"That's what I mean. Who'd ever take me seriously again?"
"Seriously." Yvonne repeated the word thoughtfully. "Maybe that's your problem. Are you always so dead serious about everything?"
"Pretty much. Remember, I was a loan processor for three years." She shuddered at the thought of going back.
"Maybe you need to rethink your priorities. You know what happens if the transmitter of that radio station blows up?"
"Big FCC violation?"
"See, that's your problem. What happens is, life goes on. People are born, they get married, they die, they have kids." She frowned. "Okay, not in that order. But that's the stuff life is made of. Not the station. And you and Rick don't seem to know that."
"Okay. Would you walk away from that station today for a chance to get married and have babies?"
Her eyes gleamed. "Depends on who the babies come from."
"No, seriously." There was that word again. Christie winced. "Would you be happy with someone if the first thing you had to do was give up something you loved?"
Yvonne bit her lip, and they sat in silence. Finally, Christie said, "I'm sorry, but can I ask you one thing?"
"Sure. What?"
"How did you know there's a treadmill in Rick's apartment?"
Yvonne burst out laughing. "Is that what got you going?" She shook her head. "Honey, you're the queen of jumping to conclusions. I've never been there. Never seen it. Rick got the thing when he turned thirty. He started complaining about picking up a few extra pounds, or something like that. He talked about that treadmill on the air for weeks. Milked it for all it was worth."
Christie waved it away. "I'm sorry. I just wondered..."
"Rick and me?" Yvonne shook her head. "No. Not ever. We kid around sometimes, but that's because it's just a joke. Rick's the most professional guy I've ever worked with. It's kind of like on Star Trek. Rick is Captain Kirk, and the station is his Starship Enterprise."
"So what does that make me? Space bimbo of the week?"
Yvonne laughed. "Oh, Christie. I love you."
"Great," Christie said. "Under company policy, you I can date."
This time they both laughed.
"Thanks for listening, Yvonne. I'm sorry I was such a-"
"Forget it. You've been dragging this thing around for weeks."
"So, what if you were in my shoes? What would you do?"
Yvonne squinted pensively. "Either let the guy drag me off by my hair..."
Christie shook her head. Rick wasn't volunteering to do that, anyway.
"Then I'd find someone else to fall for, fast. Or I'd start sending demo tapes to other stations."
That night, Christie loaded a cassette into the air check machine in the studio. She'd improved a lot in the last couple of months, and if she was going to find another job, this demo tape had better be good.
In the days that followed, Christie sent out tapes and became a master at avoiding Rick around the station. There was no point in risking any further contact. She wasn't sure what she was more afraid of: another blowup, or of how she'd react if he were nice to her. Those Christmas kisses-and everything leading up to them-had some long-term repercussions. Too many things carried some reminder of him. Everything from Chinese food to her car, which now started with a roar, thanks to the alternator the garage had replaced at a suspiciously low price.
The nights alone in the studio were the worst. All her life, music had pulled at her emotions. Now it hit her so hard she felt like she was missing a layer of skin. The sad love songs were too close to home, while the happy ones mocked her with images of lovers climbing the skies as high as the highest star. At least "Key Largo" was off the play list, after an inordinately long stay. It had shown up in the rotation of songs shortly after that conversation at Rick's apartment, when she'd told him about her early obsession with Bogie and Bacall. Christie had finally asked Yvonne to take it off.
Then there were the commercials. Rick was on far too many of them for Christie's taste. One minute, he was coaxing her out for an evening of fine dining; a few minutes later, he was promising her the deal of a lifetime on a used car. The fact that he was just as convincing on either one should have told her something, she thought. The eternal chameleon, he could change color as the situation warranted.
At first, Christie sent resumes and tapes to radio stations on the West Coast, but she quickly broadened her search. She was prepared to move to Podunk, Iowa if she had to.
What she wasn't prepared for, on the day of her first live appearance, was to arrive at the station and find Rick already loading the van.
ccHey, I'm supposed to be doing that." She approached the van, wary of this latest new wrinkle.