Private Scandals

we’ve been through this.” She saw his face change, harden. “Don’t.”
    “I don’t know how long it’s going to take before I close my eyes and stop seeing you in that room. Knowing you were there all those hours, and I’d walked right by you.” He pulled her roughly against him. “I still want to kill him.”
    “He’s sick, Finn. All those years of emotional abuse. He needed to escape, and he used television. And one day, the day he found his uncle dead, I walked out of the screen and into his life.”
    “I don’t give a damn how sick he is, how warped or how pathetic.” He drew her back. “I can’t, Deanna. I don’t have it in me to care. And I can’t stand hearing you blame yourself.”
    “I’m not. Really, I’m not. I know it wasn’t my fault. Nothing he did was my fault.” Still, she thought of Tim, whose body had been found in the trunk of her company car in a downtown parking lot. “I was never real to him, Finn. Even all the time we worked together, I was never anything but an image, a vision. Everything he did he did because he’d twisted that image. I can’t blame myself for that. But I can still be sorry.”
    “Dee.” Fran stepped into the doorway, winked at Finn. “We need the star in five.”
    “The star’s ready.”
    “I can postpone the flight, stick around for the press conference after the show.”
    “I can handle reporters.” She kissed Finn firmly, on the mouth. “I’ve had plenty of experience.”
    “Want to get married, Kansas?” With his arm around her, he walked her into the corridor, down toward the set.
    “You bet I do. April third. Be there.”
    “I never miss a deadline.” He turned her around to face him. “I’m crazy about you.” And winced. “Bad choice of words.”
    She wasn’t surprised that she could laugh. Nothing surprised her now. “Call me from Rome.” Marcie leaped forward to repair Deanna’s lipstick. “And don’t forget, you haveto handle the flowers for the church and reception. You have the list I made you?”
    Behind her back, he rolled his eyes. “Which one?”
    “All of them.”
    “No you don’t.” Marcie threw up a hand before Deanna could lean into another kiss. “You’ve got thirty seconds, and I don’t want my work smeared.”
    “Stay tuned, Kansas. I’ll be back.”
    Deanna took another step toward stage. “The hell with it.” She whirled around, flew into Finn’s arms. Over Marcie’s groan, she clamped her lips to his. “Hurry back,” she told him, and rushed toward the stage, nailing her cue.
    The floor director stabbed a finger toward her. Over the sound of applause, she smiled into the camera’s glass eye and slipped seamlessly into millions of lives.
    “Good morning. It’s good to be home.”