Private Scandals

plane landed safely on runway three.
    “This is Finn Riley for CBC. Good night.”
    “Up graphics. Music. And we’re clear!”
    A cheer erupted in the control booth. Benny leaned back in his swivel chair and lifted his arms in triumph. Phones started to shrill.
    “Benny, it’s Barlow James on two.”
    A hush fell over control, and Benny stared at the receiver as though it were a snake. Barlow James, the president of the news division, rarely phoned.
    Every eye was on Benny as he swallowed and took the phone. “Mr. James?” Benny listened a moment, his ruddy face going ghostly, then flushing hot candy pink. “Thank you, sir.” Opening his mouth wide, Benny flashed a thumb’s up and set the cheering off again. “Yes, sir, Finn’s one in a million. We’re glad to have him back. Deanna Reynolds?” He swiveled in his chair and rolled his eyes at Deanna. “Yes, sir, Mr. James, we’re proud to have her on our team. Thank you very much. I’ll let them know.”
    Benny replaced the receiver, stood and did a fast boogie that sent his belly swaying over his belt. “He loved it,” Benny sang. “He loved it all. They want the whole eight minutes for the affiliates. He loved you.” Benny grabbed Deanna’s hands and spun her around. “He liked your fresh, intimate style—that’s a quote. And the fact that you looked good soaking wet.”
    With a choked laugh, Deanna stepped back and rammed straight into Finn.
    “Two pretty good qualities in a reporter,” Finn decided. He caught a whiff of her hair as he steadied her, rain and apple blossoms. “Nice job, guys.” He released Deanna to shake hands with the control crew. “Really terrific.”
    “Mr. James said welcome back, Finn,” Benny said. As he relaxed again, the pudge of his belly sagged comfortably at his belt. “And he’s looking forward to beating your butt at tennis next week.”
    “In his dreams.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Deanna descending the stairs. “Thanks again.”
    He caught up with her in the newsroom just as she was shrugging into her coat.
    “It was a good piece,” he said.
    “Yes, it was.”
    “Reading copy isn’t one of my priorities, but reading yours was a pleasure.”
    “It’s certainly a night for compliments.” She swungher purse over her arm. “Thanks, and welcome back to Chicago.”
    “Need a lift?”
    “No, I’ve got my car.”
    “I don’t.” He flashed her a smile. Dimples winked out, charmingly. “Probably hell getting a cab in this weather.”
    She studied him. In her heels, she was about the same height he was, and she got a good, close look at those innocent blue eyes. Too innocent, she thought, especially in combination with that quick, dashing grin and the wink of dimples. He wanted to look innocent, she decided. Therefore he did. Neat trick.
    “I suppose, as a professional courtesy, I could give you a ride home.”
    Her hair was still wet, he noted, and she hadn’t bothered to repair her makeup. “Are you still ticked at me?”
    “No, actually, I’m down to mildly miffed.”
    “I could buy you a burger.” He reached out to toy with one of the buttons on her jacket. “Maybe I could talk you down to slightly steamed.”
    “These things generally run their course. In any case, I think your homecoming’s been exciting enough. I’ve got a call to make.”
    She was involved with someone, Finn realized. It was too bad. Really too bad. “Just the lift, then. I appreciate it.”

Chapter Five
    F or some, organizing a party was a casual affair. Food, drink, music and good company were tossed together and left to mix in their own way.
    For Deanna, it was a campaign. From the moment Cassie had passed the torch to her barely twenty-four hours earlier, no detail was left unattended to, no list unfulfilled. Like a general rousing troops, she inspected the caterer, the florist, the bartender, the housekeeping staff. She arranged, rearranged and approved. She counted stemware, discussed the playlist with the band and personally tasted Van Damme’s chicken kabobs in peanut butter sauce.
    “Incredible,” she murmured, her eyes closed, her lips just parted as she savored the flavor. “Really, really incredible.”
    When she opened her eyes, she and the slim young caterer beamed at each other.
    “Thank God.” Van Damme offered her a glass of wine as they stood in the center of Angela’s enormous kitchen. “Miss Perkins wanted cuisine from around the world as her theme. It took a great