Private Scandals

Air-raid sirens screamed over the crash of exploding shells. “We got ourselves a front-row seat.”
    In frustration, Finn held his microphone out to record the sounds of battle. “Get Chicago back.”
    “I’m trying.” The engineer worked controls with trembling hands. “I’m trying, goddamn it.”
    Eyes narrowed, Finn stalked to the balcony rail, then turned to the camera. If they couldn’t go live, at least they’d havetape. “Baghdad’s night sky erupted at approximately two thirty-five this morning. There are flashes and the answering spears from antiaircraft. Flames shoot up from the horizon sporadically.” When he turned, he saw, with both awe and dull disbelief, the searing comet trail of a tracer flash by at eye level. Its deadly, eerie beauty made his blood pump. What a visual. “Oh, Christ, did you get that? Did you get it?”
    He heard his engineer swear thinly as the building shook. Finn shoved his blowing hair out of his face and shouted into his mike. “The city is being rattled by the air raid. The waiting is over. It’s started.”
    He turned back to the engineer. “Any luck?”
    “No.” Though his color was still gone, he managed a wobbly grin. “I think our friendly hosts are going to be coming along pretty soon to evict us.”
    Now Finn grinned, a quick, reckless flash as deadly as rifle fire. “They have to find us first.”
     
    While Finn taped his war report, Deanna sat, numbed with boredom, through another interminable dinner. Strains of monotonous piano music wafted through the ballroom of the hotel in Indianapolis. In addition to after-dinner speeches, mediocre wine and rubber chicken, all she had to look forward to was the long trip back to Chicago.
    At least, she thought, selfishly, she wasn’t suffering alone. She’d dragged Jeff Hyatt with her.
    “It’s not too bad,” he murmured, as he swallowed a bite.
    “If you put enough salt on it.”
    She sent him a look that was nearly as bland as the meal. “That’s what I love about you, Jeff. Always the optimist. Let’s just see if you can smile about the fact that after we finish not eating this, the station manager, the head of sales and two of our advertisers are going to give speeches.”
    He thought about it a moment, opted for water rather than wine. “Well, it could be worse.”
    “I’m waiting.”
    “We could be snowed in.”
    She shuddered. “Please, don’t even joke about that.”
    “I like these trips, really.” Head ducked, he glanced at her, then back to his plate. “Going through the station, meeting everyone, watching them roll out the red carpet for you.”
    “I like that part myself. Spending time at one of the affiliates and seeing all that enthusiasm for the show. And most of the people are terrific.” She sighed and toyed with the lump of rice next to her chicken. She was just tired, she thought. All of her life, she’d had a surplus of energy, and now it seemed she was running on empty. All those demands on time, on her brain, on her body.
    Celebrity, she’d discovered, was not all glamour and limos. For every perk there was a price. For every rich-and-famous elbow she rubbed, there were half a dozen corporate dinners or late-night meetings. For every magazine cover, there were canceled social plans. Helming a daily show didn’t simply mean having camera presence and good interviewing skills. It meant being on call twenty-four hours a day.
    You got what you asked for, Dee, she reminded herself. Now stop whining and get to work. With a determined smile, she turned to the man beside her. Fred Banks, she remembered, station owner, golf enthusiast and hometown boy.
    “I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed seeing your operation today,” she began. “You have a wonderful team.”
    He puffed up with pride. “I like to think so. We’re number two now, but we intend to be number one within the year. Your show’s going to help us accomplish that.”
    “I hope so.” She ignored the little ball of tension in her stomach. Her six months was almost up. “I’m told you were born right here in Indianapolis.”
    “That’s right. Born and bred.”
    While he expounded on the delights of his hometown, Deanna made appropriate comments while her eyes scanned the room. Every table was circled by people who were in some way depending on her to make it. And doing a good show wasn’t enough. She’d done so that morning, she thought. Nearly ten hours before—if you didn’t count timefor