"Roberts, Nora - Private Scandals" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

remaining triangle sat stonily, staring at the television screen, Marshall was up, perusing a tray of pastries.
"Nicely done, Ms. Reynolds."
"Thank you, Dr. Pike."
"Marshall." He chose a cinnamon danish. "It's a tricky situation. Though the triangle was technically broken when the
affair ended, emotionally, morally, even intellectually, it remains."
Damn right, she thought. If anyone she loved cheated on her, it would be he who would be broken-- in every way. "I
suppose you deal with similar situations in your practice."
"Often. I decided to focus on the area after my own divorce." His smile was sweet and sheepish. "For obvious
reasons." He glanced down at her hands, noting that she wore a single ring, a garnet in an antique gold setting on



her right hand. "You're not in the market for my particular skill?"
"Not at the moment." Marshall Pike was enormously attractive, she mused--the charming smile, the long, slender
build that had even Deanna, who hit five-ten in her heels, tilt her head up to meet the flattering interest in the deep
brown eyes. But at this moment she needed to focus the lion's share of her attention on the sullen group behind him.
"The program will start right after this commercial." Deanna gestured toward the set. "Marshall, you won't be going
on until the final twenty minutes, but it would help if you'd watch the show to formulate specific advice."
"Naturally." He enjoyed watching her, the way she revved in neutral. He could almost hear the engine gun of her
energy. "Don't worry. I've done Angela's three times."
"Ah, a vet. Is there anything I can get you?"
His eyes slid toward the trio behind him, then came back to Deanna's. "A flak jacket?"
She chuckled, gave his arm a squeeze. He'd be just fine, she decided. "I'll see what I can do."
The show proved to be emotional, and though bitter accusations flew, no one was seriously wounded. Off camera,
Deanna admired the way Angela kept a light hand on the reins, allowing her guests to go their own way, then easing
them back when tempers threatened to boil over.
She pulled the audience in as well. With an unerring instinct, she offered the mike to just the right person at just the
right time, then segued smoothly back to a question or comment of her own.
As for Dr. Pike, Deanna mused, they couldn't have chosen a more skilled mediator. He exuded the perfect
combination of intellect and compassion, mixed with the concise, teaspoon-size advice so necessary for the medium.
When the show was over, the Forresters were clutching hands. The other couple had stopped speaking to each
other, and the two other women were chatting like old friends.
Angela had hit the mark again.

"Decide to join us, Deanna?" Roger pinched her arm as he swung up beside her.



"I know you guys can't get through the day without me." Deanna wove her way through the noisy newsroom toward
her desk. Phones were ringing, keyboards clattering. On one wall, current shows from CBC and the other three
networks were flashing on monitors. From the smell of things, someone had recently spilled coffee.
"What's our lead?" she asked Roger. "Last night's fire on the South Side."
With a nod, Deanna sat at her desk. Unlike most of the other reporters, she kept hers meticulously neat. Sharpened
pencils stood points down in a flowered ceramic cup, a notepad aligned beside them. Her Filofax was opened to
today's date.
"Arson?"
"That's the general consensus. I've got the copy. We've got a taped interview with the fire marshal, and a live remote
at the scene." Roger offered her his bag of licorice. "And being a nice guy, I picked up your mail."
"So I see. Thanks."
"Caught a few minutes of Angela's this morning." He chewed thoughtfully on his candy. "Doesn't discussing adultery