I Know Who Holds Tomorrow Read Online Free

of Broadcaster of the Year, was about to be announced by the legendary Walter Cronkite. The nominees’ names had already been given. Wes Reed’s name was among the four.
    Opening the envelope, Cronkite’s mouth curved into one of his rare smiles, then he lifted his head and said in that distinctive voice, “For Broadcaster of the Year, the award goes to Wes Reed.”
    Wes, known just as much for his jubilance as his tenacity, surged to his feet. People from his table and around him, quickly came to offer
handshakes and robust pats on the back. He acknowledged them with a flash of the killer smile that had made him a favorite of women viewers. But as the award testified, he was respected by men as well for his hardhitting commentary.
    As applause continued, he turned to Madison sitting beside him, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
    â€œCongratulations, Wes,” Madison said, still applauding. She more than most knew how much this award meant to him. Finally he had been validated by his peers, recognized as a great reporter, not just a great black reporter. This award capped off a year when he had won several, including the Ma’At Award from the Regional Association of Black Journalists. He had succeeded in his career, if not in his personal life. -
    With a final wave of acknowledgment, Wes started toward the stage, then whirled and came back to Madison. His manicured hand extended toward her. Applause erupted again. This time louder. Only Madison, who was watching, saw the almost imperceptible tightening of his mouth, the glint in his hazel eyes. Dutifully, she placed her hand in his. This was his night.
    As they made their way toward the stage Madison heard the comments that always made her wince inside.
    â€œAren’t they a beautiful couple?”
    â€œThey’re so happy.”
    â€œThey’re perfect.”
    With difficulty Madison kept the smile on her face. Louis’s PR had succeeded beyond any of their wildest dreams.
    In her mind’s eye, she could see Wes, tall and elegant in his tailored tuxedo with a patterned vest, black tie, and snow-white pocket square. Her red Valentino slip gown highlighted her honeyed complexion and chocolate-brown eyes. The gown also picked up the red in Wes’s vest and the red in the rose in his lapel. If you didn’t look past the surface, they did indeed look good together.
    Onstage, Wes accepted the award with one hand and shook Cronkite’s hand with the other. Then he reclasped Madison’s hand, drawing her with him as he stepped in front of the Plexiglas podium. “Few times in my life words have failed me. This is one of those rare times.” As expected, the audience laughed. Wes had earned his reputation as the great “talker.”
    Finally releasing Madison’s hand he ran a long finger over the award.
Then his head lifted, his soothing voice was deep and serious. “There are only two occasions that I will treasure more than this one, and since the first is the day Madison agreed to marry me and the second is the day we were married almost five years ago, it is right and fitting that she be with me to share this third occasion.” Turning, he stared down into her eyes. “Thank you for putting up with me and my crazy schedule, for letting me follow my dream, and most of all for loving me.”
    Applause erupted. People stood to their feet. Madison swallowed, unable to say anything. Wes placed a kiss on her forehead that bespoke of tenderness and love. Curving his hand around her waist, he led her from the stage.
    It wasn’t over.
    Backstage more press waited. Microphones were thrust in their faces, cameras flashed, the glaring lights of the television cameras focused on them to catch every nuance.
    Well aware of how the media game was played, Wes keep his arm around her waist. Madison’s smile never faltered. She also knew the routine, knew the questions that would follow, knew the