“The only experience I’m interested in right now involves you. Any chance I can see you tonight?”
She glanced at the clock, then at the script. “I can’t, Mitch. It’s already half past eight and this script is close, but no cigar as yet.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow. Though it won’t be as much fun talking business in my office.”
“I can think of plenty of fun things to do in your office.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“What are you wearing?”
“My pajamas. Good night, Mitch.”
He chuckled, and she realized he was teasing her. “Good night, honey pie.”
Somehow, when he said it, it didn’t come out at all the way Grandmother said it.
Talk about a verbal stroke in all the right places. Yum. She forced herself to hang up.
AS SHE DROVE IN to the station and got back into the swing of a Monday morning, Eve had to put aside personal thoughts of Mitch and of her family, and concentrate on the urgent issue at hand: the network-as represented by Mitch-coming back for a counteroffer. Even if she didn’t have the whole loyalty issue to deal with, the simple fact was that she couldn’t leave her team behind and go national. Or if the unthinkable happened and she actually accepted CWB’s proposal, she wanted to take them all with her. But how could she do that? Would they want her to move into a new affiliate facility? That might mean Cole’s girls having to change schools or even cities. Jane and Perry might be looking at buying a house soon. What would the market be like somewhere else?
No, she couldn’t go and that was that. Just Between Us succeeded because of her, but she only succeeded because of Nicole, Jane, Cole and Zach. One for all and all for one, that was going to be her motto if any more networks came sniffing around.
When she got back from an early afternoon appointment, Dylan Moore materialized in the door of her office before she’d even put her purse away.
“Are you sitting down?” he asked, even though he could see perfectly well she wasn’t.
She pulled up her chair and sat. “I am now. Please don’t tell me today’s guest fell out.”
“No, but Thursday’s did.”
“What?”
“Eve, that’s not important. What is important is that the scout from SBN is in Dan Phillips’s office even as we speak.”
She stared at him, and he closed the door carefully behind his back.
“You told the CWB rep no, didn’t you?”
“Repeatedly,” Eve said. SBN? SBN was second only to the biggies like ABC and FOX-and they were in Dan’s office? What the hell was Dan doing, entertaining them without her there? What was going on?
“Keep an eye on them, Dylan,” she said. “I’m sure Dan will tell me all about it.” He’d better. She’d pull every word out of him with a pair of tweezers if he didn’t. “I’ll be in makeup.”
When she pushed open the door to the dressing room, Zach and Jane looked up as if they were expecting to see…anyone but her.
As if she didn’t show up ninety minutes before airtime every week?
Zach pasted a grin on a face that had been far too serious and got up. Jane stood, too.
“Hey, Eve,” Zach said. “Don’t mean to hold you up. I was just on my way out.”
“No problem.” She looked from one to the other, but Zach slipped behind her and out the door. She looked at Jane, who pulled the makeup tray over and waved her into the chair. “What was that all about?”
“Not much.” Jane pulled Eve’s hair back and whipped the apron over her pintucked gauze blouse. “We were only chatting.”
“Why? Did they change the lighting or something? Are we going with a different palette?”
“No, no. Personal stuff. Not to worry, he’ll figure it out.”
To her knowledge, Zach wasn’t in the habit of confiding his “personal stuff” to Jane. The only thing they had in common besides the show was the lottery. Eve put two and two together with lightning speed.
“He’s not thinking of quitting, too, is he?”
Eve closed her eyes as her friend began to dab on foundation. “He was talking out his options, that’s all. You know Zach. He comes at things from every angle.”
“But why would he come and talk to you? Did you tell him we talked on the weekend?”
“He wanted my opinion.”
“I hope you told him it’d be crazy to quit now when there’s no guarantee we’ll ever see the lottery money.”
“Not about that, and yes, I did tell him so. He wanted to know how you’d take it if he turned in his notice. I told him ‘Not well,’ but I think you know he has ambitions about filmmaking. It’s only a matter of time, if you ask me.”
“With eight million in the bank, you’d think a guy like him would be sailing off into the sunset with a bevy of blondes to swab his decks, not making indie films with no distribution.”
“It’s hard to know what Zach thinks. We’re not all going to leave you, but it doesn’t hurt to spare a thought for the future.”
A cold finger of dread touched Eve’s heart. Was that it? Was the fear of being left behind all that was triggering her anxiety?
She was no dummy. Back in Florida, Nana had made sure she’d talked with a grief counselor after the accident that had taken her parents. And she’d spent enough money on therapy since to know that she had a problem with that-being left behind. Deserted. Ditched as if she didn’t matter.
Maybe that was why she was always the dumper in her relationships, not the dumpee. She’d kept a weather eye open for signs that a man was losing interest, and she’d cut him off so fast that she left him blinking in the breeze of her departure. Rumor had it that Rafe Haddon was still showing up stag at charity dos. Maybe she’d scarred the poor guy for life. And what about Austin Taylor? And Sean Marshall? Should she give a little thought to an apology or at least an explanation there?
“Close your eyes,” Jane murmured, and dabbed on eyelid foundation. “Relax.”
“Do you think I should talk to Zach?” Eve asked her. “Or would he be upset that you told me?”
“Yes, and no, of course not. He knows we talk. That’s why he came to me in the first place. Like I said, he was only testing his options, not typing up the letter, okay?”
Eve nodded-carefully-and Jane got down to business with eye shadow, liner and lipstick. Then Eve had half an hour to run over the script and ten minutes to warm up the guest, a female professor of human sexuality who looked old enough to play canasta with Charlotte. The prof’s eyes held a sparkle, though, that told Eve they would both enjoy themselves in front of the cameras and the studio audience-and they did.
The audience loved it. Half the crowd flooded back to the station’s lobby, where the prof was signing copies of her book, and Eve slipped into her office for a moment to decompress before she took the heavy makeup off.
Dylan poked his head in. “This a good time?”
“It depends on whether you’re going to resign or not.” She eyed the stack of pink telephone messages, each one bearing Dylan’s spiky script.
“Not me. This is the most happening place in town. No, I wanted to report on my assignment.”
Assignment? “Did you find a replacement for Thursday? Damn, I spent hours on that script.”
“Not that one. You told me to keep an ear to the ground, remember? The scout from SBN?”
She’d completely forgotten. “What’d you find out? Is he gone?”
“She. And no. She took in the show and came back. I put her in the conference room to wait for you.”
Eve stared at him. “I need to talk to Dan.”
“He’s in there with her, eating the doughnuts I brought for the crew this morning.” He made a face. “Go on. You’ve got your game face on. Now’s the perfect time.”
Perfect for what? What was going on with Dan, anyway? Why was he running interference for her with SBN when he’d left her to CWB without a word?