It's News to Her by Helen R. Myers Page A

to attend or some major news story or the elections. “It’s not necessary, really. Besides, since Texas is a concealed-handgun state, I’m licensed. My weapon is locked in here,” she said, tilting her head at the silver Escalade parked in her reserved spot. “Mr. Henry suggested it about a year after I started full-time with the station. There had been a murder of an anchorwoman in another state and it troubled him. I go to the firing range every quarter to keep up my skills.”
    â€œIt’s a relief to know you have some protection,” he said, “but I still insist. We’ll be right behind you.”
    Although she shook her head, Hunter’s lips curved at the chivalry. “Poor Lane and Phil. Less sleep for them than anyone tonight.”
    â€œThey’re well compensated, and right about now, they’re betting each other a crisp Jackson whether I’ll get to ride with you to your place or you keep me locked out of your vehicle.”
    â€œWhoever has figured out that I’m grateful but no pushover or fool wins.” Hunter used her remote to unlock the door. “But thank you again for all you did.”
    â€œHunter.” Cord waited for her to pause and meet his gaze. “I enjoyed tonight. It’s the first time I felt likemyself and not a commodity in—well, I don’t know in how long.”
    She supposed he ran into that often being who he was, but even with the planes and limousine, Hunter realized she’d only been thinking of him as her boss—except when she was thinking of him as an extremely charismatic man. Feeling more than a little dazed, she whispered, “Good night,” and sought the escape of the Escalade’s interior.
    It was a relief to turn onto her road and then her driveway. The Cadillac had stayed devotedly behind her, but not so close she was blinded by its lights. Phil may have lost or won twenty dollars; however, nothing showed in the way he tailed her. She pulled the car into the garage. It was a greater relief to hit the remote again and have the garage door descend behind her. She was not in Cord Yarrow Rivers’s league, and she needed the respite.
    Her BlackBerry sounded and she saw an incoming text. As she unlocked the door to her townhouse, she brought up the message.
    Since there are too many ears in this car, I’ll just wish you a good-night back.
    Unable to resist, she texted back, Who won?
    After a slight hesitation came the brief message, Sweet dreams.
    Throwing back her head, Hunter laughed out loud. No, she wasn’t in his league, but she’d held her own. At least for tonight.

Chapter Three
    I t would be an exaggeration to say that she arrived at the station refreshed. She definitely wasn’t ready to deal with the on-air announcement about Mr. Henry, but Hunter made it in at the same time the morning staff did, warning everyone that extra eye drops and makeup would be required before she was willing to remove her sunglasses. Last night, after changing into her most comfortable nightie and robe, she had read the text reminder from executive producer Tom Vold regarding his concern about how fast gossip traveled and that, if possible, they wanted their announcement of transfer of power to Cord to be done before most of the public left for work. Knowing their writer and video people would need anything and everything ASAP, Hunter never went to bed.
    Considering the cacophony going on at the station’s main telephone bank some kind of leak had occurred. Staff filed in, exhibiting everything from confusion to doubt. Fortunately, the powers that be decided extra security was justified, and Joey had a bleary-eyed Earl joining him. Earl gave a new definition to bloodshot eyes and kept his gaze locked on the doors as though he expected a UFO to navigate itself into the building at any second. Otherwise, things seemed to be business as usual.
    Hunter came dressed in black sweats and