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Authors: Jennifer Crusie

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Charlie started to say something, and then he sighed, and said, “All right, that's fair, I'll do it myself,” and left the office.

Allie put her head down on the desk. The show was ruined, Charlie didn't trust her, and he was still leaving in November.

And she couldn't think of a damn thing to do about any of it except go home and cry in Joe's arms.

T
HE NEXT
M
ONDAY
—after three polite work nights and one miserably lonely weekend, after the calls to the show had dropped off to hecklers who wanted to score off Charlie's arrest record and outraged citizens who wanted him off the air; after Charlie had disappeared for long stretches of time and the police had dropped by to see him—things hit bottom.

Charlie's wife showed up.

She was a little thing, dark and sort of wet with tears, and she was about seven or eight months' pregnant. Karen called Allie to the desk and pointed to her and said, “You're not going to like this. She's looking for Ten Tenniel. She says she's married to him.”

Not possible,
Allie told herself, but the list of possibilities for Charlie had been growing since he'd refused to defend himself on the drug charge. She still believed in him, but it was harder.

She went toward the girl. “Hello, I'm Alice McGuffey, Mr. Tenniel's producer and—”

“Where is he?” The girl stood up and looked at her defiantly. “He's my husband, and I want to see him.”

“He's not here right now, but he should be in any time,” Allie said. “Would you like to wait in my office?” She looked around to see Stewart and Lisa listening in from the hallway. “It's more private there.”

“Where is he?” the girl demanded again, and then with his usual impeccable timing, Charlie came through the doors and stopped when he saw her. “Miranda?”

“Charlie?” She seemed as amazed as he was.

“Don't say anything,” Charlie told her, taking her arm. “We can talk out here.”

“Charlie?” Allie said, outraged.

Charlie shoved Miranda out into the hall and pointed at Allie. “You stay here and stop thinking dumb thoughts. You know me better than this. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“Wait a minute!”
Allie said, incensed, but he was shoving Miranda into an elevator by then and she was left with her own murderous thoughts and Karen and Stewart and Lisa staring at her with sympathy and avid curiosity.

This time she was going to kill him.

But first she was going to find out what the hell was going on.

H
E CAME INTO
her office half an hour before the show and caught her dialing the phone.

“I know.” He held up his hand to stop her from talking. “I'm a creep for leaving you like that. I had to call my dad and put Miranda on a bus home before I could explain. I know you're mad at me and I deserve it, but just let me explain.”

“Oh,
now
you're going to explain.” Allie slapped the phone down. “Well, that's just great.”

“Allie, I'm not—”

“Ten Tenniel. I know. She's your brother's wife, right?”

Charlie sat down. “Well, sort of. They're not actually married. How did you figure it out?”

Allie shook her head, disgusted with him. “It wasn't hard once I woke up. You wouldn't let us call you Ten and that's what the Lawrenceville station was famous for. And you may be a natural on radio, but Harry was right. You didn't have any idea what you were doing that first night. So you came here pretending to be your brother, and since Bill knows your family, he knows that, too. So whatever secret you're keeping is Bill's, and this whole program thing was just a blind, and I've been killing myself to make you a success for nothing.”

“Well, I told you not to do it,” Charlie pointed out mildly. “Which part are you the most mad about?”

“That you didn't trust me,” Allie said, her anger evaporating from the hurt. “You didn't trust me at all.”

“It wasn't that.” Charlie put his head in his hands. “I don't know how the hell this got so complicated. I trusted you. I knew it wasn't you from the beginning. But you go charging in on everything you do, and that was the wrong way to do this.”

Allie leaned forward. “To do what? What do you mean it wasn't me?”

Charlie met her eyes. “Somebody's running drugs from the station. Bill got an anonymous letter and used it as an excuse to get me down here as a favor to my dad. He wanted to know about the letter because he thought it was a smear, and my dad wanted me to get a real job, so they cooked it up between them. And I bought it, and I've been trying to find a link between the mayor or Roger Preston or Mark and drugs. Nothing. So for the past week I've been letting the drug story slide, running around pretending to be a dealer, trying to figure things out. And last night, going over your drug legalization notes, I finally did.”

“Who is it?” Allie asked when she found her voice. “I can't believe it. Who's dealing?”

“Grady,” Charlie said. “It has to be Grady.”

Nine

“A
re you out of your mind?” Allie looked at him in horror. “Grady is the last person to push drugs. He doesn't care about money. He—”

“He cares about his mother,” Charlie said. “And Mrs. Winthrop and Mrs. Wexman and all the rest.”

Allie shook her head. “I don't get it.”

“I didn't get it either at first.” Charlie looked so miserable she wanted to go to him, but not until he stopped saying stupid things about Grady. “Grady grows it behind his dome, but that wasn't enough because I knew Grady wouldn't deal drugs for money. But the fraternity kids said we were giving it away, and then I read your notes on drug legalization and the stuff you found on cancer patients. That's when it all fell into place.”

Allie closed her eyes. “I remember. Pot helps people handle chemo.” Then she had a thought and her eyes flew open again. “Grady gave Beattie pot?”

Charlie nodded. “He'd do anything to help her. And if Beattie knew it helped her, she'd insist on sharing it with others. They've been providing pot for the town's cancer patients. That's why Mrs. Winthrop's grandson got nasty with her. He wanted her stash.”

“Oh, God.” Allie put her head in her hands. “And that's why people bring Grady cookies and things. They're trying to say thank you.” She tilted her head back and thought for a moment. “Well, okay. Now we know. All we have to do is keep out mouths shut about it—”

“No,” Charlie said. “We can't. This is illegal.”

Allie gaped at him. “You can't possibly be thinking of turning Grady in?”

He sighed. “You're not listening. I'm going to tell Grady I know, and he's going to turn himself in. It's illegal, Al. And he's running out of time. That little Winthrop brat sent the letter to Bill. Everybody at the college knows somebody here is dealing. And I've been asking questions. There was that newspaper piece about me being a pusher that made the police start watching me. They know who I've been talking to, and they know something's up. There's going to be hell to pay, and if Grady turns himself in, he's at least got that in his favor. It's too late for anything else.”

“No.” Allie came around the desk and headed for the door. “No. We can stop this. We can stonewall this. Grady is not going to jail.”

Charlie caught her arm. “Don't say anything to anybody. Let me handle this.”

“Like you've handled it so far?” Allie looked up at him, furious. “If you hadn't poked around, we'd be fine. Who is he hurting? He's helping people, and you're going to turn him in.” Allie yanked her arm away from him. “This is the worst. You're just going to stand there and watch him go to prison.”

“What do you want me to do?” Charlie said.

“You started this mess,” she said. “You should fix it.”

“I can't fix it. All I can do is see it through to the end.”

Allie looked at him, uncomprehending. “I can't believe you're doing this. You're not even going to try to work something else out. You're just going to go ahead and do it your way.”

“Allie—”

“Just like Bill,” she said to him, knowing it would hurt him. “Just like your dad.”

His mouth tightened, and then he left the office.

“Boy, I sure can pick them,” she said to nobody in particular, and then devoted all her energy to not crying.

Mark stuck his head in the door. “Say, I just heard about Charlie's wife. That's a really bad break, Allie. Let me take you out to dinner.” He smiled at her, looking as gorgeous as ever, and she wanted him dead, too.

“Get out of here,” she snarled.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he said and escaped out the door.

Allie went back to her chair and thought about tomorrow. She had to think of a plan. Soon.

C
HARLIE WAITED
until Grady came into the booth during the news at quarter to two before he said anything to him.

“You look like hell,” Grady said when he saw him. “Take off, I'll take it from here.”

“I can't.” Charlie looked at him miserably. “I hate this. You have no idea how much I hate this.”

Grady blinked at him. “What's wrong?”

Charlie sighed. “I know you give pot to cancer patients. In fact, a hell of a lot of Tuttle knows you give pot away, Grady. It's all over.”

Grady pushed Sam's basket to one side and sat down on the counter. “Oh.” Sam poked his head out, and Grady scratched him behind his ears. “Well, that depends. Are you going to turn me in?”

Charlie shook his head. “No, you're going to turn yourself in. That should work in your favor. With your dad's lawyers—”

“My dad will disown me,” Grady said, but he didn't seem too upset at the thought. “What can I do to convince you this isn't the best way to do this?”

“Anything,” Charlie said fervently. “You have no idea how much I want to be convinced. But this is going to blow any minute, Grady. Too many people know. You're a lot better off doing this yourself than waiting until they come for you.”

Grady sat looking lost in thought for a moment. Then he met Charlie's eyes. “Can I have some time?”

“All you want,” Charlie said. “But don't take too long. You'll lose the only advantage you have.”

“How did you find out?” Grady asked him as he got up to go.

“The rumors. Your crop out in back. The chemo. The cookies and stuff. It finally all came together.” Charlie shook his head. “I'm really sorry, Grady. I know you were doing it for a good reason.”

“Which is why I don't want to stop.” Grady sat down in the chair. “Let me think about this and I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Great,” Charlie said. “Something else to look forward to.”

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Allie still hadn't thought of a plan even after talking the whole mess over with Joe.

“There's a mandatory prison sentence for possession,” he told her. “And Bill isn't going to be much help once he finds out Grady's been getting his mother stoned.”

“That's a stupid law,” Allie said. “The stuff is medicinal, for heaven's sake.”

Then Joe opened the paper, said, “Oh, hell,” and handed it to her.

There was a picture of Charlie putting Miranda on the bus, captioned Local DJ Abandons Pregnant Wife. Allie stared at it grimly. She was furious with Charlie, but he didn't deserve this.

Then she had a new thought. How had the photographer known to be at the bus station? Somebody had tipped off the paper. Somebody at WBBB.

This one they couldn't blame on the mayor. She got dressed and went into the station early.

Allie was standing outside the booth when Mark came out at ten.

“Allie!” He all but ran over Lisa to get to her. “What a great surprise!”

“I decided to take you up on that lunch offer,” Allie told him. “You free now?”

“We have a conference after every show,” Lisa put in. “Sometimes they last a long time.”

“Not today.” Mark took Allie's arm. “We'll skip it today.”

“But Mark,” Lisa said.

“Forget it.” Mark steered Allie toward the lobby. “This is just great. I've got a lot I want to tell you.”

“Good,” Allie said. “There's a lot I want to hear.”

“I
T JUST HASN'T BEEN
the same without you,” Mark began when they were seated at the Settle Inn. “I've been—”

“You've been busy,” Allie said. “That was you who played all those tricks on Charlie, wiping the tapes, stealing his promos, making the prank calls.”

“Well…” Mark seemed at a loss. “I may have gone too far, but it was all—”

“And then you gave the story about Charlie's wife to the paper. That was a good one.” Allie tried to keep her voice noncommittal.

He looked at her warily. “I might have mentioned it.”

“Why?”

“Well, Lisa called me and told me about it, and I thought that the people of Tuttle should know what kind of guy he is.” Mark shifted in his chair. “You know, leaving his wife pregnant and all. I thought you should know, too. He's not the kind of guy for you, Allie.”

Allie fought down the urge to reach across the table and strangle him. “Oh? And what kind of guy is?”

Mark took a deep breath. “Well, me.” He held up his hand to stop her protest. “I know I made a mistake when I broke up with you, but believe me, I know it now. I was stupid. You want me to come crawling back, I will. Whatever you say.”

Allie shook her head at him in disgusted amazement. “And what about Lisa? She's been working her butt off for you.”

“Lisa's a child.” Mark settled back in his chair. “A lovely child, but still a child. The experience I've given her will look good on her résumé—”

“Oh, you want me back as a
producer.
” Allie nodded. “I misunderstood.”

“No, no! I want you back completely.” Mark leaned forward. “I think we should get married.”

“Married.” Allie nodded. “Married. You're going to go back across the street and tell Lisa that you're dumping her as your producer and your girlfriend to marry me.”

“Absolutely.” Mark beamed at her. “I'm a big enough man to admit my mistakes.”

“You're a dweeb.” Allie stood up. “If you do anything else to sabotage Charlie's show, I will tell Bill and insist that he fire you. I mean it. Stay away from Charlie. And while you're at it, stay away from me.”

“Allie!” Mark stood up to follow her.

“No.” Allie put out her hand to stop him. “I can't believe you pulled this stuff just to save your career. What did you think you were doing?”

Mark blinked at her. “What you taught me to do. Make the show the best.”

“I never taught you to sabotage other shows to do it,” Allie said, appalled, but she knew he was right. The entire time she'd been with him, the show had been everything. She'd just forgotten to teach him morals before she'd left. “There's more to life than radio, Mark.”

“Not to my life,” he said, and she felt sorry for him because he was right again.

“Go make up with Lisa,” she told him. “You're going to need her.”

“H
ARRY TOLD ME
you had lunch with Mark today,” Charlie said when she walked into the booth at ten.

“Harry told you right.” Allie handed him the notes and the promos.

“Have a good time?”

“He asked me to marry him.” Allie turned and walked out of the booth to the production table.

“He
what?
” Charlie snapped over the headset.

“He offered me the producing slot, too,” Allie said through her mike. “The news is almost over. Stand by.”

“Screw the news,” Charlie said. “Did you say yes?”

Allie glared at him. “What possible difference could it make to you since you're leaving tomorrow?”

“None,” Charlie said. “Did you say yes?”

“No,” Allie said. “I said no.”

“Could we stop fighting and talk about this?” Charlie asked her once his heart was out of his throat.

“Why?” Allie looked at him miserably. “Nothing's changed. I told him to stop sabotaging your show, but I don't know why I bothered. You're leaving tomorrow. You're turning Grady in. It's all over, anyway.”

Charlie looked at her just as miserably and said, “All right. Whatever you want.” The news went off and he moved up the mike slide and said, “Good evening, Tuttle. You're with Charlie All Night—”

Allie took off her headphones. He could do the broadcast without her by now. It wasn't as if it mattered. It was his last show. He was going to be gone in another twenty-four hours and then she could put her life back together without him.

She could hardly wait.

T
HEY DID THE REST
of the show with silence between them, Charlie just playing music. The worst was when he did a Paul Anka double play for Sam—“Puppy Love” and “Put Your Head On My Shoulder”—and patted the puppy on his own shoulder until Sam gave up and went to sleep. She loved him so much then, she hurt with it. He only stopped to talk once, this time about the use of marijuana in treating the nausea associated with chemotherapy. He made a good persuasive argument, and Allie knew he was doing it for Grady's sake, to prepare the way for Grady's defense, but it wasn't enough.

He was still going to turn Grady in.

She stayed until Grady showed up at quarter to two to take over the booth.

“Grady, I'm sorry,” she told him when he came in. “If there's anything I can do…”

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