Breaking News by Fern Michaels

earlier remark.
    â€œIt’s not time for Halloween, just in case you didn’t know,” Chris said, then added, “Though after tonight, I might just have a change of heart.”
    Chris continued to guide her through the crowds of stars, producers, and well-known directors. When they reached the end of the red carpet, where the line to enter had slowed to a virtual crawl, someone in the crowd shouted, “You better watch out, Abby Simpson!”
    At the sound of her name, Abby whirled around, searching for a face to put to the voice. She felt as though she’d heard the voice before, like maybe whoever it was had tried to disguise it.
    â€œAbby, stay calm. It’s probably just some jerk out there wanting to yank your chain.” Chris placed a protective arm around her waist.
    Abby scanned the crowds. “I’ve heard that voice before, Chris. I know I have.”
    The line moved forward a few more feet.
    â€œIt’s probably some nutcase who reads The Informer and wants his five minutes of fame. And he’ll get it if you don’t keep quiet.”
    The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the voice from the crowd yelled, “You’re a bitch, Abby Simpson.”
    Anger made her flush. She peered into the throngs of people behind the barricades, hoping to see a face, someone she might recognize. Abby knew she’d made enemies. In her line of work, it was a given. Whoever it was, for him to go as far as following her and making a public spectacle of himself, this had to be more than an angry reader or a former coworker.
    â€œLet’s get inside and enjoy the evening. We’ve both been looking forward to tonight. Don’t let this asshole ruin it for us,” Chris said. He kept his hand on her waist the entire time, leading her closer to the theater’s entrance. Abby could get used to this.
    She took a deep breath and scanned the crowd one more time. No one caught her eye. As she was about to brush the entire incident aside, she saw a man dressed in an out-of-style tuxedo, shoving and pushing his way through the crowd. Several people in the crowd were shouting profanities at him as he bumped through the herd of looky-loos.
    Her heart slammed into her chest. “Wait!” she called out. She tried to jerk away from Chris, but he wrapped both arms around her, preventing her from moving away from him.
    â€œShhh, you don’t want to make a scene. Let the wannabes do that,” he whispered in her ear.
    Abby turned around, her eyes level with his chest. Knowing that Chris was right, she looked up into his eyes as though they were the only two in existence. “Do you know who that was running through the crowd?” she asked, a smile on her face all the while blood rushed to her head. Her hands were shaking so badly that if she let go of Chris, she was sure that they would rival the blades of an electric fan.
    Gazing down into her baby blues, he teased, “No, I didn’t get a good look. An old boyfriend maybe?”
    She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any old boyfriends in LA. And for your information, that idiot running through the crowd was none other than Rodwell Archibald Godfrey, Rag! Does that refresh your memory?”
    Suddenly, Chris’s face went grim. He dropped his arms to his sides, pulling her inside the theater. “You’re sure?”
    No longer the least bit excited about seeing what was being touted as the next Oscar winner, Abby was suddenly anxious to escape. She had to get out of there.
    â€œChris, let’s just go. I know you went to a lot of trouble tonight, hiring a limo and wearing that sexy tux, but I won’t enjoy myself for one second knowing that bastard might be on the loose. Who knows? He might end up trying to trash the offices at The Informer. Remember, his pal tried to burn the place down right before Rag disappeared?” Abby felt bad, but she didn’t have a lot of time to