Authors: Cindi Myers
But she was serious about this job, and about working things out with Adam. So rather than blow off what was bound to be an uncomfortable conversation, she faced up to the fact that they needed to talk about what had happened in Carl’s office. “I know you’re not too keen on giving up your solo spot in the afternoon,” she said. “But I think we’ll have fun together.”
“I’m sure we will.” He looked up from contemplating his coffee. “Hey, I didn’t mean to come off nega
tive there at first. This is a terrific opportunity for you and I know you’ll do a great job. And I meant what I said about the listeners being ready for a change. They love you.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He sat forward, both hands wrapped around his coffee cup. “You remember what we talked about, Sunday night? About how two people who work together shouldn’t get involved in a personal relationship?”
So that was what was bugging him. She took a sip of coffee, stalling, and made a face. Urk, it tasted like dirty dishwater. She should know better than to get the last cup. “I remember. But you don’t have to worry about that now.”
“I don’t?” He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because we’ve already proved that being involved with each other off the air makes it that much easier to work together.”
“It does?”
“Sure. Do you think that ‘sexy banter’ that Carl, and the listeners, like so much would have come naturally if we weren’t attracted to each other? It’s because we’re involved that we work so well together.”
“I can guarantee Carl’s not going to buy that explanation. If he finds out the two of us are seeing each other outside of work, we’re both history.”
Her stomach fluttered. “He won’t find out. We’ll be careful.”
He looked unconvinced. “But what happens if things go bad between us? That means the show goes bad, too. Then we’re both worse off than we were before, both professionally and personally.”
“Why are you assuming things won’t work out?”
“I’m being realistic. Most relationships do end at some point. What happens then?”
“I say we worry about that then.” Why borrow trouble by thinking negatively now? “We’re both adults. We can handle it.”
“I thought I could handle Bonnie and it almost cost me my job.”
She debated dousing him with her coffee, but told herself that wouldn’t exactly prove her point. “That’s not fair. I’m nothing like Bonnie.”
He sat up straighter. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But I’ve always tried to keep my personal life separate from my work. Every time I’ve deviated from that, I’ve ended up paying a big price.”
“I don’t see how we’re going to do that if we’re working together every day.”
He looked pained. “I’m saying we need to quit while we’re ahead. What happened at the Furniture Gallery was great. I’ll never forget it. But we need to put it behind us now and focus on work.”
She couldn’t believe she was hearing him right. “You’re serious? You don’t want to sleep with me again? Ever?”
“Keep your voice down.” He glanced around the still-empty room, then turned to her again, his voice softer. “It’s not that I don’t want to. But I think it would be best for both of us if we were friends and co-workers, not lovers.”
He made it sound so simple. Like turning the dial to another channel. “I don’t know whether to feel hurt that you could drop me so easily, or amazed at the way your mind works,” she said.
“Don’t be hurt. And don’t think this is easy for me. But it’s for the best. You’ll see.” He stood. “I have to go get ready for the show. Are you coming?”
“Sure. In a minute.” As soon as she had time to calm down. Right now, all she wanted to do was knock some sense into him.
After he left, she got up and poured her too-bitter coffee down the sink. So Adam thought they should put what happened this weekend behind them. Go on as if it never happened.
How was she supposed to pretend the most amazing sex of her life hadn’t happened? How could she treat Adam as a mere
friend and co-worker
when he meant so much more to her now?
At least he hadn’t suggested she turn down the job. He must have known how much this chance meant to her. But dammit, why should she have to ignore her feelings for Adam in order to succeed in her career?
There had to be a way to have her dream job and her dream man at the same time. Surely she was smart enough to find that way.
B
Y THE TIME
Bonnie got home that night, she had worked herself into a fury over her latest mistreatment at the hands of KROK management. Doug was waiting for her, lounging on the sofa and watching TV as if nothing in the world was wrong.
“Shut off that noise. I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, and tossed her purse on the coffee table in front of him, narrowly missing an open can of beer.
He hit the off button on the remote and rescued the beer. “Tough day?”
“It was a horrible day. The worst.” She whirled to face him, hands on her hips. “You’ll never guess what they’ve done now. Never in a million years.”
He sipped the beer. “So tell me.”
“They’ve put that, that,
nobody,
Erica whatever-the-hell-her-name-is, in the drive-time slot with Adam Hawkins.”
“I see,” he said, looking puzzled. “And that’s bad because?”
“Because I should have had that position, not some amateur like her.” She began to pace, high heels making sharp round circles in the thick pile of the carpet. “Nobody even had the courtesy to warn me. I showed up to do the traffic report at four and there she was, sitting in my chair. The one I always sit in to do my reports. I couldn’t believe it.”
Erica hadn’t even been smart enough to move out of the way. Bonnie should have known then something was up. “You’ll have to stand today,” Adam told her, not even bothering to apologize. “We’ll try to have another chair for you tomorrow.”
“What is
she
doing here?” Bonnie couldn’t even look at Erica, instead focusing on Adam.
“Adam and I are doing the afternoon show together now,” Erica said, as calmly as if she was announcing the time.
“Oh, are you?” Bonnie practically purred. She knew better than to let them see how she was really feeling. How
enraged
the news made her. She even smiled at Adam. “Did you suggest her for the position?” she asked.
“It was Carl’s idea.” Erica butted in again. “He thought listeners were ready for a change.”
“If the listeners want a change, Carl should give them me,” Bonnie said now to Doug. “Carl obviously hates me. He discounts all my hard work and gives some…some child, a complete amateur, her own show when she’s only worked on the air a few hours.”
“If he’s so against you, maybe you should get a job somewhere else.” Doug helped himself to an apple from the bowl on the coffee table.
“I don’t want to go anywhere else. KROK is the number one station in Denver. Going somewhere else would be like taking a demotion.”
Doug took a bite from the apple. “Maybe you could sue.”
“Believe me, I’ve thought of that. But why should I have to pay a lawyer to get what I deserve?” She began to pace again. “No, I need a way to open Carl’s eyes to my value at the station.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. But I’m always thinking. Always looking for my opening. And when I find it, they’ll all be sorry they took me for granted.”
“I don’t see how anybody could take you for granted, baby.”
Doug always said the right thing, one of the reasons she liked having him around. But words weren’t always enough. She wanted proof that she was valued. She wanted her own radio show and the fans she deserved.
She was tired of people standing in the way of her dreams. If she had to shove them over to get what she wanted, then it was time to start shoving.
“T
HAT WAS
‘Into the Morning’ by The Weekend.” Adam segued into the next promo. “Speaking of the weekend, on Saturday from one to four I’ll have the KROK swag van at Highlands Audio, 42nd and Federal. Stop by and get your free KROK bumper stickers or T-shirts. I’ll also have some CDs and concert tics to give away. While you’re there, check out the great deals on home and car stereo systems.”
“Would that be the brand-new swag van?” Erica asked, right on cue.
“That’s the one. A replacement for the one totaled in Naughty Nick’s accident. Stop by and check out the sick paint job on this baby. So what are your plans for the weekend, Erica?”
“I’ll be at the Green Day concert Saturday night. And Saturday afternoon, I’m having a new bed delivered.”
That
certainly wasn’t in the script, but he played along. “A new bed? Something you bought to celebrate our new show?”
“Not exactly. Mattress Max was so pleased with the job we did raising money for the Salvation Army that he’s sending me my very own Therapedic Sleep System.”
And what exactly did Max expect in return? The lecher. Adam pushed the thought away and kept up the patter. “How about that, folks? Max didn’t send me a mattress. Maybe if I had long blond hair and big b—”
“Now, Hawk, you’re going to give people the wrong impression.”
“I was going to say big blue eyes.” His eyes met hers, and his heart beat a little faster. Seeing her every day this way hadn’t done anything to make him stop wanting her. Working together in the small sound booth, it was impossible not to brush up against each other a dozen times a day. And now she was talking about mattresses, reminding him of the time they’d spent alone, in the dark, in a certain king-size bed…
While he segued into the commercial break, she scribbled a note and passed it to him.
Since you didn’t get a new mattress of your own, you’ll just have to come over and try out mine
.
He cleared his throat, determined to steer the conversation back to safer territory.
You know why that wouldn’t be a good idea,
he wrote back.
Oh, I think it would be a very good idea
. She winked as she passed back the scrap of paper. He checked the countdown clock and saw it was time to go live once more.
“Good news, folks. Naughty Nick will be back on the air Monday morning. His leg’s still in a cast, but he hasn’t let that slow him down.”
“I heard they kicked him out of the hospital for chasing nurses,” Erica said.
“I heard they booted him because he
caught
one.”
“I’m sure he’ll have some wild stories to tell,” Erica
said. “So be sure to tune in Monday morning at 6:00 a.m. for the return of Naughty Nick.”
“Looks like it’s time for us to say goodbye. Have a safe weekend. Casey is up next to take you out on the town for your Friday night.” He hit Play and the strains of Korn’s “Did My Time” blasted from the speakers.
Erica removed her headphones and grinned at him. “Our first week done. I thought it went pretty well.”
“You did great.” He stowed his headset and stood and stretched. He lowered his voice and moved close enough that any listening production crew wouldn’t be able to overhear. “What’s with the stuff about the bed?”
“It’s true. I am getting a new bed this weekend.” She gave him a coy look. “And you’re welcome to try it out anytime.”
“I am not getting back in your bed.” He had to force the words out, but he meant them.
“You say that, but I know you want to be there. And I want you there.”
Her words sent heat curling through him. “Enough. I told you why that’s a bad idea. Nothing’s changed about our situation to make it a good one.”
“You’re too young to worry so much.” She retrieved her purse from under the console and slung it over her shoulder. “Want to go for a drink? Celebrate our first week together?”
He shook his head. “Give it a rest.”
“You know what I think?”
He groaned. “No, but you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”
“I think you’re a masochist. You like to punish yourself. Either that, or you’re afraid to have a good time.”
“Thank you, Dr. Laura.” He fished his car keys from his pocket and headed toward the door. “See you on Monday.”
He hurried across the parking lot, hoping she’d have the sense not to follow him. So she thought it was cowardly not to follow through on his feelings for her. From his point of view, avoiding her took more guts than he’d known he had. If he’d been the type to believe in karma, he’d have said he was paying for past sins by having to struggle so hard to do the right thing now.
He was unlocking his car, almost home free, when Bonnie cornered him. “Going to meet your little girlfriend?” She leaned against the driver’s side door, preventing him from opening it.
“If you’re talking about Erica, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Doesn’t look that way to me. You two sound pretty cozy on the air.”
“It’s part of the act.” A lie, but she didn’t have to know that. Carl
had
encouraged them to flirt on air.
“You’re a terrible actor. I should know. If Carl finds out you two are a hot item, he’ll fire you both.”
“There’s nothing for him to find out. There’s nothing going on between us.”
He pushed her aside, and slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. She tapped on the glass and he reluctantly rolled down the window.
She leaned down farther, and looked him in the eye. “She’s only using you, you know. She’s ambitious, and she saw you as a way to get what she wanted.”
“Like you did, Bonnie?” He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. “Only it didn’t
work for you, did it?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled away. She stumbled back from the car. When he looked in the rearview mirror, he could see her still standing there, staring after him, no doubt with hate in her eyes.
Would Erica one day look at him that way, too? As much as he told himself he wanted to put some distance between them, her admiration was a salve to his ego. One he didn’t know if he could bear to give up.
H
AVING STRUCK OUT
with Adam, Erica talked Tanisha into going out with her to dinner. After Thai food in LoDo, they headed out to Spinnaker, a hot new dance club. “If nothing else, maybe we can meet some hot guys and dance,” Tanisha said as they settled at a table.
Erica looked around at the neon-accented bar and the sunken oval dance floor. “Yeah.”
“You don’t sound that enthusiastic. Let me guess. There’s only one guy you want to dance with right now.”
“What am I going to do? As long as we’re on the air he’ll talk to me, even flirt with me. But as soon as that red light goes out, he can’t get away from me fast enough.”
“Maybe he’s being smart. He doesn’t want to get fired.”
“It’s a stupid rule.”
“Yeah, but it’s still a rule. Is any guy worth losing a great job?” A waitress arrived with their drinks and Tanisha handed her a ten. “I’ll get this round.”
“Thanks.” Erica sipped her margarita. Tart and strong. Enough of these and maybe she’d work up the
nerve to do something about Adam. “I’ve thought of trying to make him jealous, but who with? There aren’t that many guys to choose from.”
“There’s Nick.”
Both women made a face. “There’s Jazzman Jerry,” Erica said. “But he’s, what, fifty? And he’s married.”
“I’m pretty sure the new intern, Davie, is dating someone. I’m pretty sure Mason is gay. And Charlie is engaged to that jock from KGSY.”
Erica took another sip of margarita. “I’ve thought about going over to his house and demanding he have sex with me.”
Tanisha shook her head. “Girl, you are pathetic. Have you thought about just playing by his rules?”
“What do you mean?”
“Accept that it’s not going to happen between you two and move on. I mean, no sense mooning after some dude who doesn’t even appreciate you.”
Erica shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
She looked out over the dance floor, above the gyrating mass of bodies, and debated whether or not to say out loud something she’d scarcely admitted to herself. “I just feel really…I don’t know,
obsessed
with him.”
“Come again?” Tanisha leaned over the table toward her, one hand to her ear. “Obsessed?”
“I know it’s crazy. I don’t even understand it myself. I get that way about things sometimes.” About men, about jobs or even her hair. Erica would be going along with her life just fine, then out of the blue some new urge would hit her. Following those urges had led her to change majors and give up on relationships, not to
mention cycle through a dozen different hairstyles, drawn by the lure of something she was sure was better.
True, such impulsive choices had often given her grief, but she knew from experience she wouldn’t be satisfied until she gave into them. It was a quirk of her personality she’d learned to live with.
Besides, Adam was different. Her feelings for him went beyond mere preoccupation. She pushed aside her half-finished drink and put her elbows on the table, chin in hand. “What happened that weekend at the Furniture Gallery was amazing. We were so close.”
“You ought to know by now that when a guy has sex with you it doesn’t always mean anything. You were there, you were naked, you had fun—but that’s not love.”
“This was
different
.” She shook her head. “I can’t explain, but Adam and I really had a connection. We talked about all kinds of things. Just being with him felt so…so intimate. I’ve never experienced anything like that.” In a way, it was scary, but people should confront their fears, right?
Tanisha frowned. “So you’re saying the only time the man can open up is when he’s having sex.”
Erica straightened and reached for her drink. “I guess that’s it.”
“Then he has problems maybe you can’t solve.”
“Maybe he has problems he needs me to solve.”
Tanisha rolled her eyes. “I never pegged you as one of those women.”
“What do you mean?”
“Women who are attracted to men who
need
them.”
“I’m not attracted to Adam because he needs me.” Erica trailed her thumb around the rim of her glass. “Well, not much. I’m attracted to him because he’s…he’s Adam.” Sweet, sexy, strong in a way she couldn’t describe. She’d glimpsed a side of him most people didn’t see.
“It’s okay.” Tanisha patted her hand. “Nobody ever said these things made sense.”
Erica drained the last of her drink. “This is too depressing. Let’s not talk about it anymore. What about you? How’s it going with that guy in your building?”
“I saw him in the laundry room last week.”
“And? Were you wearing the harem girl outfit?”
“Nah. I didn’t have the guts to do that. But we talked for a while. Flirted some. I think there’s a chance he’ll ask me out soon.”
“Why wait for him? You should ask him out.”
“Maybe. I’m not sure I have the guts you do. I sure as hell couldn’t seduce a man I hardly knew just because he turned me on.”
“Why not? Especially if you were spending the weekend in bed with him anyway.”
Tanisha laughed. “There is that.” She picked up her drink, but froze with her glass halfway to her lips, her eyes widening. “Get a load of the couple that just walked in.”
Erica looked over her shoulder. “Who?”
Tanisha swatted her hand. “I told you not to look. It’s that redhead and her boy toy, in the S & M getup.”
Erica ducked her head and pretended to dig through her purse. Out of the corner of her eye she watched a tall woman with flame-colored hair saunter across the
room. As far as she could tell,
everyone
in the place was watching her. Judging by her outfit, that was exactly what Red had in mind. The black vinyl bustier and micromini hugged every curve, leaving little to the imagination. She wore stiletto thigh-high boots and her hair was drawn back in a severe ponytail. A muscular man with a shaved head trailed behind her, dressed in black leather pants and vest, a studded dog collar around his throat.
“What are they supposed to be, some kind of circus act?” Tanisha whispered.
From their table, the two friends had a good view of the dance floor and the bar. Usher began to play and the redhead led her escort onto the dance floor. Despite the other dancers crowding around them, the couple was easy to spot. The man was several inches taller than most of the men, and the woman’s bright hair glowed like a candle flame even in the muted lighting of the dance floor.
“He’s not much of a dancer, is he?” Tanisha said.
“I don’t think she minds.” The man stood in the middle of the dance floor, shuffling his feet slightly while the woman moved around him like a pole dancer. She shimmied and slid up and down him, her hands flat against his chest or clutching his shoulders. At one point she straddled his thigh and blatantly rubbed against him, their eyes locked.
Tanisha fished the olive from her martini and popped it into her mouth. “The woman is sick.”
“She’s an exhibitionist,” Erica said. “She likes to be the center of attention.”
The song ended and the pair moved off the dance
floor to the bar. The woman spoke to the bartender and in a moment he brought two shot glasses.
Her partner picked up one of the shot glasses. Red left the second glass untouched, and leaned back against the bar. But instead of drinking the shot, the man held it over her, tipping the glass until a thin stream of liquor dripped onto her throat, and ran down to the valley between her breasts.
“Is he going to do what I think he’s going to do?” Tanisha asked.
“He’s doing it.” Erica held her breath as the man bent and ran his tongue down Red’s chest, licking up the shot. Her heart pounded as she saw, not this stranger, but Adam. And
she
was the one laid back against the bar,
his
tongue cleaning up every drop of the sticky liquor.
“I can’t believe they’re doing that in public,” Tanisha said.
“Have you ever done anything like that before?” Erica asked.
“Body shots? Not in public. That’s just sick.”