Rip reached out with a single index finger and lifted her chin, closing Casey's gaping mouth. "Catching flies, Cramer?" His lips quirked upward on the corners.
And the swine winked!
Too stunned to speak, Casey could only watch while Dave gave her another odd look. "Well, if you'll excuse us, we're still making the rounds," he said, then ushered the corporate suit away.
Casey rounded on Rip. "You could have told me you were changing. I just made a fool of myself!"
He snickered. "You should have seen Willie's face when he got a load of your threads."
She narrowed her eyes to slits.
"He was probably trying not to swallow his tongue-you've got great legs, sweetheart."
"I have never been so humiliated..." she said, revving to a blazing tirade, and then stopped short when his words sank in. "You really think I have nice legs?"
He leaned close to whisper in her ear, "And a world-class ass."
The skin on her neck burned from the feathery touch of his warm breath, sending waves of tingling sensations to every nerve ending in her body. She shoved him away, knowing her cheeks glowed red from his compliment and aware the contrast with the putrid purple of her shirt couldn't be flattering.
"Hey, Rip!"
Rip and Casey turned to see Dave motioning from the end of the corridor. "Before you leave, I need to see you in my office."
This was it, the day of reckoning. A worried frown settled between her brows.
"Sure thing, Boss." Rip gave him a cocky salute, before turning his attention back to Casey. "Gotta go. Duty calls."
Casey's heart hammered in her chest, and she touched his sleeve. "Are you going to be okay?"
He stared into her eyes, a gentle smile lifting the corner of his lips. "You mean, you care?"
"No, of course not..." she denied, but the words lodged in her throat, and she ended in a whisper. "Well, maybe just a little."
Rip grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "Don't worry, babe. I'm Rip O'Rourke, a legend in my own mind. I can handle anything." Ducking low, he captured her lips in a brief kiss then swatted her bottom. "Later, huh?" Giving her a last smoldering glance, he strode down the hall to meet his fate.
"Sure, later," she said breathlessly to his retreating back, fanning her hot face with her hand. "Oh, my."
"Unfortunately, I have to be across town in twenty minutes to visit my sister. It's not often I get to Austin, and she expects me to drop in when I do." Bill Shamburger rose from his chair in Dave Lebcowitz's office and held out his hand. "I have to admit, you're a lot different than I expected, Mr. O'Rourke."
Rip shook the proffered hand. Shamburger was new on his corporate team, someone his CEO had hired. Since only his CEO knew what Rip did in his spare time, he couldn't expect Shamburger to recognize the owner of ROR. And the man had no expectation of meeting him as Rip O'Rourke when his legal name happened to be Richard O. Rourke. The man was just the kind of employee Rip would have hired. He had done due diligence, asking pointed, intelligent questions, which Rip and Dave had fielded as fast as he'd spit them out. Rip had feared Shamburger knew who he was when he'd been asked into Dave's office, but Dave had simply mentioned to the man that Rip had helped him from time to time with programming advice and wanted his input, as an employee, during their discussion.
"You know, I can only stand so much of my sister and her four children," Shamburger said. "Is there a possibility we could continue our discussion over dinner? We're not finished here." The man paused and looked at Dave and Rip. "That is, if you're available."
"Certainly," Dave said, without hesitation, and he jabbed Rip in the side.
Rip knew the politically correct answer was yes, but he hated being forced into going to dinner with someone other than Casey. But he wanted to make sure Shamburger didn't leave Dave feeling like the station was in jeopardy. If he had to, he'd pull the ROR employee aside and spill the beans to him privately. He hoped he wouldn't have to do that. It would change the man's reaction to him entirely, and he didn't want Dave to know about his ownership of the station. Not yet.
"I'm available," Rip said, regret tugging at his belly. He'd really rather spend the evening with Casey. The only clear thought going through his head at that moment was an image of Casey wearing a worried frown when he'd headed into Dave's office with the ROR executive.
She'd been worried about him. Casey Cramer had shown concern for him, Rip O'Rourke. And she hadn't scalded his ears over that playful little swat he'd given her sweet behind. A feeling of warmth filled his chest, and he broke out in a huge grin.
"Did I say something amusing?" Bill asked, with one eyebrow raised.
Dave glared a warning at Rip over the ROR executive's shoulder.
That didn't keep Rip's smile from broadening. "No. I'm just feeling right with the world." And he did. Casey Cramer had worn a hideous shirt, for him. And she'd said she cared. Suddenly, he wanted very much to remain a part of K-YAK Radio as Rip O'Rourke. To be more specific, he wanted to spend more time matching wits with Casey on "Something to Talk About". The fact he was a billionaire hadn't been a part of his relationship with Casey. She didn't know he could do anything he wanted with the station. She worried he would get fired.
There were a lot of things he wanted to do with Casey Cramer, and he wanted to spend a lifetime trying them all.
"Mr. Shamburger, dinner it is," he said, patting the man on the back as if they were old friends. That's what Rip O'Rourke would do.
"Then it's settled. I'll meet you both back here at, say, six-thirty? Oh, and since some of the items we've discussed aren't firm yet, I'd appreciate it if you two would keep our meeting confidential."
"No problem. See you at six-thirty," Rip said.
"Me too," Dave echoed.
Rip opened the door to Dave's office and held it for Bill Shamburger. Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see three hours had passed since the interview had begun. Casey's show had ended long ago, and no doubt she'd already left for the day.
Still, he couldn't help hoping she'd hung around just to make sure Ol' Rip was still kicking and hadn't been fired for flapping his gums and insulting the suit. Not that it would happen. Rip had an inside track with the new boss. He was the new boss.
Casey had been on pins and needles for the past few hours, waiting for Rip to surface from Dave's office. She'd finished her notes for the next day's programs, emptied her e-mail inbox of a couple hundred messages and played two killer games of solitaire-but still no Rip. She was beginning to worry. She couldn't leave until she'd seen him and gauged how the interview had gone.
"You're wearing a rut in that carpet," Brent teased. "What's the problem?"
Casey stopped her pacing. "That's the problem. I don't know," she said, throwing her hands up. "Rip went into Dave's office with the corporate guy over three hours ago, and I have no idea what's going on in there. The suspense is killing me."
Brent frowned. "I guess this isn't a good time to mention what I overheard Dave say earlier, is it?"
"What? Do you know something?" Casey stopped pacing and stared at Brent, just resisting the urge to grab the collar of Brent's shirt and yank his face close to hers. "Don't mess with me at a time like this. If you know something, spill it." Something of her violent urge must have shown on her face.
Brent held up both hands in surrender. "Hey, Casey I didn't want to say anything. I mean, maybe it's not a bad thing, but I heard Dave tell Rip to dust off his resume."
"Do you think they're firing him?"
"No, no. It's probably nothing." Brent stepped back a couple feet, out of collar-yanking range. "I'm saying, Dave had a concerned look on his face, and he asked Rip to brush off his resume."
Casey's stomach dropped to her toes, and she looked around for a chair, her knees threatening to buckle. "Oh, my God, it's worse than I thought."
Brent laid a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe he was joking. Anyway, I have to get to the sound room. We can talk later if you need to."
"Thanks, Brent," she said.
What was she going to do? If Rip lost his job, she couldn't go on with the show-there wouldn't be any show.
Casey heard the door to Dave's office open and voices talking as they moved down the hall.
Bill Shamburger and Dave were already at the exit door, but Rip was heading her way.
Plastering a smile on her face, she met him halfway.
"How'd it go?" she asked, searching his face for signs of distress.
"I'm not sure. It's hard to tell with these corporate guys. They hold their cards close to their chests."
She exhaled a deep breath. No news was good news. She followed him as he strode to his cubicle and began clearing his desk of the day's clutter.
"So, are you on your way home?" she asked.
"Yup." Rip slid open a desk drawer and pulled out a document. Casey peered over his shoulder. Her stomach lurched. Was it his resume? She couldn't quite see it.
"I was thinking," she began, then took a deep breath to bolster her courage. "I was thinking that maybe we could have dinner together tonight to...you know...talk."