Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You

think?” His eyes met hers at last.
    “About what?”
    “Doing it.”
    She set the fork down and waited for a count of three. “Me?”
    “Yes.”
    “As host?”
    “Yes.”
    It took all the discipline at her command to conceal her excitement. “Burke…I’m tremendously flattered…”
    “But?”
    “Well, for starters, I have my own show.”
    “Right. Local.”
    Stung, she composed herself, then said coolly: “This is one of the most sought-after markets in the country.”
    He gave her a patient smile. “I know you know the difference.”
    “Well, maybe so, but…”
    “And I think you’ll find the money is a whole lot better.”
    “That isn’t the point,” she said calmly.
    “Well, what is? Tell me what I have to do?”
    He was practically begging. God, how she loved this. “I have a home here, Burke, a family.”
    “And they wouldn’t want to move?”
    “That’s part of it, yes.”
    “O.K.” He made a little gesture of concession with his hands. “What’s the other part?”
    “When have you even seen me, anyway? I mean, the show.”
    “Lots of times. On my way through the city. I’ve never seen you when you weren’t brilliant.” He gave her an engaging little smile. “We can even keep the name, if you want. I like the sound of ‘Mary Ann in the Morning.’”
    She was thinking more along the lines of just plain “Mary Ann.”
    “Look,” he added, “if it’s gonna be no, fine. But I want to make damn sure you know exactly what’s being offered here.”
    “I think I do,” she said.
    “Then what can I tell you?”
    “Well…what you think I can offer, for one thing.” He gave her a disbelieving look. “C’mon.”
    “I mean it.”
    “O.K.” He thought for a moment. “You’re not an automaton. You listen to people. You react. You laugh when you feel like laughing, and you say what’s on your mind. And you’ve got this great…Cleveland thing going.”
    She drew back as if he’d hit her with a mackerel. “ Cleveland thing ?”
    He grinned maddeningly. “Maybe that was the wrong way to put it…”
    “I’ve spent years making sure Cleveland was gone forever.”
    He shook his head. “Didn’t work.”
    “Well, thanks a helluva lot.”
    “And you’re lucky it didn’t. That naïveté is the best thing you’ve got going for you. Look, c’mon…where would Carson be without Nebraska?”
    With a private shiver, she realized that she could be on Carson in a matter of months, chatting chummily about her meteoric rise to fame.
    “So how was it?” asked a throaty female voice, taking Mary Ann by surprise.
    “D’or…hi. Yummy, as usual. Burke, this is our hostess, D’orothea Wilson.” She looked especially elegant today, Mary Ann thought, in a mauve silk blouse and gabardine slacks.
    “This is great,” said Burke, indicating the remains of his tuna. “Especially the peanut butter sauce.”
    D’or nodded. “I’ve been making that one at home for years.” She looked at Mary Ann and smiled wryly. “DeDe and the kids are sorta pissed that I went public with it.”
    “Is she here today?”
    D’or shook her head. “Not till two.”
    “Well, tell her I said hi, O.K.? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
    “You bet,” said D’or, and she sailed off to the front room on her proprietorial rounds.
    “She’s a beauty,” said Burke.
    “Yeah. She used to be a model. She and her lover escaped from Jonestown just before everybody…you know, drank the Kool-Aid. They hid out in Cuba for three years.”
    “My God.”
    She enjoyed his amazement. “Yeah. I broke the story, actually.”
    “On your show?”
    “No. Earlier. When I was still hosting the afternoon movie. Back in ’81. It’s how I got my start.”
    “They made you a reporter so you could break it?”
    “No.”
    “Then…?”
    She shrugged and gave him an enigmatic smile. “I just broke it during the afternoon movie.”
    “Uh-huh” was all he could manage.
    “It was just a local thing. I doubt if you would’ve heard about it in New York.”
    He caught the irony and narrowed his eyes at her. “When did you get to be so dangerous?”
    “Who, me?” she replied. “Little of me from Cleveland?”

Some Rather Exciting News
    T HE VELVETY FOG WHICH ARRIVED THAT EVENING HAD sketched a halo around the streetlight at the foot of the Barbary steps. Thack stopped beneath it and muttered, “Shit.”
    “What?” said Michael.
    “We forgot to get sherry.”
    Michael’s guilt flared up