Rumor has it that Atlanta's own Just Between Us, the three-
year-old, sex-themed, hot-topic afternoon television show
hosted by Eve Best, is soon going into national
syndication. Geared toward women's perspectives and
concerns, the local show has garnered a widely growing
audience and advertisers have taken notice. While taking on
contemporary, cutting-edge topics, Ms. Best's energy and
spontaneity has captured the attention of teens and mothers
alike.
Recently, however, the local show has drawn a maelstrom of
not-so-flattering publicity. Most of you already know about
the state lottery win, shared by six employees of the show,
including Ms. Best. But what this reporter has just learned
is that despite attempts to keep the unpleasantness quiet,
a lawsuit filed by a former segment producer, Liza Skinner,
has halted the disbursement of the winnings.
According to my source, Ms. Skinner was an original member
of the lottery pool before leaving the show nearly a year
ago. There is some confusion as to whether she still had
money in the pot, but the number 13, which she'd chosen,
was among the six winning numbers, and apparently she seems
to think she deserves a share.
Liza quit reading the article and threw the copy of last
week's Atlanta Daily News onto the passenger seat of her
compact car. When she got home, she was throwing the
tattered paper away. No use continuing to torture herself.
The wheels were already in motion. Soon it would all be
over. She hoped.
She pushed a shaky hand through her tangled hair and tried
to get comfortable—not easy with her long legs. She had no
business being here. Her attorney had told her to stay away
from the Just Between Us studio. At least until her lawsuit
was settled. Of course then there'd be no reason to be
here, in the parking lot, waiting, like a smitten
schoolgirl, for a glimpse of Eve and Jane. No matter which
way the suit went, her friends would never speak to her
again.
She didn't blame them. All she'd done in the past year was
cause them pain. Hadn't they warned her about Rick? From
the start, they knew he'd be trouble. They'd been her best
friends since the sixth grade, closer to her than anyone in
the whole world. Why hadn't she listened to them?
Liza let her head fall back against the worn cloth
upholstery and forced herself to breathe. He'd been just
her type, wild and sexy and a little dangerous, and she'd
thought he was the one. He turned out to be way more
dangerous than she'd ever imagined.
Movement caught her eye and she turned her head just in
time to see a woman step outside, the sunlight glimmering
off her pale-blond hair. She looked like Nicole, the Just
Between Us segment producer who'd replaced Liza. The woman
who was going to get Liza's share of the lottery money.
Unless the lawsuit was successful.
God, why didn't they just pay up? It wasn't as if each of
them wasn't going to still be filthy rich after coughing up
her share. She closed her eyes, blocking out the image of
the woman walking toward a red convertible. A reminder of
how much Liza had lost. Just another month and it would all
be over.
Although, if she had the guts, she could go to Eve and Jane
now. Confess everything. The idea took hold and her
breathing quickened. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Could it
be that simple? After nearly a year of selling her soul?
Ha. Sure, confessing would ease her conscience, but that
wouldn't solve anything. Eve would still be vulnerable to
public humiliation. And it would still be Liza's fault.
She hung her head and stared at her pitiful cuticles.
Nowadays she couldn't even afford a manicure. The small
inheritance she'd received after her father's death last
year was nearly gone and there was rent to pay, attorney's
fees and a myriad of other things. But what she resented
the most was the money Rick spent on cigarettes, booze and
drugs. Money she could've used to buy a better car, live in
a better neighborhood.
Maybe when this was over she'd be able to find a decent
job. Never one like she had with Just Between Us. That had
been a dream job. The once-in-a-lifetime kind. She knew
because she'd been a part of it from the beginning. Those
crazy, fifteen-hour days when none of them knew what they
were doing, but they pushed forward, tackling any task they
were given, their passion making up for what they'd lacked
in experience.
Their hard work had paid off. The show was a huge success.
This should have been the best time in Liza's life. But she
was no longer a part of her friends' lives or a part of the
show. All because of her stupidity. Even if Eve and Jane
eventually forgave her, she seriously doubted she could
forgive herself.
Eve walked out of the red brick building, and Liza bit down
on her lower lip. The radiance in her friend's face made
Liza's stomach knot. Behind her was the reason for Eve's
glow. Tall and good-looking, with dark hair, the man put a
familiar hand at the small of Eve's back.
Liza had heard Eve had found someone, Mitch Hayes, the guy
who had once represented the television network wanting to
sign Just Between Us. She looked happy. Happier than Liza
had ever seen her.
Damn. No way was Liza getting her friends involved now.
She'd push for the settlement, pay off Rick and then she'd
disappear. Start a new life where no one knew her, where
she wouldn't be considered scum of the earth.
And never see her friends again.
Liza squeezed her eyes shut, willing the threatening tears
away. At least Eve would be spared any humiliation. A tear
escaped and, angry, Liza swiped at it. Crying wouldn't
solve a damn thing. Never had. Never would. She scrubbed at
her eyes, disgusted at the display of weakness.
And then she heard something. Knocking. At the car window.
Opening her eyes, she swung her face toward the sound. A
man with short dark hair and concerned brown eyes stared
back at her. It took a moment to recognize him…the doctor
who consulted for the medical drama shot in the studio next
to Just Between Us. Dr. Evan something. He'd asked her to
lunch once. She'd blown him off. Sedate and conservative.
Definitely not her type.
She took another furtive swipe at her eyes, annoyed that he
might have seen her crying. When he motioned for her to let
down her window, she was tempted to ignore him. But that
was bound to make matters worse, and the last thing she
needed was a scene in front of the station.
Lucky she could afford a car at all, she didn't have the
luxury of automatic windows and manually rolled it down. He
ducked through, gripping the top of the door, and smiled.
She didn't.
"Liza, hi." He paused. "Remember me?"
She deliberately frowned and gave a small shake of her
head. If the slight embarrassed him, maybe he'd leave her
alone.
"Evan Gann." He inclined his head toward the
building. "From the studio beside Just Between Us."
"Oh, right. You're the consultant."
He nodded, his eyes probing. "I haven't seen you for a
while."
"I'm persona non grata around here. Surely, you've heard."
"Ah, the lawsuit." His eyebrows drew together.
"I don't know the details—"
"You wanted something?"
His mouth curved in an annoyingly tolerant smile. "I was
surprised to see you. Look, you want to have a drink
sometime?"
"Why?"
He chuckled. "Because you're attractive and I like you?"
It took Liza a moment to collect herself. Was this guy
nuts? He'd probably be banned from the station just for
talking to her. She frowned. Except he really wasn't nuts.
He was this straight-laced, normal kind of guy. "I've got
too much going on right now." She reached for the knob to
roll up the window, and when he didn't move, she said, "Do
you mind?"
"Why don't you take my number for when you have some time?
I'll buy you dinner."
"Look, Evan, you're a nice guy but—"
"Thought you didn't remember me?" His slow, teasing grin
did something to the inside of her chest.
She almost smiled. "See you around," she said, and this
time when she attempted to roll up the window, he let go
and stepped back. She started the engine, reversed out of
the parking spot and drove off without looking back.
Evan reached into his slacks' pocket for his car keys and
used the remote to unlock the doors. His silver Camry was
parked right next to the spot Liza had vacated. That was
the only reason he'd noticed her, sitting behind the wheel
of the small white compact, crying. Wisely, he hadn't
mentioned it. From what he knew of her, she wasn't the type
of woman who indulged herself with tears. In fact, from
what he'd heard around the station, she'd been more prone
to express her anger or pain with a few choice words.
Still, the lawsuit she'd launched didn't add up. Until a
year ago, Liza, Eve and Jane had been inseparable. He'd
admired their loyalty and friendship. The show was really
taking off, thanks to Eve Best's charismatic personality
and Liza's creative genius. And then suddenly Liza
disappeared. No one seemed to know why she left or where
she went, and he had to admit, he was a bit curious.
Mostly because he'd liked Liza from the first time he'd met
her. He'd been on his way to the set of Heartbeat when he'd
bumped into her. Literally.
What She Really Wants for Christmas 14
She'd been talking to someone over her shoulder and hadn't
seen him come around the corner. Abruptly she'd turned and
plowed right into him. Unfortunately for him, she'd been
holding a cup of coffee.
He smiled when he thought about how she'd tried to right
the wrong, using her napkin to blot his suit, regardless of
where the coffee had landed. When she'd finally realized
that pressing the napkin to his crotch might not have been
the wisest move, she'd looked him in the eye, apologized
and asked to be given the cleaning bill.
No nervous twittering or inane remarks. She wasn't like so
many of the women he met, either on the set or at dinner
parties hosted by his well-intentioned friends, who were
determined to find him a wife. Liza was straightforward, to
the point, and he liked that. Normally he preferred petite
blondes, which made his attraction to her all the more
curious, since she was tall with long, unruly brown hair.
Not that it mattered. He'd asked Liza out to lunch once,
and in her no-nonsense fashion, she'd turned him down flat.
No excuses, no little white lies to let him down easy. Just
a frank refusal that told him not to ask again. After that
there was the occasional exchange of greetings when they
passed each other in the lobby or parking lot.
Realizing he was still staring after her long-gone car, he
opened the door of his Camry and slid behind the wheel. Eve
had walked out of the building ahead of him, but obviously
she wasn't the reason Liza had been here. So why was she
here? More importantly, why did he care? She'd just shot
him down again.
It was so late by the time Liza got home that there wasn't
a single parking spot left in the complex and she had to
park a block away from her apartment. Sighing, she cut the
car's engine and then grabbed the bag of burgers she'd
picked up from a drive-through. She really hated parking on
the street, especially in this crappy neighborhood.
Hopefully, any thieves would go for the nice new black
sedan parked in front of her.
Not that she loved her second hand lemon of a car. But if
something happened to it, she couldn't afford to buy
another one. Rick had naturally insisted on buying a brand-
new Harley-Davidson for himself. With her money. Amazing he
hadn't cracked it up yet. Not that it would hurt her
feelings if he had. In fact, in her more stressed-out
moments, she'd actually wished he would. He didn't have to
die or anything, just end up in a coma for a good five
years.
Her steps slowed as she thought about how he lived in the
apartment right next to hers, and that if he happened to
look out of the window he'd see her walk up the stairs.
Inevitably he'd come outside and grill her about where
she'd been. His language would be foul and he wouldn't give
a damn about who overheard. But if she was lucky, he'd be
passed out and she wouldn't have to deal with him until
tomorrow.
Sighing, she took the first few stairs, her daze darting
toward Rick's door, praying, hoping she'd have an evening
of peace and quiet. So far, so good…
"Hey, Liza, what you got in the bag?" The sound of her new
neighbor's high-pitched voice made Liza cringe. She waved
for Mary Ellen to keep it down and then, with one eye on
Rick's door, she hurried the rest of the way to the third
floor.
Leaning over the railing, which was decorated with a string
of large colored Christmas lights, Mary Ellen waited,
dutifully keeping her mouth shut until Liza joined her. "I
think he's passed out," the younger woman said in that
strange drawl of hers.
She claimed that she and her kid were from Mississippi but
Liza had her doubts. The apartment complex's residents
weren't exactly members of mainstream society. At least
once a week Liza heard a shot fired nearby, or watched the
police drag away an abusive husband or boyfriend. But the
rent was cheap and since she had to fork out money for both
her place and Rick's, this was the best she could afford.