LITMIR.BIZ

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      “We’ll see,” his father responded in the same level tone he’d had from the beginning of their meeting.

      Salim returned to stand in front of his father’s desk. He held out his hand for a copy of the paper that Kennedy was reading.

      “If you’re going to set expectations, then you might as well share them with me,” he snapped.

      “I’ll have Diane print you up another copy.”

      In an attempt to defuse what she saw as a conflict in the making, Kennedy handed her paper to Salim.

      He held it gingerly between his fingers and scanned it quickly. “You gotta be kidding! You’re expecting me to be joined to this woman’s hip. She’s to teach me how to small-talk and stay away from controversial topics. The only thing she’s not to do is diaper me. Forget about it!”

      A sarcastic laugh followed. Salim slapped down the list, made an abrupt turn and headed for the door.

      “A substantial donation to AIDS research is at risk here,” his father shouted after him. “I’ll stop contributing to your trust fund if that’s what it takes. Just think about all those poor people in Haiti that you currently support.”

      “You really are unconscionable,” Salim gritted out, sending his father a fiery look before he disappeared.

      “It’s a big change for your son,” Kennedy said after Salim had left. She’d always played the role of peacemaker on the job. “He just might need a little time to digest everything you’ve said. You’ve hit him with quite a bit and he’s probably having difficulty coping with your health issues. Children often think of parents as invincible.”

      Privately she thought it was an awful thing to do, blackmailing your own child. At the same time she was curious about the Haiti reference. Prickly as Salim was, she had the feeling there was a caring man somewhere deep inside. She had to give him credit for standing up to an intimidating man and being true to himself.

      “My son’s always been a challenging personality,” Tanner said, rising and coming to sit across from her. “He could give two hoots about money. He uses it only to benefit someone else. Shall we get the other items on our agenda nailed down? Diane will arrange for you to tour the studio afterward.”

      For the next half hour the studio head talked about his expectations, and what he hoped Kennedy would accomplish with his son.

      “I’m tossing in a bonus,” Tanner added as they wound down their business. “You whip Salim into shape and you can have your own television program. Take your life coaching to the masses.”

      Kennedy’s excitement began to build. What he was proposing was better than immediate cash in her pocket. She could be a household name like her idol, Oprah.

      “That’s an interesting proposal but I’m not sure anyone would be interested in me,” she said.

      “Don’t sell yourself short. With a bit of marketing and the right exposure you could be one of TSW’s rising stars.”

      Kennedy tamped down on her excitement. She’d accepted the position because of money and the company car that came with it; a television show was a very nice offer but she couldn’t afford to get carried away.

      Even so, her heart was palpitating so fast she thought she might have an attack. A television show meant exposure and more clients than she needed. All that translated into cold, hard cash. Plus, she really enjoyed what she did so this could take her career to a whole new level.

      “Here’s what I’m thinking,” Tanner Washington said. “We make it a reality show where select members of the audience share issues they are having. They’re paired off and sent to a place similar to the Dr. Phil house, just like you see on his show. Three months later we bring them back. Now the studio audience gets to vote as to who’s made the most progress. The program would be cutting edge. Ratings are bound to soar. And I can see you’d be very telegenic.”

      “It would certainly be different from the usual lineup,” Kennedy said diplomatically. “Can you give me some time to mull this over?” she asked, not wanting to appear too anxious. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for show business.”

      In the back of her mind she thought this was a nobrainer, but it was smart not to sound too eager.

      Tanner rebutted with “What’s there to think about? Most people would be champing at the bit given this opportunity.”

      “I’m not most people.”

      Tanner chuckled as if he thought her answer was the funniest thing he’d heard. “That’s exactly why I hired you. You’ve got credentials most people only dream of. What’s impressed me is that a young black woman had the foresight to learn Japanese and French along with her native English.”

      “Thank you. My grandmother is Japanese and I learned to speak the language at an early age. French I studied in school and spent a year abroad perfecting.” Kennedy glanced at her watch. “If we’re done I’m going to have to run. I have a dinner appointment.”

      “No time for a tour, then?” Tanner asked, walking her to the door and handing her over to Diane.

      “I can do a quick one.”

      “Diane will get you all set up.”

      “Happy to,” Tanner’s assistant said, taking over.

      Kennedy scanned the general area realizing for the first time that Salim was sprawled in one of the chairs. He was waiting, she presumed, to speak to his father. She would not be a witness to that confrontation.

      “Did I hear something about Ms. Fitzgerald needing a tour?” he asked, deigning to get up.

      “Yes, your dad asked me to find someone to show her around.”

      “You just did. I’ll take over from here, Diane,” Salim said, smiling at his father’s assistant.

      Kennedy’s gut told her she was in for a treat. It was the first time she’d seen what looked like a genuine smile light up Salim’s rugged features, and again she was struck by what a difference that made. He was the kind of man who looked as if he stepped off a Field and Stream cover.

      She glanced pointedly at the clock on the far wall. “I’m sorry but we’ll need to make this quick. I have to be some place in about forty-five minutes.”

      “Ten minutes will take care of things. I’ll give you a quick walk-through and point out the highlights.”

      It surprised Kennedy that he was even offering. She really couldn’t quite believe it. He’d made his dislike of her so apparent. There had to be something in it for him.

      Salim held on to Kennedy’s upper arm, guiding her down another long carpeted hallway. She felt an inner tremor and dismissed it as a delayed reaction to her interview. As they walked, he pointed out the celebrities whose pictures adorned the walls.

      “Hey, Salim,” an attractive man who looked vaguely familiar said as he swung by them.

      “David McFarland,” Salim supplied. “And in case you haven’t kept up, he’s a popular soap actor.”

      Kennedy wasn’t a big fan of soaps, but she did recall seeing the man on a couple of talk shows and she remembered hearing something about David being the current flavor of the month.

      They toured a construction area where sets were being built and Salim pointed out the warehouses where props were stored. Kennedy got to see the set where a popular talk show was filmed. On another set, a special effects machine created a winter storm. When they came to white double doors, Salim slowed down.

      “This is our commissary. We can get something to drink if you’d like,” he said.

      And even though Kennedy had promised her other brother, Roosevelt, that she’d meet him at his place in Edmonds for dinner, she was curious about this man with his

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