Tonya Muir - Exposure Season 1

"And then?"

The fireworks display operator gets serious. "Nobody threatens Eddie DeMarco and gets away with it." He gestures with his chin, which is not insubstantial, "The punk’s over there."

We are led over to an area near some large crates by one of the SWAT officers. They’re still wearing their chem suits which will provide dramatic footage, even though I don’t think they’re necessary anymore. Boys and their toys, I suppose.

"Ms. Kingsley, can you identify this man?" Kyle gestures to the figure at my feet.

As I pan the camera down, I find the good professor bound and gagged with duct taped. Oh, it’s gonna hurt like hell when they rip the duct tape away from that mustache.

"Yes, I can." I nod, making a positive ID.

* * *

We’re alone in an editing bay as we wrap our exclusive.

"Tired?" Harper rubs my shoulders while I put the final voiceover track to bed on our story. It’s a damn good story, one of the best we’ve ever done.

"A little."

"Want to go back to the hotel or do you want to go out into the madness? Our segment leads at eleven. We can still see the New Year in."

"Well, I think with the proper persuasion, I could go out for a bit." Actually, I’d kinda like to see the non-end of the world. And know that we were in some small way responsible.

"How does a semi-private seat for the best show of the end of the year sound?"

"Sounds pretty good."

"After that, can I get a private seat for the best show of the New Year?" she whispers, her voice low and piercing through me.

"That can also be arranged."

She leans down and gives my neck a little kiss. "You still planning on just wearing the necklace, perfume and a smile?"

"Un-huh." I smile and nod. I hear her breathing catch, feel her fingers tighten on my shoulders.

"Oh boy."

* * *

There are perks to helping the feds capture an insane cowboy bent on killing the New Year’s Eve partygoers. We are now nestled at the top of the Marriott Marquis, on the roof, overlooking Times Square. Also up here are a couple cops, a few feds and part of the staging crew for the festival.

They have confetti cannons rigged and are preparing to pelt the crowd below with almost three tons of the stuff in just a few minutes at the stroke of midnight. There are also a bunch of people getting ready to release globe shaped balloons.

All because of a fluke of a calendar. Amazing, really.

In the midst of all this madness, Kels and I have found a patch of vacant rooftop. We have a perfect view and while I should be freezing my ass off, I am quite cozy and content. I procured a big, wool blanket from one of the agents, and have wrapped it around us as we stare down at the mob below. Kels is nestled against me, her smaller frame resting tightly against mine. We’re a nice fit.

"So, how does it feel to have saved all of their lives?" I bellow into her ear in an effort to be heard. What will the noise level be like when the ball drops? Will I have any hearing left?

She runs her hands over my forearms, squeezing them through my thick jacket. "Not nearly as good as this does."

"Liar," I reply, "but nice."

"We did good, Tabloid. I can already taste the Emmy or Peabody nomination. And, God, I love scooping all of them." She gestures to the media scattered all around us – on the rooftops, on the ground, on the stage.

"It does feel good to be the best, doesn’t it? I can’t wait to tell Robie the whole story when we get there tomorrow night."

"Do you have presents for your family yet, Harper?"

I give her a mock outraged look. "My God, woman! What do you think of me? Of course, I do. I did most of my shopping on-line. They’ve had the presents since after Thanksgiving."

"Oh," she replies, looking disappointed. What’s that about?

"What’s wrong, Little Roo?"

She shrugs. "I haven’t gotten them anything yet."

Mama only wants you, but this is an easily solved problem. "New York is the shopping capital of the world, chér. I am sure we can pick them up something before we leave tomorrow."

"Good. Thanks. I didn’t want to show up empty-handed."

"Never. Besides, you have your hands full with me," I tease.

Her unhappiness dissipated, Kelsey laughs and squeezes my hands. "Ain’t that the truth."

"Ten!" the crowd below us bellows.

I look up and see the ball sliding inexorably downward. It’s quite the sight to behold. It’s made of Waterford Crystal and has over six hundred light bulbs, ninety-six strobe lights and ninety rotating mirrors in it. Nearly blinding in its intensity, it dazzles the eye.

"Nine!"

"Amazing, huh?" I shout.

"Eight!"

"What?" she replies.

"Seven!"

"Beautiful!" I try again.

"Six!"

"Sure."

She obviously didn’t hear me.

"Five!"

"I said, it’s beautiful!"

"Four!"

"It is, yes."

"Three!"

"Gorgeous," she confirms. She heard me this time.

"Two!"

Ah, what the hell? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "I love you!"

"One!"

"What?"

This just isn’t our day. "Happy New Year, Kels!"

This she hears. Go figure. "Happy New Year, Harper!"

And I kiss her.

What a nice way to start the millennium.

<fade out>

Scenes from Next Week’s Must Read TV:

<fade in>

Robie squints and thrusts his hands in his jeans. "I guess I’m failing to see the problem. New York City is a lot better place to live than LaLa Land."

"Nothing says we’re doing this together. We both received independent offers. I may take it, but she might not. We might both take it, and never see each other in NYC."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He grabs my arm and drags me to a stop.

"Just that."

<cut to>

"No. I’m just not sure what you mean by details." Actually, I’m afraid I know all too well what they mean. The heat from my face certainly confirms my fear.

"Details," Elaine says, lifting her brows at me, as if merely repeating the word clarifies things. "You know."

Ah, what the hell? This doesn’t appear to freak them out, I guess I shouldn’t let it freak me out. "Oh, you mean like what does she wear to bed?"

"That’s a start." Katherine laughs, pouring a cup of coffee. "We’ll get to juicier details soon enough."

<fade out>

 "Excuse me, little sister?"

"Yes?" I turn around to find Robie behind me with Clark in his arms. He doesn’t even hesitate, he just hands me the baby. I’ve trained him well. I cradle my nephew close, inhaling his clean baby scent, and continue to watch Kels with Rene and Christian. Little Christian is tearing into the presents Kels brought for him. She’s spoiling my entire family.

"Good Lord, Harper, what in the hell is that?" He taps my wrist, where Kels’ Christmas present to me is proudly displayed.

"That, big brother, should be obvious. Christian, c’mere!" I call my older nephew over, kneeling down to show him my wrist. "Tell your Daddy what that is."

He looks at it, then up to his father. "A watch." With that he turns and runs back to Kels and Rene. He knows where the good stuff is. I stand back up, careful with little Clark as I do.

"See, even your son knows what it is," I tease. "Maybe Kels should have brought picture books for you too."

"Har, har, but what kind of a watch?"

"A wrist watch. If it were a pocket watch, it’d be in my pocket."

"Oh, very funny." He nudges me. "So you’ve moved into the expensive jewelry phase?"

I let my head drop, brush my lips against Clark’s downy head. "Want to take a walk, Robie?"

"Yeah, let me get Clark a jacket. It’s a bit too chilly for him."

We bundle up the littlest member of the Kingsley family and put him in a snuggle pack. I insist on carrying him. Robie gets to enjoy him all year round. Besides, holding him makes me feel better, for whatever reason.

We slip out onto the Avenue and begin walking. The air is crisp, but the sky is clear, making it a beautiful day to be outdoors.

"So, what’s going on, Harper?" Robie finally asks after several blocks of silence. I’m surprised he lasted that long.

"How did you know Rene was the one?"

He chuckles. "Nothing like getting to the point, eh?" He reaches out and touches Clark’s hair, as if wanting some physical connection with a part of Rene. "I don’t know, Harper. I just kinda knew. And, well, of course, Mama told me."

We both laugh. "Mama is a piece of work. Between her and the kitchen conspiracy, I may not have a choice in the matter." I poke him in the shoulder. "And, you played your part over Thanksgiving, too."

He mock stumbles a few steps. "Well, you didn’t seem to be getting a clue on your own. And, being your favorite brother, I felt I had an obligation to lend a hand, so to speak."

"Thanks, Robie. I’m glad you did."

"In answer to your question, though, there was one thing I did that helped." At my encouragement, he continues. "I tried to imagine my life without Rene. And, when I began physically hurting from that thought, I decided I needed to do something to keep her from leaving."

"Sure it wasn’t just gas?" He whacks me on the back of the head. "Hey! Careful! I’m carrying your kid, for God’s sake."