Private Scandals

sidestepped, panned back. “This’ll go in my growing library of life behind Deanna’s Hour. ”
    Deanna felt her smile stiffen. “Do you have a lot of tape?”
    “Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Simon pulling what’s left of his hair out. Margaret tossing spitballs. You racing for the elevator.”
    Beneath the sparkling bodice, Deanna’s heart thudded thickly. “I guess I’ve never paid much attention. So many cameras around. You always keep that at hand, don’t you?”
    “You never know what historical, or humiliating, moment you might capture.”
    Someone had captured her, Deanna remembered, while she’d slept at her desk. Coming to work, going from, shopping, playing with Fran’s baby in the park.
    They’d captured her unconscious in the studio beside Angela’s body.
    Cassie, who was in and out of the office dozens of times a day. Cassie, who knew every detail of Deanna’s schedule. Cassie, who had dated one of the studio camera operators.
    “Turn it off, Cassie.”
    “One more second.”
    “Turn it off.” Her voice sharpened, and Deanna set her teeth to steady it.
    “Sorry.” Obviously baffled, Cassie lowered the camera. “I guess I got carried away.”
    “It’s all right. I’m just edgy.” Deanna managed to smile again. It was ridiculous, she told herself. It was insane even to speculate that Cassie would be capable of murder.
    “It’s your first day back.” Cassie touched her hand and Deanna had to force herself not to jerk away. “God knows it was a madhouse around here after the show with all those calls coming in about Kate Lowell. Why don’t you giveyourself a break after you’ve finished the fitting, and go home? I can reschedule the rest of the afternoon’s business.”
    “I think that’s a good idea.” She spoke slowly over the erratic thud of her heart. “I’ve got a lot of things to deal with at home.”
    Cassie’s mouth thinned. “I didn’t mean you should jump out of one madhouse into another. You’re not going to get any work done there, with all those painters and carpenters slogging away. I think—” She saw that Deanna’s eyes had focused behind her and turned. “Jeff.” Her mouth softened at the admiration on his face. “She looks fabulous, doesn’t she?”
    “Yeah. Really.” He glanced at the camera Cassie held. “You got pictures?”
    “Sure. Capture the moment. Listen, unless it’s a crisis, hold it off, will you? This is a momentous occasion. Dee’s going home early.”
    “Oh, good idea. Finn called, Deanna. He said to tell you he had a meeting and he’d see you at home. He thought he might get there by four.”
    “Well, that’s lucky. Maybe I’ll beat him there.”
    “Not if you don’t hold still,” the seamstress muttered.
     
    But it was barely three-thirty when Deanna slipped into her shoes and grabbed her briefcase. “Cassie, can you call Tim?”
    “Already done. He should be waiting downstairs.”
    “Thanks.” She stopped by the desk, feeling ashamed and foolish about her earlier thoughts. “I’m sorry about before, Cassie. The camera business.”
    “Don’t worry about it.” Cassie zipped open one of the daily letters that heaped on her desk. “I know I’m a nuisance.” She chuckled. “I like being a nuisance with it. See you tomorrow.”
    “Okay. Don’t stay late.”
    More at ease, Deanna walked to the elevator, checking her watch as she punched the Down button. With any luck, shecould surprise Finn by arriving first. It wouldn’t take much effort, she knew, to persuade him to fix some blackened chicken and pasta. She was in the mood for something spicy to cap off her first day back in harness.
    She could deal with a mountain of paperwork and phone calls there. Then, if she scheduled a break, she could slink into something designed to drive Finn crazy.
    They’d have dinner late. Very late, she decided, and swung out of the elevator.
    Maybe she’d wrap a few last-minute Christmas gifts, or talk Finn into baking some cookies. She could run a couple of the new segment ideas by him.
    The flash of sunlight had her reaching automatically for her tinted glasses. Slipping them on, she climbed into the back of the waiting limo.
    “Hi, Tim.” She closed her eyes and stretched. The limo was beautifully warm.
    “Hi, Miss Reynolds.”
    “Turned out to be a beautiful day.” Out of habit, she reached for the bottle of chilled juice that was always stocked for her. She looked up idly at the back of her