"But they may not offer your cocky ass the weekend anchor position. And you know the weekend anchor will be the one to replace Bill when he retires in two years."

The rumors had been swirling around the station since the last ratings period but Brian tried not to listen to them. "You think I want to sit in front of a camera and read news for the rest of my career?" he asked.

"Well, you certainly have the face for it," Taneesha said, giving his cheek a playful pat.

Brian shouldn't have been surprised by the talk. He had moved up the ladder pretty quickly at WBTN and though he wanted to believe it was because of his journalistic abilities, he suspected that it had a lot to do with his looks. The demographics said it all. He was the most popular newsperson in the entire city with women aged twenty-one through forty-nine. And his numbers with the male audience weren't too bad either. The women in focus groups liked the way he looked and men liked that he was just a regular guy from Southie. The people of Boston trusted Brian Quinn to tell them the truth.

"I may have the face, but not the stomach for it. Any more than you'd be able to handle standing behind a studio camera. You're like me. You like to be out on the streets."

"But if you don't want the promotion, why do you work so hard?"

Brian shrugged. "Because I like to be the first to know."

"Taneesha! We've got a three-alarm fire in Dorchester. You're up."

Taneesha turned and waved at one of the junior reporters who was racing toward the door. "Let's go, then." She gave Brian a smile. "When you break this story, don't you forget your favorite camera goddess. I'll stick that camera so far up Patterson's nose, we'll be able to read his mind."

"You'll be there," Brian replied. He watched as Taneesha hurried off to the waiting news truck, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out the handheld tape recorder. He popped in a new tape, pausing to think about what Taneesha had said.