"Rick and I were up half the night for an emergency, and-things got bad."
Yvonne had been wondering about that ever since she heard Rick would be late. "The earthquake? I know. Rick called in too. I thought it was a sign of the apocalypse."
"Rick called in?"
"Uh-huh. He told Karen at the front desk he'd be in later. What happened, sweetie?"
"Oh, Yvonne, everything blew last night. He hates me."
"No way," Yvonne said. "I never thought Rick would ever call in. Not unless he got laryngitis so bad he had to tap out a signal in Morse code. That's not hate, honey. That's love."
"You weren't there last night." Christie's tone was flat, dead.
It was time to back-announce the last song. Yvonne cued the next one, instead of interrupting their conversation. "Are you okay, sweetie?"
"Not very. But I will be."
Stubborn. "Well, listen, take it easy. And call me later on. We'll do something tonight, okay? Maybe rent a chick flick."
"That sounds nice." But Christie's voice was still faint. "I'll be down at the station for a few minutes later on this afternoon. I've got something to take care of first."
Christie went back over her resignation letter one more time. Her official reason for leaving-"to pursue other opportunities"-took up the least time and space. She spent the rest of the letter acknowledging both Rick and Yvonne for their encouragement and support. She even included a friendly word about Rob. She didn't know if anyone ever read these things, once they were dropped into a file, but she wanted to put it on record somewhere. She'd done several drafts, until she'd said everything she could think of to say. Still, she wasn't satisfied, and finally Christie admitted to herself why.
What she wanted to say most, she couldn't.
She loved Rick. Loved him as much as she'd ever loved the job, and now she couldn't have either one. She'd made sure of that last night. That cold look when he left told her she'd burned her bridges, but good. And it was just as well. She couldn't stay. It had only been a matter of time before it all fell apart.
Now she could go somewhere else and pursue her dream with a clear head. And if a handsome boss ever looked at her sideways, she'd never look back. She'd keep her eyes straight ahead, on the controls where they belonged, and ignore any possible temptation. But Christie knew there was no danger of that.
She'd never again, in her life, meet another Rick Fox.
Finally, she cried.
A little after one o'clock, Yvonne peered down the hall and saw Rick heading for his office with a bundle of mail tucked under his arm, one letter already open in his hand. He went inside and, for the second time she could remember, closed the door behind him. The plot thickened.
A minute later, her phone lit. The extension number showed that the call was from inside the building. She picked it up. "Studio."
Rick said, "Yvonne, have you heard from Christie?"
"She called a little while ago." Yvonne stood up and leaned over the console, craning her neck to see Rick's door. It was still closed. "I think she might be coming in later."
"Thanks."
"Rick?" Yvonne couldn't resist. "Where are you calling from?"
"Very funny. If she comes in, let me know, all right?"
"All right." The connection clicked off. Yvonne thought about going across the hall and knocking on the door, but thought better of it. She'd probably done more harm than good already. This time, she was staying out of the middle.
Nearly two hours after his conversation with Yvonne, Rick waited, his door open again. He was on the air in less than an hour. Maybe Christie wasn't coming. Maybe she really was going to leave things the way they were last night. Maybe he should have driven to her apartment instead of coming here, without worrying about whether or not she was ready to see him.
Maybe she was already on her way to Tucson.
His hand was on the phone to call her when she appeared at the door. Rick immediately rose to his feet. And made himself stay put. He couldn't afford to make any more mistakes.
She looked so small, framed in the doorway. Even across the room, her eyes were a little too bright, as though she'd been crying. She walked in with the same stiff posture he'd seen the day he sent her out of the station.
"Christie." He started to move from behind his desk. Stopped. "Close the door, please."
"No, I won't be here for long." She approached the front of his desk purposefully and stood there, ignoring the chair behind her. "Two things." She closed her eyes for a moment, as if to compose herself. When she opened them again, he saw brilliant shades of green and blue, filled with a storm of emotion that threatened to knock him over. There were times when he'd felt he could read Christie well, but today, he didn't dare guess. "Rick, I said something horrible last night, and it wasn't fair. I'm sorry."