Read Her Name Will Be Faith for Free Online Page B

face on TV. She managed a crooked smile as she put the gadget
back and withdrew a
notebook instead. "You're quite sure this won't paralyze you as well?"
    His head jerked up; he really
looked at her for the first time, and slowly his mouth widened into an apologetic smile.
"Of course not. I'm sorry if I sounded rude. I guess my mind just wasn't in gear. So..."
he leaned back in his chair. "What
about me do you wish to know?"
    Another act, she decided, as
though he had just pressed an 'on with the charm' button, and again had to suppress her
irritation with his artificiality.
Not that she wasn't used to it. Most interviewees were stiff and artificial at first – it
was her job to break through that barrier and reach the real person – but
she hadn't expected it of Richard Connors. "You've come to NABS from WJQT in Miami, right? Have
you always lived there?" A usual
type of opening question.
    "No. I was born in San
Francisco. My father was a pharmacist there."
    "What made you move to Florida?"
    "I answered the advert for a
weatherman, got the job. Simple as that."
    "I really meant, what made
you go in for forecasting? I..." she bit her lip, because he was grinning again. No doubt it
had been suggested to him before that,
with his looks and background, he could have done much better for himself. "I would say you were an athlete, once upon
a time."
    This time his grin was more
genuine, and even a trifle cynical. "I played football, once upon a time. But never up to draft
standard. And a guy has to major in something. I was always interested in TV
– since I was a
kid in short pants. And also an older cousin of mine was dead keen on sailing – and
therefore weather. He'd take me out sometimes as crew – dead boring
slopping about waiting for wind, but he was always looking at the sky and forecasting
what was coming... and I guess I got involved myself." He paused to grin at her doubting
smile. "Being a forecaster
gets to be quite fun, you know. There are a lot of spin-offs, like doing commentaries from
helicopters and getting involved in local organizations: you'd be surprised how many people in this
country are really interested in the weather, even if they don't talk about it
all the time as they
do in England. You get to meet a hell of a lot of interesting folk."
    "And presumably forecasting is a rung on the
ladder up," she suggested.
    Another grin. "To becoming a
TV personality? You'd better believe it.
I don't intend to stay in forecasting forever."
    She realized she had found the
real Richard Connors, a man just trying to work his way into his true place in society, the same
as anyone else. She
made notes on his college football career, his first job interviews, and his varied progress before moving
into the world of television. But when she came to his personal life, his mood suddenly changed.
"I shouldn't think that will
interest anyone," he said.
    "You couldn't be more
wrong," she protested. "That's what it's all about."
    He glanced at her ring finger.
"Sorry, Mrs Donnelly. My private life stays
private."
    They stared at each other, and she
realized that he meant what he said. Which left her projected article in tatters. She might as
well get up and leave
and scrap the idea right now. Then she remembered what Ed had told her. "Then talk to me
about the job," she said. "Weather forecasting. And hurricanes," she added.
    He frowned at her.
"Hurricanes? You interested in hurricanes?"
    "Sure I am. My parents-in-law
have a holiday home in Eleuthera."
    "Is that a fact? Say, would
you really like to see how it all works?"
    "Yes, I would." She followed him down
endless corridors, past open office doors where typewriters rattled, computers
bleeped, and coffee dispensers were in constant use.
    "Would you like a coffee?" he asked.
    "Not right now,
thanks." She had never tasted anything drinkable from one of those machines.
    The studio was like any other television center,
somewhat bare except for the various
backdrops against