Not far from the Lincoln Tunnel in Moonachie, New Jersey, every seat at the bar was taken at the noisy Like It Rare steakhouse. As the clock on the wall neared six-thirty, the regulars groaned when the bartender switched the television mounted on the wall at the corner of the bar to the KEY Evening Headlines with Eliza Blake.
“Aw, come on, Meat. Give us a break. Leave on the wrestling.”
“For Christ’s sake, Meat, we come here to get away from the real world for a while. Why do you always have to watch the damned news?”
“Forget it, you guys. You should know better by now. Meat’s got a hard-on for Eliza Blake. There’s nothing you can say or do that is going to make him change that freakin’ channel.”
Cornelius Bacon appeared to ignore the comments from his customers, but in fact he didn’t even hear them. He was mesmerized and then angered as he watched Eliza Blake open the newscast, as she did each evening, not sitting at her desk as the male anchormen did at the other networks, but by walking across the studio set. Though the network could deny it up and down, KEY News was obviously capitalizing on Eliza’s sex appeal.
The tall, willowy brunette stepped with assurance as she welcomed her viewers and recounted the top stories of the evening. Then, as the KEY Evening Headlines fanfare music blared, the camera followed Eliza as she took her seat at the anchor desk.
Meat didn’t like that suit she was wearing. The skirt was much too short.
Hadn’t he warned her about that? He had told her what he would do the next time she dared to show so much of those shapely legs.
Why hadn’t she listened?