"I may do that — if I get him alone. Then again, if I get him alone, he might forget all about you." Smiling, she twirled up a spiral of hot pink lipstick. "So what would be the point?"

Deanna wasn't nervous any longer, she was simply irked. "The point might be that you're married, and that Finn stopped being interested in you a long time ago."

"Do you really believe that?" Angela's laugh was as brisk and chilly as a puff of December air. "Darling, if I decided to have an affair with Finn — and Dan's a very understanding man, so my marriage is no obstacle — he'd not only be willing, he'd be grateful."

Moving beyond irked, Deanna felt little knots of tension twine in her stomach, but her smile came easily. "Angela." There was a laugh in her voice. "Trying to make me jealous is a waste of time. You had sex with Finn. I know that. And I'm not naive enough to imagine he didn't find you tremendously attractive and alluring. But what I have with him now is on an entirely different level. You're only embarrassing yourself by trying to convince me he's like some trained mutt who'll come running if you snap your fingers."

Angela slapped the lid on the lipstick. "You're very cool, aren't you?"

"No, not really. I'm just happy." She sat then, hoping they could bury at least the sharpest edge of the hatchet. "Angela, we were friends once — or at least friendly. I'm grateful for the opportunity you gave me to learn and observe. Maybe the time's passed where we can be friendly, but I don't see why we have to snipe at each other. We're competitors, but there's more than enough room for both of us."

"Do you think you can compete with me?" Angela began to shake, from her shoulders down to her spine. "Do you really think you can come close to what I've achieved, to what I have, to what I'm going to have?"

"Yes," Deanna said, and rose. "Yes,

I do. And I don't have to resort to planting lies in the tabloids or low-level espionage to do it. You've been in the business long enough to tolerate a little heat, Angela."

"You cocky bitch. I'll bury you."

"No, you won't." Her pulse was drumming now, a primitive tom-tom rhythm that pumped through her blood in anticipation of a fight. "You're going to have a hell of a time keeping up with me."

On a cry of outrage, Angela snatched the champagne flute and tossed the contents in Deanna's face. Two women who entered the room froze like statues as Angela followed up with a vicious slap.

"You're nothing," Angela shrieked, her face as pink as the silk she wore. "Less than nothing. I'm the best. The fucking best."

She lunged, fingers curled and extended like claws. With a haze of fury misting her vision, Deanna struck out, her open palm cracking Angela's flushed cheek. In an instant all movement froze. For once at least, they were both on equal terms. Horrified, the two women in the doorway gasped in unison and stared.

"Ladies, excuse us." Kate Lowell stepped out from the stalls to the lounge, and motioned to the women. They flew out again, obviously in a hurry to bear tidings. "Well, well, and I thought all the competition was going to be out there."

Dazed, Deanna stared down at her hand, which was still burning from the blow it had delivered. She blinked against the champagne stinging her eyes. "Oh hell."

Kate nodded to the outside door, still swinging from the exit of the other women. "It's going to make an interesting sidebar in tomorrow's Daytime Emmy coverage." She smiled suddenly, a brilliant flash of perfect teeth. "Would you like me to referee?"

"Stay out of this." Teeth clenched, Angela took a step toward Deanna. She'd been humiliated now, publicly. That, above all, was intolerable. "And you stay out of my way. You've crossed the line."

"I didn't turn the other cheek," Deanna returned, "and I don't intend to. So why don't we try to stay out of each other's way?"

"You won't win tonight." With a hand that continued to tremble, Angela picked up her bag. "Or ever."

"Lousy exit line," Kate mused as the door swung shut behind Angela.

"I don't know. It had potential." Deanna closed her stinging eyes. "What now?"

"Clean yourself up." Kate moved forward briskly to run cold water on a snowy washcloth. "Put yourself back together and get out there."

"I lost my temper," she began, then caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Oh Jesus." Her cheeks were suffused with heat, dripping with wine. Her eyes were smoldering and smudged with mascara.

"Put the image back on," Kate advised, handing her the damp cloth. "And when you walk out, walk out with a smile."

"I think I should—" Braced for the worst, she spun toward the door as it swung open. Her already hot cheeks fired further as Finn strolled in.

"I beg your pardon, ladies, but as a reporter it's my duty to ask what the hell's going on in here. Somebody said—" He broke off, taking in the scene with one pithy glance. "Christ, Kansas, I can't leave you alone for a minute." He sighed, picked up one of the dry, fluffy hand towels on the counter and offered it. "I didn't think that was a maidenly blush I noticed on Angela's cheek. Which one of you slugged her?"

"The pleasure was Deanna's."

He leaned over to kiss her damp cheek. "Nice going, champ." He touched his tongue to her lip. "You're supposed to drink the champagne, baby, not wear it."

Deanna set her shoulders and turned back to the mirror to deal with the damage. She would not be cowed, she promised herself. She simply would not be. "Just keep everyone out for five minutes, will you?"

"Your category's coming up," he said casually as he headed for the door.

"I'll be there."


She was, makeup freshened, hair fluffed, nerves raw. She sat beside Finn, her hand clenched spasmodically over his. Out of camera range, she hoped.

Her mind was as keen as a sword as she watched the presenters breeze or fumble their way through scripted jokes and into lists of nominees. She applauded politely, or occasionally with enthusiasm, as winners were announced and made their way to the stage.

She filed every instant, every gesture, every word in her memory. Because it mattered now, horribly. She'd lost a good deal of the sweet excitement she'd felt when they'd rolled up in the limo. No, she thought, she wasn't just the kid from Kansas now, dazzled by the lights and the luminaries. She was Deanna Reynolds, and she belonged.

It wasn't simply an award any longer, a pat on the back for a job well done.

Now it was a symbol. The culmination of what had started so long ago. It was a symbol of triumph over the deceit, the manipulations, the ugly intrigue that had flashed into pathetic spite in a ladies' washroom.

The camera was on her. She could feel that cool, objective eye focus in. She could only hope that for once her emotions weren't so clearly mirrored on her face. She heard Angela's name announced, then her own.

She couldn't catch her breath. Then Finn lifted their joined hands to his lips and the sharpest edge of tension smoothed.

"And the Emmy goes to…"

God, how could it take so long to open one envelope?

"Deanna Reynolds, for Deanna's

Hour, "When You Know Him.""

"Oh." All the breath that had backed up in her lungs came out in that one long sound. Before she could take another, Finn's mouth was over hers.

"I never had a doubt."

"Me neither," she lied, and was laughing as she rose out of the chair to walk through the applause to the stage.

The award was cool and smooth in her hands. And solid as stone. She was afraid if she looked at it, she'd weep. Instead she looked out into the lights.

"I want to thank my team, every one of them. They're the best. And I want to thank the women who appeared on the show, who battled back their fears to bring a painful subject out of the dark. I can't think of any show I've done, or will do, that could be as difficult or as rewarding for me. Thank you for giving me something to remind me. Now I'm going backstage to stare at this beautiful lady."


After the speeches, the applause, the interviews and the parties, Deanna lay propped up in bed, resting in the curve of Finn's shoulder. Casually, she crossed her feet at the ankles.

"I think mine's prettier than your National Press Award," she said.

"Mine's more professional."

She pursed her lips, studying the gold statue standing on the bureau. "Mine's shinier."

"Deanna." He turned his head to kiss her temple. "You're gloating."

"Yep. And I'm going to keep right on gloating. You've won all sorts of awards, Overseas Press Club, the George Polk. You can afford to be jaded."

"Who says I'm jaded? And when I win my Emmy it'll be every bit as shiny as your Emmy."

With a delighted laugh, she rolled over to lie on top of him. "I won. I didn't want to admit how badly I wanted that statue. After that scene with Angela, I felt I had to win. For me, yes, but also for everybody who works with me. When they called my name, I was flying. Really flying. It was great."

"An interesting evening all around." He ran a hand down her spine, enjoying the way her body curved to his touch. "Tell me again how you demolished her."

Deanna's lashes fluttered down. "I did not demolish her. It was a particularly effective but ladylike slap."

"Like hell." Grinning, he tipped her face up, then laughed out loud at the unholy glee in her eyes.

"I shouldn't be proud of it." She chuckled and sat up to straddle him, her body pale and naked. "But for just an instant, before I was horrified, I felt wonderful. Then I was numb, then I was furious all over again." She linked her fingers, lifting her arms up high. "Besides, she started it."

"And you finished it. You can count on her coming after you with both barrels now."

"Let her. I feel invulnerable. Impervious." She stretched high. "Incredible. It just can't get any better than this."

"Yes, it can." To prove it, he reared up, running a line of kisses up her torso. Her soft sigh glided through him. Her hands fluttered down to cradle his head.

"You might be right."

The sky was pearling with dawn, chasing the shadows from the room. Her body arched back, already fluid and ready for his. They had loved once in delirious haste, and now moved together slowly, letting the needs smolder and the air spark.

Gliding fingertips, whispering sighs, quiet urgings for more. Torso to torso they pressed together, tangled sheets pooled around them and morning sliding softly into the room. A touch, a taste, a subtle shift in rhythm. They lowered together to roll lazily over the bed, length to length.

No rush, no hurry. Quiet explosions shuddered through her blood, then streamed away like silk until others built. Her mouth sought his, sighs merging, tongues dancing. Even when he slipped into her, filling her, the flash of heat was as comforting as a sunbeam.


Across town there was another hotel room bed that hadn't been slept in, or loved in.

Angela sat on the edge of it, her robe held protectively over her breasts. The dress she had worn was a tattered heap of silk on the floor, a victim of her temper.

Most of that temper was spent now, and she huddled like a child on the big bed, fighting back tears.

"It doesn't mean anything, honey." Dan urged champagne on her, the equivalent to a kiss where it hurt. "Everybody knows the fucking awards are a sham."

"People watch." She stared straight ahead, sipping the wine she'd ordered chilled for celebration and now served as commiseration. "Thousands of people, Dan. They saw her walk up there, when it should have been me. They saw her pick up my award. My award, goddamn her."

"And they'll forget about it tomorrow." He stifled both impatience and disgust. The only way to handle Angela, and to keep them both riding high, was to cajole, flatter and lie. "Nobody remembers who got what when the glitter fades."

"I remember." She tossed up her head, and her face was icy again, eerily controlled. "I remember. She's not getting away with it. With any of it. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make her pay. For the slap, for the award. Everything."

"We'll talk about it later." He'd already gotten word on the incident in the lounge. Too many people — people who couldn't be easily bought off — had heard that Angela struck first. "Now you've got to relax. You have to look your best when we fly home later today."