No more red-eye flights from the West Coast. She was too damned old to party all weekend in Los Angeles and be at work Monday morning. She hoped no one had snapped a photo of her coming home last night. Ever since John Kennedy, Jr.’s tragic death, the paparazzi had been swarming. Celebrity—and pseudo-celebrity—news was big business.

She took a long, hot shower, washed and dried her hair, and dressed in a pair of designer sweats. By the time she emerged from the steamy room, Grant was waiting for her at the door. In his suit from last night, with his hair messy in a studied way, he looked incredibly handsome.

“Let’s play hooky,” she said, sliding her arm around his waist.

“Sorry, love. Got a flight to London in a few hours. I’m to see the folks.”

She nodded, unsurprised. He always found a reason to leave. Locking her door, they went to the elevator and rode down together. At their separate black town cars, parked one in front of the other on Central Park West, she kissed him goodbye and watched him leave.

She used to love the way he came and went in her life, always arriving unexpectedly and leaving before she could get bored or fall in love. In the past few months, though, she felt as lonely with him as without him.

Her uniformed driver handed her a double-shot latte. “Good morning, Ms. Hart.”

She took the coffee gratefully. “Thanks, Hans,” she said, getting into the car. Settling back, she tried not to think about Grant or her life. Instead, she stared out the tinted window at the dark streets of Manhattan. This time of day was as close as the city came to sleeping. Only the hardiest of souls were out—garbage collectors, bakers, newspaper deliverymen.

For more years than she wanted to count, she’d lived this routine. Almost from her first day in New York, she’d been waking up at three-thirty A.M. for work. Success had only made long days longer. Since CBS had lured her over, she’d had to include afternoon meetings in addition to her morning broadcasts. Fame and celebrity and money should have allowed her to slow down and enjoy her career, but the opposite had occurred. The more she got, the more she wanted, the more afraid she was of losing it, and the harder she worked. Every job that came her way, she took—narrating a documentary on breast cancer, guest-hosting a super new game show, even being a judge for the Miss Universe contest. And then there were her guest appearances on Leno, Letterman, Rosie, etc. And holiday parades that needed a grand marshal. She made sure no one could forget her.