An Independent Wife

The phone on her desk rang but SaRie didn't look up from her typewriter or otherwise indicate that she'd even noticed the noise. With a sigh Brorn got to his feet and leaned across his desk to reach the phone and put the receiver to his ear. Sallie typed on, her brow puckered with concentration.

"Sal! It's for you," said Brom dryly, and Sallie looked up with a start to see Brorn lying stretched across his desk holding her telephone out to her.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Brom, I didn't hear it ring," she apologized, grinning at him as she took the receiver from his hand. He often ribbed her about being in another world, and it was nothing less than the truth; he often answered her calls as well as his own because usually she was concentrating so hard she didn't bear the phone ring.

He grinned back at her as he regained his seat and said, "It's Greg."

"Sallie," said Sallie into the mouthpiece by way of greeting.

And Greg Downey, the news editor, drawled, "Come see me, kid."

"I'm on my way," she said enthusiastically and hung up the phone.

As she switched off her electric typewriter and reached for the cover, Brom questioned, "Off again, birdie?"

"I hope so," replied Sallie, flipping her long braid back over her shoulder. She loved foreign assignments; they were like bread and butter to her. She thrived on them. Other reporters got jet lag-Sallie got her second wind. Her energy and good humor seemed inexhaustible, and as she rushed off to Greg's office she could already feel the adrenalin flowing through her system, making her heart pump faster and her whole body tingle with anticipation.

Greg looked up as she knocked on his open door and a smile softened his hard face when he saw her.

"Did you run?" he asked dryly as he got up and crossed to her, closing the door behind her. "I just hung up the phone."

"Normal speed," said Sallie, laughing at herself with him. Her dark blue eyes sparkled with laughter and dimples peeped out of her cheeks. Greg looked down at her glowing little face and passed a hard arm about her to hug her briefly to him before releasing her.

"Do you have anything for me?" she asked eagerly.

"Nothing for fight now," he replied, returning to his chair, and he laughed at the way her face fell.

"Cheer up, I've got good news for you anyway.

Have you ever heard of the Olivetti Foundation?" "No," said Sallie bluntly, then frowned. "Or have I?

Who Olivetti?"

"It's a European charity organization," Greg began, and Sallie pounced in triumph.

"Oh-ho! I place it now. The world's blue bloods sponsor an enormous charity ball every summer, right?"

"Right," concurred Greg.

"Am I interested?" asked Sallie. "America doesn't have any blue blood, you know, only hot red blood."

"You're interested," Greg drawled. "The shindig is being held this year in Sakarya."

Sallie's face lit up. "Greg! Marina Delchamp?" "Yeah," he grinned. "How about that, eh? I'm practically giving you a vacation. Interview the dashing wife of the finance minister, attend the ritziest Party you've ever imagined, and all on the payroll. What more could you want?"

"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "When is it?"

"End of next month," he grunted, lighting a slim cigar. "That leaves plenty of time for you to buy any new gear if you don't have anything suitable for attending a charity ball."

"Smarty," she teased, wrinkling her pert little nose at him. "I'll bet you think I don't have anything in my closet except pants. For your infon-nation, I own quite a few dresses."

"Then why don't you ever wear them around here?" he demanded,

"Because, boss dear, you have a habit of sending me out to the wilds without a minute's notice, so I've learned to be prepared."

"And you're so afraid that you'll miss an assignment that you keep a packed bag under your desk," he returned, not at all fooled by her retort. "But I really do want you to dress up, Sallie. Sakarya could be an important ally, especially since the oil fields on the northern border are producing so heavily now. It helps that Marina Delchamp is an American and her husband is so influential with the King, but it never hurts to look your best."

"Umm, yes, the State Department will be relieved to know that I'm on their side," she said with perfect sincerity, keeping her face straight with an effort, and Greg shook his fist at her.

"Don't laugh," he warned her. "The boys in Washington are going all out with Sakarya. The King knows the power he has with those oil fields. Through Marina's influence with her husband Sakarya has become more pro-Western, but it's still an iffy thing. This charity ball will be the first time such an event has been held in an Arab country and it's going to be covered by all the news agencies.

Television will be there, too, of course. I've even heard that Rhydon Baines will interview the King, but it hasn't been confirmed yet." Greg leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head.

"There's a rumor going around that Baines is quitting television anyway.

Sallie's bright eyes dimmed a fraction. "Really?" she asked. "I never thought Rhy Baines would quit reporting."

Greg narrowed his gaze on her, his attention caught by her tone. "Do you know Rhydon Baines?" he asked incredulously. It didn't seem likely. Rbydon Baines was in a class by himself with his hard-hitting documentaries and interviews, and Sallie hadn't been a top-flight reporter for that long, but the girl did get around and she knew a lot of people.

"We grew up together," Sallie said casually. "Well, not really together, he's older than I am, but we come from the same town."

"Then I've got more good news for you," Greg said, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her sharply.

"But keep it close. It's not supposed to be general knowledge yet. The magazine has been sold. We've got a new publisher."

Sallie's heart jolted. She wasn't sure if that was good news or not. A turnover at the top could mean a turnover at the lower levels, too, and she loved her job- World in Review was a first class publication; she would hate to see it ruined.

"Who's the new head knocker?" she questioned warily,

"Didn't you guess?" He looked surprised. "Rhydon Baines, of course. nat's why it's not definite about the interview with the King of Sakarya. I heard that the network offered him anchor man to get him to stay, but he turned them down."

Sallie's eyes became huge. "Rhy!" she repeated in a dazed tone. "My God, I never thought he'd come out of the field. Are you certain? Rby loved reporting more than-more than anything else," she finished, her heart almost stopping in alarm as she realized what she'd nearly said: Rhy loved reporting more than he loved me! What would Greg have said if she'd blurted that out? She could see her job going down the drain anyway, without anticipating the event.

"The way I understand it," Greg expanded, puffing on his cigar and not noticing the slight hesitation in her speech, "he's signed with the network to do a certain number of documentaries over the next five years, but other than that he's coming out of the field. Maybe he's bored."

"Bored?" Sallie muttered, as if the idea was incomprehensible. "With reporting?"

"He's been on top of the heap for a long time," Greg replied. "And maybe he wants to get married, settle down. God knows he's old enough to have all of his wild oats sowed."

"He's thirty-six," Sallie said, struggling for control. "But the idea of Rhy settling down is ridiculous."

"Frankly, I'm glad he's coming in with us. I look forward to working with him. The man's a genius in his field. I thought you'd be happy with the news, but you look like someone's spoiled your Christmas."

"I-I'm stunned," she admitted. "I never thought I'd see the day. When will the news be made public?"

"Next week. I'll try to see that you're here when he comes in, if you like."

"No, thanks anyway," she refused, smiling ruefully at him. "I'll see him soon enough."

Returning to her desk several minutes later Sallie felt as if she'd been kicked in the gut and, rather than face Brom's questions, she detoured to the ladies' room and collapsed on the sofa. Rhy! Of all the news magazines, why did he have to choose World in Review? It would be almost impossible for her to find another job she liked nearly as well. It wasn't that Rhy would fire her, but she knew that she didn't want to work with him. Rhy was out of her life now and she had no room for him; she didn't want to be around him even on a professional basis.

What had Greg said? That perhaps Rhy wanted to marry and settle down? She almost laughed aloud.

Rhy was already married-to her, and they'd been separated for seven years, during which time she had seen him only on television. Their marriage had broken up precisely because Rhy couldn't settle down.

Breathing deeply, Sallie stood up and smoothed her expression. Worrying about it now would interfere with her work and she was too much of a professional to allow that. Tonight would be plenty of time to plan what she'd do.

That night as she dawdled over the grapefruit half that constituted her supper, her face brightened. The possibility was strong that Rhy wouldn't even recognize her; she'd changed a lot in seven years, lost weight, let her hair grow, even her name was different. And the publisher wouldn't exactly be rubbing shoulders with the reporters; she might go for weeks at a time without even glimpsing him. She was out of the country for long stretches, too.

Besides, would Rhy even care if he discovered that one of his reporters was his estranged wife? Seven years was a long time, and there had been no contact at all between them. The break had been final, absolute. Somehow neither one of them had gotten around to filing for a divorce, but there really hadn't been a need for one. They had gone their separate ways, built separate lives, and it was as if the year they'd been married never existed. The only result of that year was the drastic change in Sallie. Why couldn't she carry on with her job like always, even if Rhy did recognize her?

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed possible. She was good at her job and Rhy wasn't a man to let his private life interfere with work, as she knew better than anyone else. If she did her job and kept out of his way he would never let out any hint of their personal connection. After all, it was all over for Rhy, just as it was for her.

Usually Rhy never entered her thoughts unless she saw him on television, but now that his presence loomed so large in her life again she found the past crowding in on her. She tried to concentrate on other things and managed fairly well until she went to bed that night, when memories of that year swamped her.

Rhy. Sallie stared upward through the darkness at the ceiling, recalling his features and forming them into his face. She could do that easily, for she'd seen him on television any number of times these past seven years. At first she'd been left sick and shaking whenever she glimpsed his face and she would rush to turn the set off, but gradually that reaction had left her, turned into numbness. Her system had protected itself against such intense grief, allowing her to pick up the pieces of her shattered life and try to build again. The numbness had turned into determination and the determination into indifference as she learned to live without Rhy.

Looking back at the timid, insecure girl she had been, Sallie felt as if that girl had been a stranger, Someone to be pitied but not really worth wasting any grief over. The wonder wasn't that Rhy had left her, but rather that held ever been attracted to her in the first place. No matter how she considered it she just couldn't find any reason why a dynamic man like Rhy Baines would have wanted to marry a mousy little nonentity like Sarah Jerome. She hadn't been the gay, daredevil Sallie then, but Sarah.

Quiet, plump, malleable Sarah.

Unless Rhy had married her just because she was malleable, someone he could control, push into the background when he wanted her out of the way, yet someone who would provide home and hearth when he did wander back home? if so, he'd been sadly disappointed, for she'd been malleable on every point except his job. Sarah wanted her husband at home every night, not flying off to report on wars and revolutions and drug smuggling, the very stuff that was the wine of life to Rhy Baines. She had sulked and nagged and wept, terrified that each time he left her would be the last, that he'd come home in a coffin. She wanted only to hold that strong man to her because she lived only through him.

In the end it had been too much for Rhy and he had walked out after only a year of marriage, and she hadn't heard from him since. She'd known that he wouldn't call her because his last words to her had been, "When you think you're woman enough for me, give me a call!"

Cynical, hurting words. Words that had clearly reYealed his contempt of her. Yet those words had changed her life.

Sighing at the sleep that evaded her, Sallie rolled onto her stomach and clutched the pillow into a ball against her chest. Perhaps tonight was a good time to dredge up all the memories and give them an airing. After all, she might shortly be seeing her long-absent husband.