CHAPTER 2

7 PM Sunday
SONYA Iverson raced up the rain soaked red carpet as fast as her high heels would allow. She was late and that was something she didn't allow herself. That was not her idea of what a TV producer should be. Not a producer for the Donna Fuller Show. Never late.
In fact, Sonya never saw an excuse for anyone to be late. Not polite, she believed.
She ran under the canopy that covered the path up the steps of Manhattan's Public Library on Fifth Avenue, but that did almost nothing to keep off the rain. It shook with every gust of wind.
Who could have foreseen the pelting rain that had whipped through New York all afternoon. Rain that turned the traffic into almost impassable turmoil even though it was 7:00 on a Sunday evening.
It was a terrible night for a party.
The wind burned as it touched her face. It was barely two weeks since she had her facelift.
All around the canopy, bright lights had been put up to give the rainy evening an opening-
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night feeling. For Sonya, those bright lights were the enemy.
Though she had let Sabrina, the studio make-up artist, come to her apartment to do her face, Sonya was sure that not even Sabrina's skill could hide the puffiness and discoloration.
But Sabrina was a friend, and had insisted that Sonya look her best for the gala night. So Sonya had agreed.
At he top of the steps, Perry Dalton, her cameraman, was waiting for her. His right arm was draped over the camera. He glanced at her then waved his long lanky arm to make sure he saw her.
Perry was not handsome, his ears were too big and his curly brown was thinning. But under his droopy mustache there was almost always a winning smile.
Perry was a friend, too. And a producer in the television business needed good friends to watch out for you. Especially good cameramen. And he was one of the best at the network. A bad relationship with a cameraman could break you. There could be bad tape when you got back to edit it. Or perhaps one of those
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