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blonde, with astounding breast implants and a tiny waist, and she had a lovely face. And Blaise thought she seemedenthusiastic and smart. Susie Quentin had gone to Brown and had a master’s in journalism from Columbia.
    As they left the meeting, the new girl in town walked over with an awestruck look as she spoke to Blaise.
    “I’ve always wanted to meet you,” she said in a breathy tone that Blaise couldn’t envision on the news. Her voice was unfortunate and made her sound less bright than she was. But her looks more than compensated for it. And her eyes observed everything, and Blaise had the distinct impression that Susie Quentin was gunning for her. Blaise could smell it, and she had been there for too long not to know how it worked. It was how she had come in, twenty-five years earlier. She had arrived from San Francisco to replace someone else, whom the world had forgotten long since, and Blaise had too. She couldn’t even remember her name, and she’d only been there for a few years before Blaise. But with Blaise they had gotten a lot more than they’d ever expected. She had become a major star at the network, there wasn’t a house in the entire country where they didn’t know her name, and everyone working at a network, an affiliate, in any city wanted to be her. And Susie Quentin had come from Miami to do just that. She wanted to be the new Blaise McCarthy, and as their eyes met, Blaise knew she was in trouble again. It had happened before, they had brought in others over the years, to warm them up, and get them ready to take her place. It had always backfired, but she knew that one day someone would come along, smarter or better, more exciting, and prettier to look at, and young above all, and she’d be gone. She just wasn’t ready for it to happen yet. Blaise was at the top of her game. Her specialswere getting better and better, her editorials more astute, and her ratings were solid. And now they had brought this girl in, and just looking at her, Blaise could feel management breathing down her neck.
    “You were my idol and role model all through school,” Susie said to Blaise, as Blaise felt her blood run cold. Susie Q, as people were calling her behind her back, made Blaise feel about ninety years old.
    “That’s nice to hear. Welcome to New York,” Blaise said, trying not to look upset. She was a big network star after all and tried to tell herself that she had nothing to fear. But Blaise knew better. There was always something to fear at the network.
    “I just got here last week,” Susie explained. “Everyone’s been terrific. They’re letting me use a corporate apartment, till I find a place.” More bad news. They never let anyone use those apartments unless they expected them to go far, or were planning to see that they did. They were obviously investing in Susie Quentin and expected to get their money’s worth. When she went back to her office, Blaise’s heart was in her feet, and her stomach between her ears. Mark said nothing to her about it, until the next day. He knew he had to tell her, before she heard it from someone else.
    “They’re giving Susie Q a special on the homeless to do,” he said in an undertone. It was an important story and a major piece, and the kind of thing they would have normally asked Blaise to do.
    “Thanks for the tip,” Blaise said without further comment, and went back to work at her desk. She knew what this meant for her. She would have to work even harder and better and longer hours,be more innovative and creative, and keep her ratings up in the stratosphere somewhere. They were already great, but there was no room now for any slips. The pressure was on.
    Blaise was panicked, even if she didn’t show it, and she started going to the gym in the afternoon after work, to stay calm. She called her trainer and a masseuse and made a date with both for the weekend. And she worked late every night developing new ideas. She wondered briefly if they had