about my job?”
“I won’t interfere with that. In fact, if I talk to your boss, I think he’ll agree that spending time with me will get you some special stories. I think it’s a win-win situation for both of us.”
She was shaking her head, one finger tugging at an errant curl. “And what would you do? About us? About me?”
“Make love to you, of course.”
“Ha!” The laugh was a bit shrill and ended immediately. “You can try,” she said, frantically trying to find words that made her sound more in charge than she felt. “But, frankly, Mr. Malone, you’re just not Lord Sin.”
Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed her. Just a light, quick kiss that warmed the marble floor beneath her feet. She felt stunned for a moment, then held out her empty glass like some kind of shield. “Mr. Malone, I think I should tell you that my father is a minister who once served a prison term for a crime he didn’t commit.”
He took her glass, placed it along with his on a table beside them and said, “I think I should tell you that I never knew my father but he should have been in jail. Does that matter?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t. Shall we get back to our negotiations? You want Sin, I want you. We’ll take it slow. We’ll spend some time together. Two weeks ought to be just about enough time to give us both what we want.”
“My father would say that I’d either have to accept your offer or ‘cut bait and run.”’
“I think I’d like your father.”
“Most people do. You’re sure you’ve actually met Lord Sin face to face?”
“He and I had a face-to-face discussion about his performing before he finally gave in.” Miss Clary didn’t have to know the discussion took place via a mirror while he was shaving.
“If I were to agree—and I haven’t yet—I’d insist on one little condition. During the next two weeks, you’ll let me interview you. That way, if I don’t find Sin, I’ll still have a story.”
“Oh, you’ll have a story—even if you don’t land Lord Sin,” Ryan said, knowing that the thought of those red curls on satin sheets was clouding his vision. “I promise you that—lots of stories.”
Sunny smiled, hesitantly at first, then more bravely. “Lord Sin doesn’t have a chance.” She reached down, picked up her shoes and turned to the exit, padding along as if she’d always gone barefoot in a formal dinner gown.
“Neither,” he murmured to her retreating back, “do you.”
3
THE STAFF WAS GEARING UP for the eleven o’clock wrap-up when Sunny stepped into the newsroom still wearing the slit-to-the-thigh green dress. A couple of wolf whistles were silenced by Walt’s dry comment, “Be careful, guys, she’s just been on the receiving end of Lord Sin’s personal treatment followed by the Malone rush. We didn’t have to drive the van back. We flew.”
“Hush, Walt,” Sunny said in exasperation, “or I’ll tell them you got on the phone and talked dirty to your wife all the way home.”
“Yeah,” one of the announcers said, “and Pamela Anderson Lee is hot for my body.”
“That’s enough.” Ted Fields, the news director, walked from his office into the main room. He gave Sunny a long look, stopping at the top of the split in her dress, and grinned. “When I hired a South Georgia reporter, I didn’t know I’d found a sex goddess. Hold that skirt together and come in the office before I have to sweep up eyeballs.”
“But what about editing the videotape?” she asked.
“Walt can handle it,” was Ted’s answer.
At Walt’s nod, she followed Ted into his glass-enclosed office and sank down in the chair opposite his desk. “I hope I never have to do this again,” she said, removing her shoes. “This isn’t me. I’m the kind of girl who likes being barefoot—”
“I hope you’re not going to say ‘and pregnant,”’ Ted said, perching on the side of his desk.
“I was going to say ‘in the country.’ I really am a country girl, or…” she added with a note of wistfulness in her voice “…I used to be.” She twisted a tendril of auburn hair behind her ear. “If this assignment was some kind of kinky orientation, Mr. Fields, I hope I passed.”
“Let me see the video and I’ll let you know, and Sunny, call me Ted. I may be old enough to be your father, but I don’t like to be reminded of it.”
Rolling her eyes, Sunny sucked in a quick breath. “All right, Ted. It’s just that I thought when I came to WTRU I’d be doing stories on real issues. I might as well have stayed in South Georgia. At least the drought and fire ants were life-altering events.”
“Be patient, Sunny. This story on the theater is news, even without an interview with Lord Sin. I don’t suppose you got a picture, did you?”
“I wish.” Sunny rolled her shoulders and leaned her head back. “Oh sure. I got shots of the usual VIPs, the mayor and a couple of well-heeled contributors, but no Lord Sin.”
“I didn’t expect you to. If you’d managed to video him, the Sin Patrol would have confiscated it.”
“Sin Patrol?”
“Just kidding, Sunny. So far as we know, Lord Sin has been squeaky clean. What about the interview with Malone?”
She gulped and wondered whether or not she should tell him the truth about Malone’s offer, then decided that was personal—at least for now. “I did have a very strange conversation with the tycoon, but I didn’t get to talk to him for very long. He’s as complex as Lord Sin, and—” she added almost as an afterthought “—just as intriguing. He has promised me another interview, and possibly some inside stories—if I spend some time with him.”
Her boss let out a dry laugh, eased himself off the desk and moved to his chair. “Sunny, I don’t normally get involved in the personal life of my employees but I feel I ought to warn you. You’re new in Atlanta and you don’t know your way around yet. Ryan Malone is a pretty sophisticated guy, rarely seen with the same woman twice. He’s known for being a two-week man. Although I like the idea of some inside stories, you’re not ready for the Malone rush.”
“I’m not a child, Ted, I’m a reporter. Malone has offered me a good deal.”
“You sure you’re not just caught up in Lord Sin’s spell? I think the aging superstud got to you. My wife said he was…extraordinary, and she’s not easy to impress.”
“Aging? Boy, are you wrong. An old man could never have made the moves he did. He’s pretty remarkable—if you like that kind of thing.”
Ted smiled. “You’re right. The first rule of a good journalist is to keep an open mind. Let yourself experience the event first. Then decide.”
Experience
