“At least we know you're still sane.” Zelda smiled at her. She was a pretty woman, and Adrian guessed that she was about forty.

“Doesn't it ever get to you? Christ, the news is always so depressing.”

“I never listen to it.” She shrugged indifferently. “And most nights when I get out of here, I go dancing.”

“I think you've got the right idea.” Most nights, Adrian went home, and Steven was already sound asleep and snoring gently. But at least they had breakfast together in the morning, and there were always weekends.

Adrian struggled through her paperwork for the next four hours, and then she checked out the studio before the late news, chatted with the anchors, and read all the hottest stories. It was actually a pretty quiet night, and she could hardly wait to get home to Steven. She knew he was having dinner out with friends, but she was pretty sure he'd be home when she finished work. He seldom stayed out very late, unless there was something to be gained from it, like some important business with a client.

The late show went fine, predictably, and at eleven thirty-five she was on her way home on the Santa Monica Freeway. She walked in her front door at five minutes to midnight, and the bedroom lights were still on, and her heart leapt with glee as she took the stairs to their bedroom two at a time, and then she laughed when she saw him. Steven was sound asleep on his side of the bed, arms spread out like a boy, exhausted and relaxed after a hard day at the office followed by a lively game of squash and an early dinner. He was out for the count and no amount of rustling around the room would rouse him.

“Well, Prince Charming,” Adrian whispered with a grin as she sat down next to him in her nightgown, “looks like it's a wrap, as they say in my business.” She kissed him gently on the cheek and he never stirred as she turned off the light and curled up on her own side of the bed. And as she lay there, she thought about being late again, but she knew it was probably nothing.





WHEN ADRIAN WOKE UP AT NINE-FIFTEEN, SHE could smell bacon cooking downstairs, and she could hear Steven clattering around in the kitchen. She smiled to herself as she rolled over in bed. She loved Saturdays, loved having him around, loved it when he brought her breakfast in bed and they made love afterward.