“You’ve worked here for how long, and you don’t know his name?”
I swear, I heard her eyes roll. “I’ve been here five years doing the morning drive. But he’s new. We can’t seem to keep overnight jocks for very long.”
She slammed her mug down, slopping a little coffee on her side of the counter. “Tack, he’s been here for two years.”
I was in too good of a mood to argue, despite the distinct lack of nookie the night before. Must’ve been the mantra. So I shrugged and changed the subject. “Feeling settled in yet?”
She blinked a lot and seemed to choke on her coffee. “What?”
“I thought we might start getting back to what the listeners expect in the morning. Idiot criminal stories, funny news, toss in a couple of real news stories… we need to give them more than traffic and music on their commute.”
“I’ve wanted to talk to you since I got here about some ideas I have. But you keep running out the door like you’re about to die.”
Babydoll, if only you knew.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes before we start. Hit me with them now.” Her eyes narrowed and she looked like she wanted to hit me with something else. Luckily for me, there was nothing handy.
“What do you think of celebrity gossip? Like sarcastic trash-talking. But only for the ones who are total media hogs and can’t stop screwing up.”
I pondered that one. We get a lot of actors and rock stars in for interviews, and alienating them would be bad business.
She tacked on, “Don’t glower. I don’t want anything too overboard. I’m not suggesting attacks, just a why don’t you wise up approach, like when Lindsay Lohan appeared in court in pajama pants.”
“I wasn’t glowering.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I was thinking.”
She blew out a breath. “Who cares how your face looked? What did you think about the idea?”
I was thinking it was a lawsuit waiting to happen. But… “Where would you get the stories?”
“Google celebrity news, People online, Rolling Stone… reputable sources who would take the fall before we would for simply repeating what they said. No blogs, no National Enquirer, none of the exploiters and hearsay sites.”
I sipped my coffee with one hand and drummed the fingers of the other on the Formica. I didn’t want the show to go too girly. But, those preliminary ratings were encouraging. In her favor. Good thing I’d never shown them to her.
“I’m only talking about once or twice per morning, depending on who’s in the news. And it’s a great sponsorship opportunity to up our ad revenue. Bill Kalani thought it was a fabulous idea.”
“You talked to The Big Kahuna about this before you talked to me?” Now she was getting more than my glower face.
“Actually, I—”
“That’s insulting.”
“But—”
“You have my cell number. You could have called me any time.”
“Maybe, but you don’t—”
“And I’m very approachable.”
“Jesus, Tack! BK and I discussed this when he offered me the job.”
“Oh.”
“It was my signature feature in Kansas City.”
“Really?”
“I had a waiting list of sponsors.”
“Oh.” Great. I had been reduced to single words.
“We have one minute to air.” She slipped on her headphones and pulled the mic in range.
When had this conversation shifted to be about her? I realized my headphones were nowhere in sight and scrambled to find them. Their usual peg on the wall was empty, too. She spun the laptop on the counter and made a couple clicks.
“Good morning, Las Vegas! Jensen here in your ears as my partner Tack hunts down his headphones. Let’s start off the morning with something sure to wake you up: AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck.’” She switched her mic off, and I still couldn’t find my damn cans.
“Have you checked your desk?”
“No, why would they be there? I never go to my desk after shift.”
“I saw them in your drawer. Yesterday. They were under a yellow sheet of survey results that had my name written across the top.”
Chapter 6
*Semi Charmed Life*
I didn’t get a word out before she held up her hand like she was stopping traffic.
“I don’t care what excuse you have, Tack. People were congratulating me and there I was, asking why and looking stupid. Milo finally gave me his copy. I remembered you waving a piece of paper around that was the same color yellow¸ so I looked in your desk. And lo and behold—there it was.” Her hand was still up, and I’m pretty sure I felt the skin on my forehead starting to smolder under that glare.