Stiffly, he stepped aside. "I'll be ready to discuss this when you've calmed down."
"Oh, I'm calm," she muttered as she headed for the studio. "I'm dead calm, you bastard."
She shoved through the studio doors, strode across the floor and took her place behind the anchor desk.
Finn watched her through the first break. Once he was satisfied she was under control, he slipped out and walked to the elevator.
Over a celebratory glass of champagne, Angela watched the noon report in her office. She didn't give a damn about the words or images, but she was interested, even fascinated, by Deanna. The girl looked as cool and sweet as an ice-cream soda, Angela thought. Except for the eyes. Angela would have been bitterly disappointed if she hadn't seen the banked fury in Deanna's gaze.
"Direct hit," she murmured, delighted. I win, she thought again, but couldn't prevent a twinge of admiration.
Curled in the leather chair behind her desk, she sipped and smiled, and finally raised her glass in silent toast to Deanna.
"She's got style, doesn't she?" Finn said from the doorway.
To her credit, Angela didn't jolt. She continued to sip and study the screen. "Absolutely. She could go a long way in the business with the right teacher."
"Is that the role you've carved out for yourself here?" Finn crossed the room, skirted the desk to stand behind Angela's chair. "Going to teach her your way, Angela?"
"My way works. Dee would be the first to tell you how generous I've been with her."
"She scares you, doesn't she?" Finn lowered his hands to Angela's shoulders, holding her firm so that they both faced Deanna's image.
"Why should she?"
"Because she's got more than style. You've got plenty of that yourself. She's got brains, but you have those, too. And guts, and drive. But then she tops you, Angela. Because she's got class. Bred-in-the-bone class." His fingers dug in when she started to shift. He couldn't know just how deeply he'd hit the mark. "That's something you'll never have. You can wear your pearls and your thousand-dollar suits; it doesn't mean a damn. Because you can't wear class. You can't buy it and you can't fake it." He spun her chair around, leaning over her so they were face to face. "And you'll never have it. So she scares the hell out of you, and you had to find a way to show her who was on top."
"Did she come running to you, Finn?" She was shaken, much more than she cared to admit, but she lifted her glass and sipped delicately, even though the drink now seemed a little more like a crutch. "Was she shocked and devastated and crying out for comfort?"
"You're such a bitch, Angela."
"You always liked that about me." Her eyes laughed over the rim of her glass. Then she shrugged. "The truth is, I'm sorry she was hurt that way. There's no denying that Marshall wasn't right for her, but I know she cared for him. The simple fact was he was attracted to me, and I to him." Because she wanted to believe her excuse, she did. Her voice rang with sincerity. "Things got out of hand, and I blame myself entirely. It was thoughtless."
"The hell it was. You don't take a breath without thinking it through."
She smiled again, looking up under her lashes. "Don't be jealous, Finn."
"You're pathetic. Did you think this stunt was going to break her?"
"If she had loved him, it would have." Pursing her lips, she examined her nails. "So, perhaps I did her a favor."
He laughed. "Maybe you did at that. You sure as hell did me one." He turned back to her and grinned. "I want her, and you just cleared the path."
He didn't have to dodge the glass she hurled. It struck the window a full six inches from his head. The crystal shattered. Delighted, Finn stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Your aim still stinks."
There was no laughter now, nor any of the regret she'd convinced herself she felt. There was only rage. "Do you think she'll want you after she hears what I can tell her?"
"Do you think she'll listen to anything you say after this stunt?" There was reckless humor in his eyes. "You overshot your mark this time. She's not going to come whimpering to you. She's going to tough it out. And she's going to get better. And you're going to start looking over your shoulder."
"Do you think I'm worried about some fluffy little news reader?" she demanded. "All I have to do is make a phone call and she'd be gone. Like that." She snapped her fingers. "Who do you think's been keeping this station out of the basement for the last two years? And where do you think it'll go when I pull up stakes?"
"So you are leaving." He nodded, rocked back on his heels. "Well, congratulations and bon voyage."
"That's right. When the new season opens I'll be in New York, and Angela's will be produced by my own company. CBC'S affiliates will come crawling to pay my price to air my show. Within two years, I'll be the most powerful woman in television."
"You might pull it off," he agreed. "For a while."
"I'll still be on top when you're scrounging around for a two-minute spot on the late news." She was trembling now, her temper pricked and pecked by needles of insecurity. "People want me. They admire me. They respect me."
"I certainly did."
Both Finn and Angela turned to the doorway, where Deanna stood, pale under her camera makeup. She noted, with no surprise, that Angela had salvaged most of the rose blooms and had set them prominently on her desk.
"Deanna." Tears swimming in her eyes, Angela started across the room. "I don't know how I can ever apologize."
"Please don't. I think, since it's only the three of us here, we can be honest. I know you planned the whole episode, that you arranged to have me walk in just when I did."
"How could you say such a thing?"
"I saw your face." Her voice hitched, but she steadied herself. She would not lose control. "I saw your face," she repeated. "I'm not sure whether it was because you wanted to prove that I was wrong about Marshall, or if it was because I couldn't accept your offer. Maybe it was a combination of both."
Hurt, every bit as genuine as the pearls at her throat, shuddered through Angela's voice. "You should know me better."
"Yes, I should have known you better. But I wanted to believe in you. I wanted to be flattered that you befriended me, that you saw something in me. So I didn't look past the surface."
"S." Blinking at tears, Angela turned away. "You're going to toss our friendship aside because of a man."
"No, I'm tossing it aside because of me. I wanted you to know that."
"I gave you my time, my help, my affection." Whirling, Angela pounced. "No one turns me down."
"Then I guess I'm the first. Good luck in New York." Good copy, Deanna told herself as she walked out. Damn good copy.
"Don't forget to look over your shoulder," Finn said as he closed the door quietly behind him.
Chapter Nine
ANGELA TRADES WINDY
CITY FOR BIG APPLE
TALK SHOW QUEEN TO
REIGN IN NEW YORK MULTIMILLION-DOLLAR DEAL FOR
CHICAGO'S FAVORITE BLONDE
The headlines gloated over the news. Even staunch vehicles like the Chicago Tribune, The New York Times, The Washington Post carried the banner. For one sunny day in June, stories of Angela's record-breaking deal overshadowed the troubled economy and unrest in the Middle East.
She was in her element.
With the graciousness of royalty, she granted interviews, welcomed a team from People into her home, chatted with Liz Smith over the phone. She had a quote for Variety and agreed to a layout in McCall's.