secretary just can’t handle it all, and I really want it to be perfect. If you could give me a couple of hours later today—and tomorrow, of course.”
    Deanna battled back the sense of resentment, and obligation. “Angela, I’d love to help you out, but I’m booked.”
    Angela’s persuasive smile never altered, but her eyes chilled. “You’re not scheduled for Saturday.”
    “No, not here—though I am on call. But I have plans.” Deanna began to tap a finger on her notes. “A date.”
    “I see.” Angela’s hand went to her pearls, where her fingers rubbed one smooth, glowing sphere. “Rumor has it that you’ve been seeing a lot of Dr. Marshall Pike.”
    The evening news might run on facts and verified information, but Deanna understood that newsrooms and television studios ran on gossip. “We’ve been out a few times in the last couple of weeks.”
    “Well, I wouldn’t want to interfere—and I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Dee.” To add intimacy to the statement, Angela rested a hip on Deanna’s desk. “Do you really think he’s your type?”
    Torn between manners and her own schedule, Deanna chose manners. “I don’t really have one. A type, I mean.”
    “Of course you do.” With a light laugh, Angela tilted her head. “Young, well built, the outdoorsy type. Athletic,” she continued. “You need someone who can keep up with the vicious pace you set for yourself. And a good intellect, naturally, but not overly cerebral. You need someone who can make his point in quick, fifteen-second bites.”
    She really didn’t have time for any of this. Deanna picked up one of her sharpened pencils and ran it through her fingers. “That makes me sound sort of shallow.”
    “Not at all.” Angela’s eyes widened in protest even as she chuckled. “Darling, I only want the very best for you. I’d hate to see a passing interest interfere with the momentum of your career, and as for Marshall . . . He’s a bit slick, isn’t he?”
    Temper glinted in Deanna’s eyes, and was quickly suppressed. “I don’t know what you mean. I enjoy his company.”
    “Of course you do.” Angela patted Deanna’s shoulder. “What young woman wouldn’t? An older man, experienced, smooth. But to let him interfere with your work—”
    “He’s not interfering with anything. We’ve gone out a few times in the last couple of weeks, that’s all. I’m sorry, Angela, but I really have to get back on schedule here.”
    “Sorry,” she said coolly. “I thought we were friends. I didn’t think a little constructive advice would offend you.”
    “It hasn’t.” Deanna fought back a sigh. “But I’m on deadline. Listen, if I can squeeze out some time later today, I’ll do what I can to help you with the party.”
    As if a switch had been thrown, the icy stare melted into the warmest of smiles. “You’re a jewel. Tell you what, just to prove there’s no hard feelings, you bring Marshall tomorrow night.”
    “Angela—”
    “Now, I won’t take no for an answer.” She slid off the desk. “And if you could get there just an hour or two early, I’d be so grateful. No one organizes like you, Dee. We’ll talk about all of this later.”
    Deanna leaned back in her chair when Angela strolled away. She felt as though she’d been steamrolled with velvet.
    With a shake of her head, she looked down at her notes, her fingers poised over her keyboard. Frowning, she relaxed them again. Angela was wrong, she thought. Marshall wasn’t interfering with her work. Being interested in someone didn’t have to clash with ambition.
    She enjoyed going out with him. She liked his mind—the way he could open it to see both sides of a situation. And the way he laughed when she dug in on an opinion and refused to budge.
    She appreciated the fact that he was letting the physical end of their relationship develop slowly, at her pace. Though she had to admit it was becoming tempting to speed things up. It had been a long time since she’d felt safe enough, and strong enough, with a man to invite intimacy.
    Once she did, Deanna thought, she would have to tell him everything.
    She shook the memory away quickly, before it could dig its claws into her heart. She knew from experience it was best to cross one bridge at a time, then to prepare to span the next.
    The first