Hugo opened the door, and she said, “Good luck, Hugo. I know this is a big night for you.”
“For all of us. We’re going to do great.”
He stepped outside, and for the first time in months and months, Hugo Talley felt hopeful.
Gilda couldn’t stop touching the space between her eyebrows. She had yet to feel anything except numbness, but she could hardly believe that deep line that refused to leave, even when she smiled, had vanished. In its place was smooth, supple skin. Even the lines around her eyes were gone, and the two creases on either side of her nose. The doctor explained she could experience some swelling and redness, but so far none of that had happened.
She’d been studying the script for the evening carefully, though it wasn’t in its final draft. Still, there was a lot to this story, and Gilda wanted the transitions to be smooth and her delivery to be perfect. She decided to take a break and get some coffee, despite the warning about it after her teeth-bleaching session this afternoon. She couldn’t live without coffee, even if it meant her teeth looked a little dull.
In the break room, she was delighted to discover a fresh pot in the coffeemaker. She poured it into her favorite lipstick-stained mug and was stirring in cream when the door flew open and Tate bolted in.
“I’m nervous,” he said. “At first I thought I was coming down with the flu, but I think it’s nerves.” He looked genuinely baffled. “I’ve only felt like this one other time, when a bungee rope got tangled around my neck.”
Gilda reached for his hand. “Dear, you’ll do fine. I’m here with you. It’s just like riding a bike. Or in your case, a snowboard off a cliff.”
“Hugo keeps saying, ‘Don’t mess this up,’ and I’m going to mess it up.”
Gilda set her mug down and cupped his shoulder. “You’re not going to mess it up. You must think about it like any other news day.”
“Skydiving is easier than this. There’s a rip cord you pull to open your chute. If that doesn’t work, you pull another one. If that doesn’t work, well, you’re dead. But you’ve pretty much done all you can do.” Tate shook his head. “There’s so much to keep track of here.”
Gilda realized it was a lot for Tate to process. He wasn’t really the multifaceted type, at least as far as his mind was concerned.
Although she felt the pressure, too, she had a hard time understanding why someone who could jump out of an airplane was feeling nervous about reading from a TelePrompTer, but she tried to remain encouraging. “That’s what being an anchor is all about. You have to keep your cool under pressure. Sure, most nights you’re trying to make news out of the most mundane of things. But there are those shining moments in your career when real news happens, Tate. And that’s what you’ve been practicing for. All those nights that you’ve stared into that camera lens, faithfully reporting the day’s events, have prepared you for this moment.”
Tate stared at his feet. “You’re amazing.” He glanced at her. “I don’t know how you do it. In the middle of such a stressful situation, you stand there so calm, smiling even.”
She was smiling? She hadn’t thought she was smiling. Huh. Botox really was miraculous.
“You look great by the way,” he added.
“Thanks, honey. You’re kind to say so. Now, the best way to shine, and not in the oily pore sort of way, is to be prepared. Have you been studying your script?”
“Yes. I throw it to commercial, and I welcome everyone back, I pitch the weather and the sports, but…well, most of the lines are yours.”
“Hey, who would Penn be without Teller, right? Sometimes the silent guy does the talking without ever saying a word.”
Tate nodded and left in a contemplative mood. Gilda followed him into the newsroom, stirring her coffee. As people looked her way, a few gave a thumbs-up. Others simply pretended nothing unusual was going on, even though they were staring like she’d grown a third eye. Well, if she had, she was sure there was some sort of injection for that too.
Hayden happened by, and before Gilda knew it, she’d reached out and taken her by the arm, pulling the girl beside her.
“Yes?” Hayden asked.
“Look, I know we had that little heart-to-heart about aging and all of that, but you have to understand the position I am in. Truthfully, you could never really understand my position. But I did this of my own accord. I’ve been pressured for years. Years. This was my decision, and my decision alone. Nobody made me do this.”
“Ms. Braun, it’s really none of my business.”
“None of your business? What about all that beauty-is-on-the-inside talk?”
“Well,” Hayden said, with a preemptive sweetness, “some people prefer to wear their beauty on the outside, I guess.”
“Sure. Why not, right?” Gilda lifted her coffee mug in the air in a toasting gesture.
“It’s just that on the inside, it can’t be damaged by UVB rays.” Hayden gave her a knowing wink and walked off. Gilda sighed and wished her the best, and a few premature sunspots to go along with it.
She was walking toward her dressing room when she saw Hugo rush out of his office, holding a piece of paper in his hand. He was gathering everyone to the center of the newsroom. He looked frantic, or excited. She couldn’t really tell what was wrong with him, but she wasn’t used to seeing Hugo this emotional.
“Hurry up,” he beckoned, and pretty soon everyone was hushed and huddled.
“What’s going on?” Gilda asked.
“I just received this fax,” Hugo said, holding the piece of paper up in the air. “It’s a threat.”
“A threat?” someone asked.
“From Petey Green.”
Mumbling ensued, and Hugo didn’t try hard to hush them. Instead, he talked over them. “It says: ‘To Whoever It Concerns. I hate your news station. You are all a bunch of biased pig lovers. I hated your station before you ever came to my street. But I can tell you one thing, I ain’t gonna let you on my street again. You step on my street and you are gonna wish you never met me.’” Hugo paused. “It’s signed by Mr. Green.”
“What are we going to do?” someone asked.
“I’ve called the police, and they’re on their way. In the meantime, folks, we’re going to have to cover this angle as well. We’ve got every reporter already assigned to different parts of this story, so this is going to have to be from the anchor’s desk.” Hugo looked at Gilda. “You’re going to read it live.”
Gilda felt her heart flutter. “No problem,” she replied. “We’ll make it happen. When?”
“We’re going to have to set up the story first, or the threat will make little sense, so I think we’ll end the first segment with you reading it on air. Someone get a camera set up outside. I want a shot of the police arriving at the station. Everyone else, let’s put the finishing touches on the show. We’ve got one hour.” Hugo slapped his hands together, startling everyone. “Let’s move, people!”
The crowd dispersed, and Gilda watched Hugo buzz around the room like a seven-year-old on a sugar high. This wasn’t like him. Last year they’d thrown him a surprise birthday party, and when they jumped out of the dark and yelled, “Surprise!” all he managed was a mild smile and soft, “Thank you.” Gilda thought maybe it was because Hugo’s wife, Jane, was such a talker that Hugo never had anything left to say. Or had much practice talking. But whatever the case, Hugo was the most even-tempered person she’d ever met, and the fact that this whole scenario was getting to him made her wonder if she ought to be more nervous than she was.
Walking back to her dressing room, she thought, What can go wrong? You’re a pro. You’ve been doing this for years. You’ve covered every kind of news story there is. She carefully sipped her coffee and let the rest of the crew go stir crazy. She was going to keep her cool. That was going to be the key to success. Keep cool.
She walked into her dressing room and to her vanity. Her makeup lady would be here soon, and what a surprise she was going to be in for! Gilda could hardly w
ait. This lady would save a ton on concealer.
And then she noticed something.
It was a small box, tied with a red ribbon, sitting right next to her hairbrush. She sat down on her stool and could hardly manage to reach out to read the card attached. Could this be from her secret admirer? It had all the familiar characteristics: the neat and tidy bow, the simple presentation, like it had just leaped out of the last century. She’d never received a box from her admirer at work. Did this mean she worked with him? There had been subtle hints…
She turned, almost feeling like someone was in the room, watching her, but she was alone. She looked back at the box and opened the note. It simply said, “You make my heart stand still.” She placed her hand on her chest; her heart was definitely not standing still. Pulling the string to the box, it fell to the side, and she lifted its top. There, in the middle, were four exquisitely decorated chocolates.
Gilda glanced up at her reflection in the mirror, about to smile. But to her delightful surprise, she was already smiling.
This admirer was a co-worker, and he’d just made a new move to make himself known. She hoped he wouldn’t hide behind his gifts forever.
Chapter 9
Hugo still couldn’t stop smiling. Finally, it was his turn to experience good luck or karma or divine blessing or whatever you wanted to call it. He’d watched it happen to other people for years. Now it was his turn. Something was going his way; something that he didn’t have to work an eighty-hour week for.
They had twenty minutes until the news started, and to his surprise, everything looked exactly in place. The control-room personnel were focused but not stressed. Tate and Gilda looked ready to take the bull by the horns, and all the reporters were standing by for their segments. So far, they hadn’t had a single glitch. Even Chad, who normally left at 6:30 p.m., was hanging around. And Hugo had heard from a few sources that the other news stations were carrying Ray’s incident as their lead story.
Hugo was in such a good mood that he decided to call his wife. Normally, he didn’t talk to Jane during work. They’d tried it a few times when he landed his first producer’s job, but it never worked out well.
Jane hadn’t always worked. She stayed home when their daughter was young, but Hugo didn’t earn enough at his previous job to make ends meet, so Jane went to work. And to both their surprise, she loved it. Ever since then she worked. Because of it, they left more messages than they did actual talking, so they’d agreed to just e-mail each other if there was something important going on. He knew she’d be up because she always watched the news until the sports came on.
“Hello?”
“Hey, honey. It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to say hello.”
“Aren’t you getting ready to start the news?”
“In a few minutes. It’s just been a good day, and I wanted to share it with you. How was your day?”
“Oh, crazy. I had three meetings at work, and then the school called and wanted me to volunteer at the cupcake bake-off. You’re going to have to make a batch in the morning. Plus, I had to take Kaylin to a special dance rehearsal tonight. We just got home thirty minutes ago.”
“Is she in bed yet?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, give her a hug for me anyway.”
“I’ve left a list of a few other things I need you to do before work tomorrow. And your dinner is in the fridge.”
“Okay. Well, I better run. I’ll talk to you sometime tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget, I’ve got that corporate meeting until eight.”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Hugo hung up the phone and turned to find Hayden standing near him. “You must really miss your wife.”
Hugo nodded, a little embarrassed that he’d been caught talking to his wife at work.
“My parents were really lucky. They worked in a business together for years, so they were with each other all the time.”
Hugo couldn’t quite imagine that, though he did long for a little more time with Jane. When he arrived home after work, she was already in bed, and by the time he got up, she was already gone. The only thing that worked out really well was Kaylin’s schedule. Their twelve-year-old had a parent present for nearly every activity.
“We make the most of our weekends,” Hugo said. “Now, is everything set? Are we sure we’ve got all our ducks in a row?”
“Yes sir. Everyone is ready to go.”
“All right.” Hugo checked his watch. Fifteen minutes. So this was what euphoria felt like.
Ray had tried several times to maneuver his way next to Hayden throughout the evening. He had little to do at work other than meander around and answer one question after another about the incident. His head was throbbing a little, but that didn’t deter his mind from plotting how he intended to ask out Hayden. He was going to have to be really smooth about it since he’d witnessed Sam Leege crash and burn. He didn’t want that to happen. But he also didn’t want to give Sam an opportunity before he got his chance.
Nothing was panning out. Every time he got close to her, something happened to thwart him.
Time was ticking by. Soon the news would be over and his chance would be gone. Perhaps he was rushing things, but he knew the look in Sam’s eye. It was a look that told him Sam wasn’t going to go home to study the weather tonight.
Ray had to get in while he still had a chance. Sam would be back, and there was something about meteorologists in this part of the country that made women swoon. Maybe they knew something about the barometric pressure that other men didn’t.
Ray stood at his desk and scanned the newsroom for her to no avail. She was probably in the control room with Hugo, and there was no way he was going to try his moves inside a dark box with a crowd and a bunch of open mikes.
He decided to get a cup of coffee. He hated coffee, but it was a nice excuse to leave his desk for a few minutes. He’d been taking coffee breaks for years and had yet to actually drink the stuff. As he turned toward the break room, he almost ran over Hayden, who was about to place a piece of paper on his desk.
“Hi,” Ray said. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were there.”
“My fault,” she said, grinning. “I should’ve made some noise or something.”
Ray was already disgruntled at his inability to sense the woman of his dreams nearby. Even the smallest animal could smell the opposite sex from yards, sometimes miles, away. What was wrong with him?
And now he was caught off guard. He’d had so many lines prepared, so many openers, and now he was just staring at her. She started to look uncomfortable, as she should, because he was making a perfectly awkward moment worse.
So he started to say something about how beautiful she looked. He’d hoped to go for a more creative angle, but at the moment, nothing else was coming to him. He figured, What woman doesn’t like to hear how beautiful she is? She looked down, shaking her head. “Is it that obvious?”
Not only could he not sense her presence, but now he couldn’t follow the conversation. This was the reason he was single and probably would be for the rest of his life. He was stuck between nodding and shaking his head, and it was making him dizzy.
“I know, I know. It’s making me so upset. I’m trying to hide it, but it’s just getting to me.”
Ray tried his best to follow. “I…well, I would be upset too.”
“You would? Really?”
“Sure,” Ray smiled. “Wouldn’t everyone?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so. I mean, this sort of thing is accepted as the norm. But it’s so sad. I’m really sad for her.”
Ray followed her gaze as she looked toward… “Gilda?”
Hayden turned to him. “Who did you think I was talking about?”
Swallowing, Ray tried to play it cool again. He wished he had a cup of coffee to pretend to sip. “No, yeah. Of course, Gilda.”
Ray wasn’t exactly sure how to turn “lies of Satan” into a lead in to ask her out. Speaking of lies… Speaking of Satan.… Nothing was working here. And Speaking of beauty wasn’t going to fly, since it was obvious that Hayden wasn’t concerned with outward beauty. Speaking of beauty on the inside… That sounded like he was getting ready to compliment her kidneys.
But he had to do something. She was standing right here. This was his chance, and he was blowing it, big time.
Hayden was about to walk off, so it was going to have to be a desperate move on his part, but at least it was a move. He was going to look like a fool. Maybe he’d end up being a fool in love. He reached out to take her arm, but suddenly Roarke came rushing by as fast as Roarke could actually rush. With a piece of paper in each hand, huffing and puffing straight for the control room, Roarke mumbled over and over, “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.”
With ten minutes to go in the newscast, Hugo decided to do something unprecedented. In all his years as a news producer, he had never done anything like this. But in all his years as a news producer, nothing like this had ever happened. Sure, he’d covered big stories, locally and nationally. But he’d never had the edge like he had today.
He’d instructed Willis to open up everyone’s IFBs. He called the control room and all the reporters standing by to attention.
“Good evening, everyone,” Hugo said. “I know you’re all wondering why I’ve called this meeting.” Hugo snickered at his own joke. Everyone in the control room managed at least a small smile. “In all seriousness, I just want to tell you how proud I am of every one of you. We’ve worked hard over the years to try to get to this place, and here we are. Maybe we got here with the help of a little dumb luck, and the fact that Ray’s never taken a self-defense class, but we’re here. We’re prepared for it. Every one of us is prepared. Take in this moment.” He sucked air through his nostrils, causing Willis to give him a strange look. “Really take it in. This doesn’t happen often.” Hugo closed his eyes. He didn’t want to lose this feeling. It had been so long since he felt this good, this satisfied with life, without the help of a pill, which was by far cheaper than the fancy sports cars other men needed.
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