Charade by Sandra Brown

the back door. "Jeff's a workaholic. He's super efficient But he can be high-strung." "Is he gay?" "Does it matter?" "Not at all," he replied, unruffled by her sharp tone. "Just curious. That's the gossip. Either way, I think his personality is much more suited to Cat's Kids than to the hard news format. Do you get along with Melia?" "She has her mood swings," Cat said, hedging. "Don't we all?" "Of course. It's just that sometimes her moods and mine are on a collision course." She wanted to avoid suggesting that all the blame belonged to Melia. Perhaps it didn't. Their dislike had been mutual, although Cat had done her best to give Melia the benefit of the doubt. She'd cut her more slack than she thought was deserved. Webster didn't pick up her hint of disharmony. "As you said, Cat,
    when more than one person is involved, there are bound to be some differences of opinion." Bill had bent over backward to make her transition to WWSA easy and enjoyable. She didn't want to appear to be a whiner. So, for the time being, she shelved her grievances. "I'm sure that in time we'll smooth out all the wrinkles." "I'm sure you will, too. Anything else on your mind?" She consulted her watch and found that she still had a few minutes. "I'd like you to start thinking about the possibility of a fundraiser. " "Fundraiser?" "For the kids, those still in foster homes and the ones already adopted. Foster parents get two hundred dollars a month per child from the state. Medicaid pays for their health care. But that doesn't cover everything. "Wouldn't it be good PR for the station, as well as enormously beneficial for the kids, if WWSA sponsored a concert, or a celebrity golf tournament, something like that, to raise money for the extras? Extras like orthodontia and eyeglasses and summer camp." "Great idea. Do whatever you like." "Thanks. But I need help. I'm still the new kid on the block and don't know very many people. Do you think Nancy would consider helping?" "Consider it?" He laughed. "It'd be right down her alley. She loves nothing better than rolling up her shirtsleeves and plowing into a project. Fund-raisers are her forte." "Great. I'll call her." Cat stood. "If that's all, I've gotta run." He came around his desk to walk her to the door. "You're doing a terrific job, Cat. We're so fortunate to have you. You've given the station credibility and an aura of class. But have we been equally good for you? Do you have any regrets over leaving California? Are you happy?" "Regrets? None, Bill. I love the kids. I'm doing something worthwhile, and it feels good." He waited, but when she said nothing more, he probed. "That answers only half of my question." "Am I happy? Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" "What about Dr. Spicer?"
    Cat was chummy with her new co-workers but hadn't had time to cultivate any close friendships. Furthermore, it was her policy to keep professional matters separate from her personal affairs. Her long, demanding workdays didn't leave much time for meeting people outside the industry. Consequently, Dean was still her best friend, and that's the way she answered Bill's question. "We talk every few days." He looked worried. "Any chance of his talking you into returning to California?" "None. I've got too much work to do here." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Beginning with my eleven o'clock appointment."
    Chapter fifteen
    The doorbell echoed through the ranch house. Through the screened front door, Cat saw a wide hallway extending to the rear of the house. Several rooms opened off this central foyer, but, from her viewpoint, she couldn't tell what they were. Somewhere nearby a dog barked, a large dog, she guessed by the gruffness of his bark. Thankfully, it sounded more curious than ferocious. She rang the bell again and glanced over her shoulder in the direction from which she'd come. The house was situated behind a low hill, out of sight of the state highway. A white rail fence formed a neat boundary around the property and