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the dining room. She had become used tobeing recognized in the Boston area and having people come to hertable for autographs. But the way virtually every pair of eyes wasabsolutely riveted on Luther Pelham was something else. “Can yougo anywhere without being the center of attention?” she’d asked him.“Not too many places, I’m happy to say. But you’ll find out foryourself. Six months from now, people will be following you whenyou walk down the street and half the young women in America willbe imitating that throaty voice of yours.”Exaggerated, of course, but certainly flattering. After the secondtime she called him “Mr. Pelham,” he’d said, “Pat, you’re on theteam. I have a first name. Use it.”Luther Pelham had certainly been charming, but on that occasionhe had been offering her a job. Now he was her boss.When she was announced, Luther came to the reception area togreet her. His manner was effusively cordial, the familiar well-modulated voice exuding hearty warmth: “Great to have you here,Pat. I want you to meet the gang.” He took her around the newsroomand introduced her. Behind the pleasantries, she sensed the curiosityand speculation in the eyes of her new co-workers. She could guesswhat they were thinking. Would she be able to cut the mustard? Butshe liked her immediate impressions. Potomac was rapidly becomingone of the largest cable networks in the country, and the newsroomwhirred with activity. A young woman was giving on-the-hourheadlines live from her desk; a military expert was taping his bi-weekly segment; staff writers were editing copy from the wire services.She well knew that the apparently calm exterior of the personnel wasa necessary ploy. Everyone in the business lived with constantunderlying tension, always on guard, waiting for something to happen,fearful that somehow a big story might be fumbled.Luther had already agreed that she could write and edit at homeuntil they were ready for actual taping. He pointed out the cubiclethat had been reserved for her, then led her into his private office, alarge oak-paneled corner room.
     
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“Make yourself comfortable, Pat,” he directed. “There’s a call Ihave to return.”While he was on the phone, Pat had a chance to study him closely. He wascertainly an impressive and handsome man. His thick, carefully barbered stonegray hair contrasted with his youthful skin and probing dark eyes. She knew hehad just had his sixtieth birthday. The party his wife had given at their ChevyChase estate had been written up in all the columns. With his aquiline nose andlong-fingered hands that tapped impatiently on the desk top, he reminded herof an eagle.He hung up the phone. “Have I passed inspection?” His eyes were amused.“With flying colors.” Why was it, she wondered, that she alwaysfelt at ease in a professional situation and yet so often had a sense ofalienation in personal relationships?“Glad to hear it. If you weren’t sizing me up, I’d be worried.Congratulations. You made a great impression on Abigail yesterday.”A quick pleasantry and then he was down to business. She likedthat and wouldn’t waste his time leading up to the problem. “I wasvery impressed with her. Who wouldn’t be?” Then she addedsignificantly—”for as long as I had the chance to be with her.”Pelham waved his hand as though to remove an unpleasant reality.“I know. I know. Abigail is hard to pin down. That’s why I told themto put together some of her personal material for you. Don’t expectmuch cooperation from the lady herself because you won’t get it.I’ve scheduled the program for the twenty-seventh.”“The twenty-seventh? December twenty-seventh!” Pat heard hervoice rising. “Next Wednesday! That would mean all the taping,editing and scoring will have to be done in a week!”“Exactly,” Luther confirmed. “And you’re the one who can do it.”“But why the rush?”He leaned back, crossed his legs and smiled with the relish