Private Scandals

sounds like a hell of a party.”
    “It’s turning out that way. She’s not a woman to do anything halfway.”
    “And you admire that.”
    “Absolutely. Give me five minutes to freshen up, then I promise to focus all my energy on relaxing with you over dinner.”
    When she stood, he shifted so that his body just brushed hers. It was a subtle move, a subtle suggestion. “You look very fresh to me.”
    She felt the trickle of excitement run down her spine, the warmth of awareness bloom in her stomach. Tilting her head to meet his eyes, she saw the desire, the need and the patience, a combination that sent her pulse skipping.
    She had only to say yes, she knew, and they would forget all about dinner, and all about relaxing. And for one moment, one very long, very quiet moment, she wished it could be that simple.
    “I won’t be long,” she murmured.
    “I’ll wait.”
    He would, she thought when he moved aside to let her by. And she would have to make up her mind, soon, whether she wanted to continue along the comfortable, companionable road of this relationship, or shift gears.
    “Having your head shrunk, Dee?”
    She spotted the cameraman by the door, biting into a Milky Way. “That’s so lame, Joe.”
    “I know.” He grinned around the chocolate. There was a button that said AVAILABLE pinned to his tattered denim vest. He had holes in the knees of his jeans. Techs didn’t have to worry about appearance. That was just the way Joe liked it. “But somebody’s got to say it. Did you set up those two interviews for the morning? The tulip wars?”
    “Yeah. Sure you don’t mind giving up your Saturday morning?”
    “Not for overtime pay.”
    “Good. Delaney’s still at the desk, isn’t he?”
    “I’m waiting for him.” Joe bit off more candy. “We’ve got a poker game tonight. I’m going to hose him for the double shift he stuck me with last week.”
    “Do me a favor, then, and tell him we’re set, both women, ten o’clock.”
    “Will do.”
    “Thanks.” Deanna hurried away to do quick repairs on her hair and makeup. She was applying fresh lipstick when Joe burst into the ladies’ room. The door slammed back against the wall, echoing as he lunged at her.
    “Jesus, Joe, are you nuts?”
    “Get your butt in gear, Dee. We’ve got an assignment, and we’ve got to move fast.” He grabbed her purse from the sink with one hand and her arm with the other.
    “What, for God’s sake?” She tripped over the threshold as he hauled her out the door. “Did somebody start a war?”
    “Almost as hot. We’ve got to get out to O’Hare.”
    “O’Hare? Damn it, Marshall’s waiting.”
    Fighting impatience, Joe let Deanna tug her arm free. If he had any complaints about her, it was that her vision wasn’tquite narrow enough. She always saw the peripheral when the camera needed a tight shot.
    “Go tell the boyfriend you’ve got to go be a reporter. Delaney just got word there’s a plane coming in, and it’s in trouble. Big time.”
    “Oh, God.” She made the dash back into the newsroom with Joe on her heels. Bursting through the pandemonium, she snatched a fresh notebook from her desk. “Marshall, I’m sorry. I have to go.”
    “I’ve already gathered that. Do you want me to wait?”
    “No.” She dragged a hand through her hair, grabbed her jacket. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. I’ll call you. Delaney!” she called out.
    The stout assignment editor waved the stub of his unlit cigar in her direction. “Take off, Reynolds. Keep in touch on the two-way. We’ll be patching you in live. Get me a goddamn scoop.”
    “Sorry,” she called to Marshall. “Where’s the plane coming in from?” she shouted to Joe as they raced up the stairs. His motorcycle boots clattered on the metal like gunfire.
    “London. They’ll be feeding us the rest of the information as we go.” He shoved open the outside door and then plunged out into a torrent of rain. His Chicago Bulls sweatshirt was immediately plastered to his chest. He shouted over the storm while he unlocked the van. “It’s a 747. More than two hundred passengers. Left engine failure, some problem with the radar. Might have taken a hit of lightning.” To punctuate his words, a spear of lightning cracked the black sky, shattering the dark.
    Already drenched, Deanna climbed into the van. “What’s the ETA?” Out of habit, she switched on the police scanner under the dash.
    “Don’t know. Let’s just hope we get there