Love on the Air(23)

He plunked down on the fat brown cushions of the lobby couch, his short legs sticking out straight in front of him. He clutched a small action figure in his hand. Christie glanced down the hallway, but there was no sign of Karen's imminent return. If she didn't show up in the next few minutes, Christie decided, she'd take him into the studio with her. He seemed like a quiet little boy, and he'd probably been there before.

Rick had never even mentioned his son. What kind of a father was he?

"What's your name, honey?"

"Jason."

"Do you get to see your dad very often?"

The boy shrugged apathetically. "He's usually too busy."

Christie's opinion of Rick plummeted. She sat down on the couch beside Jason and turned her attention to the figure in his hands, a familiar green-faced monster. "That's a cool-looking Frankenstein monster there."

Jason turned his head toward her, noticeably more animated. "His name's not Frankenstein," he said authoritatively. "That's the doctor's name."

Christie nodded, trying to match his seriousness. "Of course. Everyone knows that."

The blue eyes got wider. "I've got a Wolfman, too," he said, reaching toward the floor for his backpack. "And a mummy ..."

Within moments, Christie was admiring a collection of half a dozen miniature monsters. When she named each one correctly, Jason seemed impressed. "So," she said, "do you take these guys with you everywhere you go?"

Jason nodded. "I keep them on my nightstand at home." He lowered his voice. "But I have to make them face the other way before I go to sleep."

It was hard to keep a straight face, but Christie wouldn't make light of such a confession for the world. "I don't blame you. Monsters are cool, but I wouldn't want them staring at me at night, either."

The shy grin he gave her in response was irresisti ble. Then the glass front door swung open, and Jason's head snapped up.

"Uncle Rick!" The boy hurtled off the couch, and suddenly he was seven feet tall as Rick hoisted him up into his arms.

"Hey, bud!" Rick's grin was the most unreserved she'd seen on him yet.

And Christie felt like a heel. She stood up, watching the two a moment longer. She should head straight to the studio.

"You got here early," Rick was saying. "What happened?"

"Aunt Sylvia dropped me off on her lunch break. Mom wanted to take a nap at Aunt Sylvia's. She said it was a long drive, but I slept through most of it."

Christie found herself mentally sketching possible versions of the Fox family tree. Aunt Sylvia could be Rick's brother's wife... Or his sister...

Jason swung around in Rick's arms and pointed at Christie. "She knows all about monsters. She knows Frankenstein is the doctor's name!"

"Pretty smart for a girl," Rick conceded. He looked over at Christie. "Thanks for watching him."

"We're renting a monster movie tonight," Jason announced. The quiet, subdued little boy was gone, replaced by an armload of squirms. He twisted back to face Rick. "Can she come, too?"

Out of the mouths of babes.

Rick's eyes met hers, over Jason's shoulder, and they shared a moment of awkward hesitation. Through the silence that hung in the air, Christie could have sworn they were thinking the same thing.

They had a six-year-old chaperone. What could be safer?

Rick gave her a slight nod, and she smiled. "I'll bring the popcorn."





Christie rang the bell of Rick's apartment and waited, her arm curled around a large bottle of cola. After working just a few feet across from him for a week, she shouldn't be nervous. It was no big deal. They were just friends. Increasingly good friends, over the past few days. But this was a new context, and one she wasn't sure she was ready for.

She didn't have long to prepare, because the door swung open, and there he was.

Not fair. He'd changed into jeans and a blue sweatshirt, the first time she'd seen him so casually dressed. His smile was relaxed, his thick brown hair slightly disheveled, and all traces of the boss were gone. It was that easy for men. Throw on some comfortable clothes, add an easy smile, and be transformed into serious hugging material.

Friends weren't supposed to look this good.

"Come on in," he said, stepping back. "The pizza's already here."

"Hi," she said, holding out the bottle of soda between them.

Rick took the bottle and closed the door. "Thanks." Wait a minute. He'd shaved. In the past week, Christie had gotten familiar with the light stubble that shadowed his face by the end of the day, and it was gone. That was little more effort than necessary, and the realization pleased her more than it should. She shouldn't want him to look nicer for her. She'd thought about driving home to change, but there wasn't really time, and a trip across the freeway would make it look like she was trying too hard.