Chapter 6

LOVE IS ONE of two daytime dramas taped in the studios located in the big gray building that is the New York City headquarters of the Global Broadcasting Network. The other is Trauma Center. Also taped at the GBN studios are a game show, a daytime talk show hosted by former movie star Kitty Leigh and the network’s late-night comedy-variety hour. These five programs are the only ones that originate on the East Coast. The rest of the GBN schedule is taped or filmed in and around Los Angeles.

Love of My Life’s first scene of the day was supposed to go before the cameras at 8:30 A.M. It was a quarter to eight when I walked into the GBN building, to make sure that it did. We use two adjoining facilities, Studios 35 and 37, because each episode is an hour long. The first three of today’s acts were to be taped in 37, while 35 was readied for afternoon use.

I took a quick look around and saw that the standard last-minute checks were being conducted to make sure the set doors worked, furniture was arranged properly and props were where they were supposed to be. When something doesn’t work, or is supposed to be in place but isn’t, the tape must be stopped and the problem corrected. That costs time, and time is expensive. More so than in any other part of a network’s schedule, money is the real reason behind the “creative” decisions made in daytime television.

Joe Niles was already in the control booth when I arrived. Red-eyed and rumpled, with nicotine stains permanently embedded in his fingers, he looks overworked even when he’s just returned from vacation. “Everybody knows about the accident,” he said by way of greeting, “but I told them we put our contingency plan in motion.”

“We don’t have a contingency plan.”

“People feel more secure when they hear four-syllable words like ‘contingency.’ It pretty much calmed everyone down.”

“Define ‘pretty much,’ ” I said. I could tell by looking at him that he was worried about something.

“It’s Sean—that’s no surprise, right? The argument scene between him and Nicky’s father is first up, but Sean is coming unglued. Can you stick the little shit back together?”

I would solve the problem, but for the good of the show, not to make Joe’s life easier. “Let me get my glue gun,” I said.

“What if I got you a real gun?” Joe was only half joking. “I heard you shot tigers and elephants in Africa.”

“Lions and elephants. There aren’t any tigers in Africa, Joe. And I never shot any living thing except with a camera.”

He looked disappointed. I knew Sean O’Neil was a severe pain in his . . . TV monitor. Sean played Nicky, a young man from one of our show’s two central families, the wealthy one. I had spent four months writing a poor girl–rich boy love story for Cybelle Carter’s impecunious but angelic Kira, and Sean’s affluent nice-guy Nicky.

Individually, Sean and Cybelle were likable in their roles.

Together they had no chemistry.

They were not exciting the fans and becoming the kick-ass Super Couple the show needed. Helen Marshall had been right about that. I didn’t tell her when she said it, but I had already been plotting a major change in story line. So far, only three people knew about my plan: Tommy Zenos, Damon Radford and Link Ramsey, the actor I hoped was going to save us. Save me. Unless he or she has created the show, a head writer’s job is secure only as long as the ratings are high.

Sean O’Neil wasn’t in the makeup room, the coffee room, his dressing room or on the set rehearsing his lines. The floor manager told me he was in the bathroom, throwing up. I waited outside the door until he emerged. Privately, Joe Niles referred to Sean as “our pocket Adonis” because while Sean is head-turning handsome, he is not very tall. When he came out of the bathroom, I saw he was pale and tense, and patting at his perfect features with wet paper towels.

“Cybelle will be back to work in a few days. We can hide the cast on her leg.”

“Huh?” He looked puzzled, then comprehension dawned.

I realized it wasn’t Cybelle he was worried about.

“That’s great,” he said, too fast to be convincing. “Do you think I should I send her some flowers?” He was making the offer, but his heart wasn’t in it. Then tears began to spill from his arresting turquoise eyes.

Hoping to keep the morning’s taping on schedule, I quickly slapped on my nurturing “Earth Mother” hat. “Tell me what’s the matter, Sean,” I said comfortingly. “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

He took a deep breath and told me the truth. “If Cybelle’s out of commission, what’s going to happen to my character? Maybe we should replace her. We could get that girl who looks like Cybelle, the one who just left Trauma Center. I heard she’s available, and she’s still in New York.”

It’s lucky for this selfish jerk, I thought, that we can’t do daytime drama without actors.

“We’re not replacing Cybelle,” I said firmly. But he had just handed me an opportunity to drop a hint about the new story I was devising.

“I have something very exciting planned for you, Sean. A hot, hot, hot development. Scenes that will make you the man to beat at the next Daytime Emmys.”

As easily as they had appeared, Sean’s tears dried up.

“Yeah? Tell me.” He beamed his “Cutest Boy in the Senior Class” smile at me. I noticed he wore colored contact lenses.

“I don’t have time right now, but I’ll give you a hint, if you’ll promise to keep it a secret. We can’t let Cybelle or anyone else know about it.”

“Oh, I promise, Morgan. You can trust me. I won’t say anything to anybody.”

“All I can tell you is I’ve been thinking Kira isn’t good enough for Nicky.”

He took the bait like a fish leaping into the angler’s boat.

“You know, I’ve been feeling that too, but I didn’t want to say anything. I wouldn’t want to hurt Cybelle. You know, get her fired.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll think of something for her to do.”

I knew exactly what I was going to do with Cybelle, and I had lied to Sean. It was necessary, though, to get him into gear to do the job he was being paid for. Besides, I rationalized, it was not really lie; I preferred to think of it as an anticipation of the truth.

Still, I didn’t like lying.

I promised myself I was not going to do it again.