Decades of experience in the security field had left Joe Connelly little surprised by anything. But the tapes recorded outside of Eliza’s office last night did not show what he had expected.
A light-haired woman dressed in dark slacks and a turtleneck had hung a bag on the door at eight P.M. Joe didn’t recognize the woman, but the best thing to do would be to call Eliza down to see if she did.
Eliza stared intently at the grainy image Joe had isolated on the monitor in the security office.
“It looks like Abigail Snow. She does promos for the broadcast.”
“Has she ever come on to you in anyway?”
“Never.”
Joe flipped off the screen.
“I’ll call her in and talk to her.”
A pained expression crossed Eliza’s face. “God, Joe. I don’t want to embarrass her. I don’t know Abigail well at all, but she seems to be a very nice woman. I can’t believe that she is any kind of threat.”
“Well, how do you want to handle it? I wouldn’t ignore it, Eliza. She should know in no uncertain terms that you aren’t interested. You don’t want anybody fantasizing that there’s something developing between you when there isn’t.”
Eliza considered his words and made up her mind decisively.
“I’ll talk to her myself, Joe.”
“You’re sure? I’d be glad to do it for you.”
“No,” she said resolutely. “I should do it myself.”
Eliza left ten minutes earlier than usual to go down to makeup, stopping at the promotions office. Abigail was inside conferring with a co-worker.
“Abigail, may I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure, Eliza. Come on in,” Abigail answered enthusiastically, gesturing to a chair.
The co-worker took the cue and excused himself.
“Did you want to see the FRESHER LOOK promo I did for the story on commuter relationships?” Abigail offered.
“Gee, I can’t right now. I have to get to makeup. I’m sure it’s wonderful, though. Your promos always are.” Eliza crossed her long legs and leaned forward in her chair.
Abigail’s heart raced.
“Well, what is it you wanted to talk about?”
“Actually, Abigail, someone left a gift for me at my office last night and I think it might have been you.”
Abigail’s face flushed.
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
Eliza wanted to flee the room as soon as she saw the hopeful expression on Abigail’s face. An expression that would surely turn to mortification when she heard what Eliza was about to tell her. It was a delicate situation. Eliza didn’t relish the idea of hurting Abigail, but she had to nip this thing in the bud.
“I’m not interested, Abigail. I’m sorry.”
The woman didn’t respond the way Eliza had expected she would.
“How do you know you aren’t interested?” Abigail asked, almost too calmly.
“What?”
“Have you ever thought about it before?”
“That’s really none of your business, Abigail. But the answer is no.”
“You might find that you like it.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You never know until you try.”
“Look,” said Eliza firmly. “I didn’t come down here to get into a discussion about sexuality. I just wanted to let you know that I’d appreciate it if something like this didn’t happen again.”
She rose to leave.
“Eliza, just think about it, please. Many women marry and have children before they realize their true feelings. At the very least, consider what it is about it that makes you so uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable, Abigail. I like to think of myself as an open-minded person, but I know myself, and I know that I’m not sexually attracted to women.”
Eliza sank into the chair, let out a long groan and told Doris about the exchange with Abigail.
“I knew she had the hots for you, baby,” said Doris as she swirled her brush around in a pot of blush.
“You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Like you haven’t had enough to worry about?” Doris stood back and stuck out her leggings-clad hip. She held up her fingers and pulled them back one by one. “Let’s see. You’re getting threatening phone calls. You’re getting threatening letters. Your boyfriend cheated on you. And let’s not forget your house was just robbed.”
Eliza laughed in spite of herself. “Oh, yeah, and I have another happy thing I forgot to mention. Keith Chapel came on to me in Dallas last weekend.”
Doris’s bronze-painted mouth dropped. “You’re kidding! Keith always seemed kind of Caspar Milquetoasty to me. I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him to try to get it on with anyone, much less the anchorwoman. That was pretty gutsy.”
Eliza shrugged as Doris removed the makeup smock. “Gutsy, stupid or desperate. Which one?” Eliza stood up and smoothed out her skirt. “On that happy note, I’m off to deliver the evening news to eight million people who would never suspect the chaos that is my life.”