When the Cameras Stop Rolling.... Connie Cox

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      It was one of those questions, the kind that had no happy answer. She knew, first hand, how hard it was to keep some teenagers in school. Eva hid her sigh.

      Mark startled her by answering from across the studio. “Playing sports with a congenital medical condition, particularly a heart murmur, is a topic that is under fierce discussion in the medical community. Many of us doctors know the value of sports in our children’s development. Make sure you have a doctor who will do whatever he can to keep your son on the playing field.”

      Nope. Not the right answer. Eva signaled for a close-up. “You’ll notice Dr. O’Donnell said there is much discussion over this topic. I, for one, would not put my child’s life at risk over a school sport.

      “But I completely understand your concern. It is very difficult to walk the line between keeping our children safe and letting them live a fulfilling life and developing the skills they need to become well-rounded adults. It is often a choice we have to make as parents.”

      Right there in front of her, ducked down below the camera lens, her producer was pointing to his watch and making a dramatic cut sign. Eva snuck a glance at the studio clock.

      How had that happened? She had never run this long before.

      “And that’s a question each parent must answer for their children. Remember, moms, you can’t take care of your children if you don’t take care of yourselves first. So if you think you are having a heart attack, go to the emergency room.”

      She went into her sign-off. “Thanks for watching Ask the Doc. If you have questions, we have your answers. See you tomorrow.”

      She thought she’d done rather well at turning back to their topic of the day. Why, then, was her producer grimacing?

      A closer look at the clock explained it—a minute over. The little red lights on the cameras went dark as Eva wondered which commercial they had cut. There would be an angry sponsor to answer to. They would have to offer them an extra slot to make up for it even though the show needed all the sponsors they could get. If they received any more production budget cuts, they’d have to start shooting the show with their camera phones.

      Turning to Mark O’Donnell, Eva braced herself for saying the polite thing, even though he’d caused her show to be more topsy-turvy than a cheerleader doing backflips.

      Trying to ignore the sexy way his shoulders filled out his lab coat, she said, “Thank you for—”

      “You weren’t serious, were you?”

      What did he mean? “I’m sure I was. I always am.”

      Her husband had always encouraged her to lighten up, but it wasn’t in her nature.

      Her husband.

      Finally, she could think about him without that tearing pain to her heart. If she could only find absolution for herself in her soul.

      “What, in particular, were you referring to, Dr. O’Donnell?”

      Maybe she’d had enough of his grandstanding in front of her audience, or maybe she was lashing out at him because of the hurt she still carried for her husband, but either way she lost her temper.

      Gesturing off stage, she said, “Maybe you’re talking about the way you came in an hour late and didn’t have time for a pre-show briefing. Or the way you began to ad lib your presentation instead of following the bullet points. That could have ended up disastrously if either of our imaginations had failed us. Or how about that remark about me not being a real doctor?”

      She took a breath, feeling her heart pound in her ears as well as in her chest.

      “Or maybe you thought I wasn’t serious when you decided to perform an examination on an audience member, while we all sat around and waited for you to listen to her heart beat. I’m sure our television audience enjoyed that stimulating bit of action. Or how about telling that father to go ahead and let his son do whatever he wanted despite the boy’s doctor’s advice. How dare you?”

      Mark quirked his lips at her. “How dare I?”

      “How dare you?” She was so angry she could feel the heat radiate off her body. “How dare you undermine another doctor?”

      “Somehow, I’m sure the boy’s doctor won’t mind.”

      “And you know that how?”

      This time the man had the audacity to give her a full-on smile. “Because I’m him.”

      “What?”

      “I’m the boy’s doctor.” Mark shrugged his massive shoulders. “I asked my friend to show up, you know, for moral support. He said if he saw the show faltering he’d ask a question and he did. Now I owe him a beer.”

      Eva stared, for once in her life without words. Her rage had burnt them all to cinders.

      “It sounds like I owe you a beer, too, Eva. I didn’t realize I was being such a screw-up.”

      “You are the last person I would consider sharing a beer with.”

      “Ouch.” He gave her a laughing wince. “I guess that means, no, thanks.”

      “No, it doesn’t mean, no, thanks. It means not in your lifetime, buddy.”

      “Alrighty, then.” He looked at his watch. “Gotta run. It’s been—I had thought this was fun, but it seems I was mistaken.”

      Was he expecting her to reassure him? She glared, daring him to blink first.

      He didn’t. Again there was that quirky twist of his lips, although this time they were tight instead of laughing. “It’s been an experience.”

      As he turned to leave he stopped and raised an eyebrow, oh, so condescendingly. “You do pretty well for a TV doc.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      “YOU’VE GOT TO be kidding me.” Eva paced round the conference table, earrings swinging as her agent cringed and her producer looked anywhere but in her eyes.

      Stan, the show’s executive producer, glared at her, too used to working with drama queens to be bothered by her display of temper, which made Eva even angrier. “A three-week series on high-school athletics to get the ratings up and get our audience used to field experience, then, if the ratings are high enough, you get your drug-abuse series. You’ve been asking for this and now you’re complaining?”

      “I didn’t ask to work with someone I’m so obviously not compatible with, though.”

      “That’s not what our audience surveys are saying. They loved Dr. O’Donnell and they loved the two of you together.”

      “Together.” Eva stopped pacing to stare into Stan’s eyes, gaining the slightest satisfaction that in her heels she towered over him. “I’ve worked hard for you. I’ve proved myself time and time again. O’Donnell waltzes onto the set, flashes a sexy grin and you beg him to take on a field assignment when I’ve been trying to negotiate one for the last two contracts?”

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