Part 15 (1/2)

Eyes On You Kate White 51860K 2022-07-22

”Very funny,” he said, smiling. ”Look, I'm just trying to help. I can tell this whole thing is wigging you out.”

”What do you mean?”

”You seemed a little distracted tonight on the show.”

”Oh, thanks,” I said. I shoved the sheet off, thrust myself out of bed, and yanked my robe down from the back of the closet door.

”Don't take it the wrong way,” Carter said. ”I'm concerned for you.”

”Well, it's a little hard to be at the top of your game when someone is gunning for you.”

He climbed out of bed. ”Are they any closer to figuring this out?” he asked.

”Not as far as I can see.”

While Carter slipped on his pants, I recounted my recent run-in with Vicky.

”That does sound threatening,” he said. He pulled me to him. ”Look. Don't be annoyed about what I said a second ago. You've been a total trouper about this whole thing. And I promise I have your back.”

”Thanks,” I said, relaxing a bit.

”Tell you what,” he said. ”I'm going to bring you a little surprise tomorrow. I guarantee you'll like it.”

”Not a Lionsgate watch, is it?” I said, teasing. I needed to change the mood. If I turned into a shrew, this would be over.

”No. Not a regift, I swear.”

After he left, I paced the apartment. He'd been right. The cracks were showing, and I had to superglue them closed. Then my phone rang, making me jump. It was almost midnight.

”Sorry to call so late, darling,” a woman said when I answered. Bettina.

”Is everything okay?” I asked.

”I wanted to give you a heads-up. My news director called me tonight and told me we're posting an item about you. Don't worry, darling, it's all very flattering. But it may ruffle feathers. It's about a survey the network did.”

It had to be the one Potts had mentioned.

She promised to email me the link, and a minute later, after signing off, I read it on my laptop:

Cruzin' for a Bruisin'?

Vicky Cruz had better keep her eye on the rearview mirror. Cruz has seen her ratings go into a downward spiral since her ”Punch Daddy” fiasco last year, and now, according to a top-secret network survey, The Pulse cohost Robin Trainer is turning out to be the network's new secret weapon. ”There's all this buzz about the chemistry between Robin and Carter Brooks,” says a network insider, ”but Robin is the one viewers are really crazy about.”

Oh, f.u.c.king brilliant, I thought. Someone in management at the network must have leaked it. It would surely infuriate Vicky. And what would Carter think? Hopefully, his ego was big enough to take it in stride.

I couldn't sleep after that. Potts had mentioned the survey to me. Would he think I had tattled? He couldn't. After all, he'd told me so little about it. At around four, I finally drifted off. When I woke, I felt totally ragged, my body humming with low-grade panic.

I called Ann as soon as I'd showered, but she didn't pick up. At about ten, as I stared at my computer screen in the office, she followed up. ”I a.s.sume you've seen the post,” she said.

”How did this get out, for G.o.d's sake?”

”I have no clue. More than a few people were given access to the survey, including Tom. You didn't say anything to anyone about it, did you?”

”Of course not,” I said. ”Do I need to do any kind of damage control?”

She didn't say anything.

”Ann?”

”I'm thinking. It should be fine. I'm waiting to see Potts about it. I'm sure he's irked, but I'll make clear there was no way it came from you.”

Later, in the rundown meeting, people seemed subdued, awkward. They'd all seen the item. Were they thinking I was going all diva-like? Carter met my eyes once but quickly glanced away. I told myself he was being careful, but as we all filed out of the room, I sensed a chill coming off him.

A half hour before I was due on-set, I locked my office door and headed down to makeup for a touch-up of extra concealer for the expanding circles under my eyes. I flinched as Stacy brushed it on.

”Don't worry,” she said. ”I've been double-checking your makeup each day.”

When she was done, I flew back to my office. I felt drained, desperate for a few minutes alone to jumpstart my energy. I opened the door to the anteroom and froze. In the black wire basket on the door to my private office, where packages were sometimes left for me, was an object wrapped in a white napkin. I stepped closer, wary. With one finger, I lifted the edge of the napkin. There was a huge chocolate brownie nestled inside. Written on the napkin in pen: ”I thought this would make you smile. C.”

Okay, I thought, relieved. Carter had said last night that he had some kind of treat for me. This meant he wasn't annoyed-though it had been stupid to leave the note out in the open this way. I carried the brownie into my office and devoured half of it, careful not to smear my lipstick. The caffeine and sugar seemed to kick in almost instantly.

”Cutting it a little close today,” one of the crew said when I rushed onto the set five minutes later.

”Sorry,” I said. ”It's your fault,” I whispered to Carter as I took my seat.

”What do you mean?” he asked. His tone was challenging and his eyes cool. I didn't get it.

”The brownie you left,” I said. ”I was so busy savoring it, I lost track of the time.”

”I didn't leave you a brownie,” he said, and looked away.

chapter 15.

Everything in the room seemed to soften, go mushy, as if there weren't any outlines anymore.

”Are you just teasing?” I asked him. ”Because you-you said you were going to bring a surprise.” My tone sounded plaintive, almost desperate, and I knew I had to buck up. Our mics were on. People could hear.

”Nope, wasn't me,” he said. ”Maybe your buddy Dave Potts left it.”

He was rifling through a stack of notes in front of him, not bothering to meet my eyes. It was because of the item that morning. I'd been called the secret of the show's success, not him.

But who had left the brownie? I could feel panic flooding me, making my arms and legs limp. C., I thought. Who was C.? Charlotte? There was no way she would have done anything sweet like that. Stacy? No, no, what was I thinking? Her name started with an S. I felt loopy suddenly, listless.