Something to Talk About(11)

God, he wanted to kiss her. Instead, Rip leaned against the edge of her desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "You want to talk about why you've been mad at me for the past week, Casey? I think our first day on the new show went well."

"It's demeaning and demoralizing," she stated and slammed her pad of paper on the desk. "I can't work with you. That's all there is to it."

Dave came running toward them, his face wreathed in smiles. "Hey, you two, great show. Great show!" He reached an arm around Casey's shoulder and the other around Rip's and hugged them hard, pulling them close enough to exchange a kiss-if Rip wanted to take advantage of their positions. "Our ratings shot up during your segment. The phones are still ringing. If this doesn't put us back on the charts and please the new owners, I don't know what will." He stepped back, beaming. "Remind me to give you both a raise." He spun and hurried away, calling out over his shoulder. "I've got a meeting with the marketing guys. We're going to advertise 'Something to Talk About' all over the city. Before the end of the month, it will be everywhere. A household word."

Casey raised her hand and called out, "Dave, we need to talk."



       
         
       
        

Dave turned. "Later. I have a lot of work to do. This show could well turn into a gold mine for the station. Stop by my office later, if you still need to talk." He spun and kept walking toward the elevator.

By the time Dave disappeared, Casey's frown had deepened into a scowl. "I have to get him to see sense. I'm not the right person for the show. Maybe Trish could take my spot."

Rip took her hand and squeezed. "You and I both know Trish wouldn't work. She and I don't set off the same sparks. We don't have the same chemistry on or off the air."

"Then get your girlfriend, Bambi. You two seem to have a lot of sparks between you."

Rip narrowed his eyes. "Bambi couldn't hold her own in a sparring match with a brick wall. We need a female with a backbone and a firm set of beliefs opposed to mine. That's what the listeners want to hear. Besides, Bambi's not smart enough to be on radio."

Casey's lips thinned. "I thought that's why you liked her. She's not smart. You said you don't like to date smart women."

His pinned her with his stare. "I dated you."

"And you see where that went." Casey opened her desk drawer and extricated her purse.

Rip grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. "You were the one who called it quits after two dates. Not me."

"I don't believe a woman has to compete against other women for a man's attention. Either she has his undivided attention or she's wasting her time."

"I told you," Rip said, striving for patience, when all he wanted to do was strangle Casey and then kiss her. "Dodi is old news. I haven't dated her in months. I didn't know she would be at the Oilers' event. You can't hold that against me."

"Why not?" Casey's brows rose. "She held herself against you-and left the paint to prove it."

"I wasn't seeing Dodi while I was seeing you," Rip said, a stubborn tightness in his jaw.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not in competition with her, Bambi or Trish for your attention. They can have it. They can have you. Besides, I have...someone in my life."

Casey's announcement hit Rip square in the gut. "You've got a boyfriend? As of when?"

She tilted her chin upward. "Three weeks ago."

"Not long after you broke up with me." His brows dipped. "Now, who's got more than one lover on a string?"

"You and I were never lovers, Rip." She tilted her head back and stared down her nose at him. "Nor will we ever be. So, go. Be with Dodi, or Bambi or whatever airheaded bimbo you like. I'm not ever going to be a notch on your bedpost. I'm off to have my nails done before my next show. Toodles," she said as she sailed past him, wiggling her fingers. 

Rip stood for a long moment, wondering what had just happened. Yeah, he'd slept with Dodi and Bambi, but they weren't the ones he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Being with Bambi last week had pretty much shown him he would never be compatible with either one of the ladies. They didn't have one brain between the two of them. And sex was no longer enough to keep his attention. His ears still rang from Bambi's screeching.

Rip groaned when he realized where he was going with his next train of thought. The only woman who'd managed to keep him on his toes and make him want to drag her off into a storage room to kiss her until she shut up, was Casey Cramer. And she had someone else in her life.

Rip slammed his hand into his fist. "Damn!" He wasn't one to poach on another man's girl. But, if he wasn't mistaken, there was something between him and his sassy, uptight counterpart. She couldn't possibly be in love with the guy when there was so much more fire burning between the two of them.

Rip tapped a finger to his chin and followed the sway of Casey's hips until she disappeared around a corner.

"Sweetheart, this isn't over," he said. "Far from it."





6





"Good morning, this is Casey Cramer with K-YAK 102.5 FM radio. Welcome to the 'Home Show'."

Casey settled onto her stool and into her comfort zone. For this hour, in this small space, she was the expert and firmly in charge of her destiny. The most controversial topic she would discuss during her show was stain removal. There was no one to wrestle with for dominance over the airwaves. No one to stir her temper into blood-boiling, tongue-tying vexation. And if her skin tingled with anticipation for the next battle of wits, no one else would ever know it.

Casey launched into a brief description of the most effective products available on the shelves of Austin's grocery stores capable of removing stains from upholstery, carpet and wall paint. After a brief pause for a sponsor's ad for a revolutionary, oxygenated cleanser, she opened the mic for questions from her loyal, hygiene-minded listeners.

"Let's take the first caller. With whom am I speaking?"

"Hello, Miss Cramer, this is Norma Stratton."

"Hel-Hello, Mrs. Stratton," Casey answered warily, glancing quickly at the monitor, Line 4-Mrs. Stratton-stain on fabric. She relaxed, that sounded innocuous enough. "What question do you have?"

"I've been struggling with a stain on my favorite sheets and wondered what you would recommend to get it out?"

"Do you know what caused the stain, Mrs. Stratton?"

"Of course I know what caused the stain," the querulous woman replied. "I want to know what will cause it to come out."

"I understand, Mrs. Stratton," Casey said patiently, "but it helps to know what the source of the stain is to know what will lift it."

"Well, if you must know..." Norma Stratton paused, then continued in a whisper-as if the radio wouldn't pick up the sound of her voice, "It was love juices."

Suddenly, Casey knew what Jimmy Stewart felt like when Alfred Hitchcock whooshed in for a close-up. Her surroundings became a blur of light and color, and all the air within her personal space was sucked away. She took a deep breath, wheezing slightly, then decided she must have misunderstood. "What did you say, ma'am?"

"Really, Miss Cramer, surely you know what I mean by love juices?"



       
         
       
        

Casey was rocketed right out of her comfort zone. "What material are the sheets made of?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Satin. Black satin."

Casey closed her eyes. That was not a picture she wanted to see. The best she could do was respond in a rush. "I suggest you take the sheets to your local dry cleaner and have them professionally cleaned. Thank you for calling, Mrs. Stratton." Click. Still rattled, she pressed the next lit button. "This is Casey Cramer. With whom am I speaking?"

"Just call me Ray," a smoky, deep-timbered voice filled the booth.

"How may I help you, Ray?"

"I wanted to know how to set up a room for seduction."

"W-what?" Her pulse began to pound against her temples. This program was turning into a nightmare.

"I need some advice for decorating my bedroom. To, you know, set the mood for seduction. Where should I begin?"

"Uh, I don't know if I can help you with that. We're talking about stain removal here. Can we please get back to the subject?" Like love juices on black satin. Egad! Casey's desperate glance darted to Brent.

He shrugged and motioned to the flashing lights on the communications board. The calls were stacking up. Since when had the "Home Show" become so popular?

"Let me just ask you one question..." Ray's deceptively soothing tone slithered across Casey's spine. "If you were a woman, would you prefer satin or cotton sheets against your skin?"

She had to get rid of this Don Juan quickly, before he said something really outrageous. "Well...I am a woman, and I prefer cotton," she replied primly.

"But supposing you were a romantic kind of woman, which would you prefer, then?"