His secretary stopped by his open office door and shook her head when she saw him. “You get jelly doughnut on your tie again? How many does that make this month? Everybody knows you do it on purpose so you don’t have to wear a tie, so why don’t you just leave it at home?”

“Wouldn’t look good. I’m a professional person.”

“You’re a professional weirdo,” his secretary said. “Good thing for you you’re so good at what you do.”

“Mmmm, and I’m cute, too,” Steve said.

“Cute? Let me tell you… puppies are cute, panties that say Tuesday are cute, and drinks that come with little paper umbrellas are cute. You are not cute. You are wickedly handsome.”

He grinned and washed the doughnut down with half a cup of coffee. “Give yourself a raise, Charlene. And get me this week’s advertising schedule when you get a chance.”

“Work, work, work,” she said, then turned to march off to the copier. “I thought this was gonna be a glamour job. Get dressed up, meet some celebrities…”

Steve slouched in his chair and looked through the large glass window that separated him from his staff. He watched the anchor move through his cue cards, manipulating his tape carts and controls in a glassed-in booth at the far side of the room. The editor and the assistant editor sat at their console outside the broadcast booth. Reporters worked at consoles lined against the inside wall. Everything was cranking along perfectly. Steve smiled in satisfaction, flipping the switch to pipe the broadcast into his office.

Frank Menken, the midday traffic reporter, had just been cued in. From nine to four, when the traffic job wasn’t usually as critical, Menken took over the traffic car without the aid of a helicopter team. He drove a circular route around the city, relying on three scanners with a hundred bands apiece, a CB, a two-way radio, a car phone, and an AM radio equipped with an earplug. It was a grueling job that required being able to listen, talk, drive, and drink coffee, all at the same time.