Private Scandals

She hurled the words at him as her fury contorted the careful beauty of her face. “You think you can find someone younger, someone you can mold and train and teach to grovel.”
    “We’ve played that tune before. I’d say we’ve played them all.” He turned, heading for the door. He was nearly across the foyer when she threw herself at his feet.
    “Don’t. Don’t leave me!” She clung to his legs, sobbing. Rejection sliced at her, bringing as much fear as pain. As it always did. As it always would. “I’m sorry.” And she meant it, completely, utterly, at that moment. It only made it worse. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me.”
    “For God’s sake, Angela.” Pummeled by pity and disgust, he dragged her to her feet. “Don’t do this.”
    “I love you. I love you so much.” With her arms twined around his neck, she wept against his shoulder. The love was as true as her earlier fury, as volatile, and as capricious.
    “If I thought you meant that, I’d feel sorry for both of us.” He jerked her back, gave her a quick shake. Tears. He’d always considered them a woman’s most potent and most underhanded weapon. “Turn it off, damn it. Do you think I could have slept with you on and off for three months and not know when you’re manipulating me? You don’t love me, and you only want me because I walked away.”
    “That’s not true.” She lifted her tear-ravaged face. There was such innocent hurt in it, such wretched sincerity, that he nearly faltered. “I do love you, Finn. And I can make you happy.”
    Furious, with her as well as with his own weakness for her, he pried her arms away. “Do you think I didn’t know that you put pressure on James to have me fired just because you didn’t want me to take the London assignment?”
    “I was desperate.” She covered her face with her hands and let the tears leak through her fingers. “I was afraid of losing you.”
    “You wanted to prove you were in control. And if James hadn’t been so solidly behind me, you could have fucked up my career.”
    “He didn’t listen to me.” She lowered her hands, and her face was cold. “Neither did you.”
    “No. I came here tonight because I’d hoped we’d both had enough time to let things settle. Looks like I was wrong.”
    “Do you think you can walk out on me?” She spoke quietly and with utter calm as Finn moved toward the door. The tears were forgotten. “Do you think it’s simple to just turn your back and walk away? I’ll ruin you. It may take years, but I swear, I’ll ruin you.”
    Finn paused at the door. She stood in the center of the foyer, her face blotched and puffy with weeping, her eyes swollen and hard as stone. “Thanks for the party, Angela. It was a hell of a show.”
     
    Deanna would have agreed. As Finn strode toward his car, she was yawning in the elevator as it climbed toward her apartment. She was grateful she had the entire next day off.It would give her time to recover, and time to think through her situation with Marshall.
    But the only thing on her schedule now was a long, soothing bath and a good night’s sleep.
    She had her keys out of her purse before the elevator doors opened. Humming to herself, she unlocked both the standard lock and the dead bolt. Out of habit, she hit the light switch beside the door as she crossed the threshold.
    Quiet, she thought. Wonderful, blessed silence. With the door locked again behind her, she crossed automatically to her phone machine to check messages. As she played them back, she slipped out of her black satin pumps and wriggled her cramped toes. She was smiling at the recording of Fran’s voice reciting possible baby names when she spotted the envelope near the door.
    Odd, she mused. Had that been there when she’d come in? She crossed the room, glancing through the security peephole before bending to scoop up the note.
    There was nothing written on the sealed envelope. Puzzled, and fighting off another yawn, she tore it open, unfolded the single sheet of plain white stationery.
    There was only one sentence, typed in bold red ink.
    Deanna, I adore you.

Chapter Six
    “ W e’ve got thirty seconds to air.”
    “We’ll make it.” Deanna slipped into her chair beside Roger on the news set. Through her earpiece she heard the frantic overlapping voices in the control room. A few feet away, the floor director was shouting demands for information and dancing in place. One of the camera crew was smoking lazily and