Love at 11 - By Mari Mancusi Page 0,3

coming down, Madeline,” Richard said. He never could come to terms with the fact that everyone called me Maddy since birth. “I’d like you to meet Jamie Hayes. He’s our new photographer and today’s his first day.”

I turned slowly to face Adonis/Jamie and attempted a friendly—but not too friendly—smile. He flashed his white teeth again and held out his hand.

“Hi, Madeline, nice to meet you.”

“M-Maddy,” I corrected before I could stop myself. I bit my lower lip. One did not correct men who looked that good. That was, like, Adonis 101.

“I’m sorry?”

I swallowed. Hard. Twenty-something years mastering the English language and I could barely spit out a sentence. “You can call me Maddy.”

He grinned again. “Maddy. I had a dog named Maddy once.”

I reminded him of a dog. Ugh. Did I look that bad? I tried to surreptitiously check my reflection in the glassed trophy cabinet behind him. My ridiculously expensive Hillcrest hairdresser had assured me my flippy do was artfully messy, but all I saw in my reflection was a blond Cousin It. And why hadn’t I worn something cute? Hip? What had possessed my bleary-eyed six a.m. self to choose the ugly green sweater that was currently draped over my body? And my three-year-old faded Express pants screamed last day before laundry.

After giving up on the reflection—I was never winning Fairest of Them All at this point—I realized Jamie was still holding out his hand. Doh. I was really making a great impression on the guy. I shook his hand and focused all my energy on ignoring the romance novel–like sparks that shot down to my toes when our palms came into contact with one another. I accidentally looked up and my eyes slammed into his sparkly kryptonite green ones. Like Superman, I was instantly rendered powerless. “Madeline.” Richard’s voice brought me back to reality. Happy for the interruption, I dropped Jamie’s hand like a hot potato. “How long have you been with us now?”

I stared at him, horrified to realize my mind was completely blank. Come on, this wasn’t the capital of Uzbekistan. How long had I worked here? Jamie’s proximity was doing bad things to my brain.

“Thr—er, four years, sir.” Wait, was it four? Or five? Let’s see, I started in June of …

“Right.” Richard noted something on a legal pad. “How would you like a change?”

“What kind of change?” I cocked my head in interest. I mean, he’d have to be more specific before I could answer that one. Like, if it were a flipping-burgers-at-McDonald’s kind of change, I’d pass. Big raise with exciting new responsibilities? I’m your gal.

“I’m starting a new franchise. An investigative kind of thing. It’ll be a vehicle for Terrance—that’s our main anchor,” he told Jamie, “to get his face out there more, though it’ll be completely producer driven. He’ll just read your scripts. What do you think?”

What did I think? I thought that sounded great! Who wouldn’t? It was a dream come true. My own segment—and an investigative one at that. A chance to help right the wrongs viewers faced each day. Sure, it would involve working with Terrance, but I could do it. How hard could it be? After all, he wouldn’t be that involved. He’d simply be reading what I wrote. Besides, I’d make any sacrifice to have my own segment.

“I’m honored you thought of me,” I replied in my most respectful voice. “I’d love to produce the new segment.” Maybe Newsline would notice me now. My idol Diane Dickson would call me personally. Ask me why I hadn’t yet applied. They’d send me a first-class plane ticket to New York. Wine me. Dine me. Beg me to work for them. And then I’d …

“Since you’ll be doing a lot of shooting, I figured it’d be good to assign you your own photographer,” Richard was saying. I immediately woke up from Newsline dreamland to even more delicious reality. He was assigning me my own photog? No more fighting with the other producers for five minutes of camera time, squeezed in between their supposedly more important shoots? This got better and better.

“Great,” I managed to spit out. “Thanks.”

“I’d like you and Jamie to start immediately. Why don’t you give him a tour of the station now?”

And immediate face time with Adonis? This day got better and better. Whatever I did in a past life to deserve this luck, I’m glad I got around to it.

“Sure,” I said, now teeming with self-confidence. I gestured to Jamie. “Shall we?”

He grinned, rising