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She backed out of the office, all chance of a graceful exit ruined when she stumbled over the pile of mail in the doorway. She gathered up the mess of envelopes and mailers and headed down the hall, dizzy from the thoughts racing through her head. Was she crazy? She’d just agreed to spend three days in bed with a man who thought he was a rock and roll Romeo—and she was expected to do it while wearing lingerie? She was out of her mind.
She took the stairs two at a time, racing toward her basement cubicle. Too late, she heard someone coming toward her and looked up in time to collide with a tall, very solid man.
Strong arms steadied her, and her cheek pressed against a broad chest which smelled of starch and Irish Spring. Who would have thought that could be such a sexy combination? She smiled, tempted to plead a sudden weakness and thus stay in his embrace a little longer.
Instead she sighed and pushed out of his arms. “Hey, Adam,” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was in a hurry and didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay.” Adam Hawkins’s brown eyes held an expression of concern. “Everything okay?”
She smiled, trying not to look as flustered as she felt. The truth was, within days of her arrival at the station she’d developed a serious crush on the afternoon jock. Not that he’d paid much attention to her. He was polite, of course, and had at least bothered to learn her name, unlike Nick and some of the others, who expected her to respond to “Hey, you.”
But Adam mostly kept to himself around the station. On air he was friendly and warm, but once he took off the microphone, he was a quiet man.
Was there anything sexier than the strong, silent type? Especially when the type in question had broad shoulders, fudge-brown eyes fringed with soot-black lashes, and a bass voice that vibrated right through her whenever he spoke.
Looking at and listening to Adam for hours every day for the past six months, Erica was certain the man had emotional depths and sexual skills just waiting for the right woman—meaning her—to discover.
Too bad their “relationship” so far consisted of mundane comments exchanged in the hall and a few long moments of eye contact.
One more reason to suffer through this gig with Nick. If she did a good job, maybe Adam would start to see her as more than a co-worker. Maybe he’d even wish he were in Nick’s place in that bed.
Of course, there was still Carl’s rule about on-air talent not dating, but she wasn’t official on-air talent yet, was she? It was a small loophole, but she wouldn’t mind exploiting it with Adam.
“You sure you’re okay?” He peered into her face. “You look a little pale.”
She nodded, and shifted the stack of mail in her arms. “I’ll be fine…eventually.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? What happened?”
She studied him through lowered lashes, debating how to break the news. Should she go for sympathy or triumph? “Carl’s giving me a new promo gig.”
“Oh?” Little worry lines creased his forehead. “What is it this time?”
“It’s nothing that bad. It’s good, really. Three days of on-air time, raising money for the Salvation Army.”
The tension went out of his face. “Three days on air? Hey, that’s great.”
“Yeah, the only drawback is I’ll be working with Nick. Not that he’s not a great DJ,” she hastened to add. “It’s just…”
“It’s just that he’s Nick.” He frowned. “Want me to talk to Carl? See if he can find somebody else?”
The thought that he cared enough to stick up for her made her go weak in the knees. She put her hand on his arm, as much to steady herself as for the chance to touch him. “That’s really sweet of you, but I’m okay with it, really. It’s a big chance for me.”
“Three days is a lot. What’s the angle? Some kind of contest or something?”
“Not exactly.” Why did she suddenly feel embarrassed? After all, he—and the rest of the city—were going to find out soon enough. “It’s a fund-raiser for the new homeless shelter.”
“Uh-huh.” He looked wary. “So what are you doing to raise the money?”
“We’re broadcasting from the showroom of Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery.” She took a deep breath, her cheeks hot. “From a…um, a bed.”
“A bed?” The frown lines returned, even deeper this time. “You and Naughty Nick in bed for three days?”
She nodded. “It ought to be a blast, don’t you think?”
He looked at her a long minute, so long she began to feel a very different heat, this one starting somewhere in her chest and spreading downward, reminding her of some rather explicit sexual fantasies she’d indulged in starring the man in front of her.
But before she could wrap her mind around this idea, his expression relaxed and he patted her shoulder. A friendly, brotherly sort of pat. Not the pat of a man who liked the idea of getting her in bed himself.
“It’ll be all right,” he said. “I’ll talk to Nick myself and make sure he understands that he’s to behave like a gentleman.”
She would have laughed, except that she was still fighting an attack of lust. Gentleman and Naughty Nick weren’t words that went together. “Thanks. I think I can handle Nick.” If nothing else, a firm “no” and a strategically placed shove ought to do the trick. Still, she didn’t want Adam to think she didn’t need him at all. “Maybe you can stop by the Furniture Gallery and say hello,” she said.
“Yeah, uh, maybe I’ll do that,” he said. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, then shook his head. “I’d better get to work. Good to see you.”
“Yeah. Good to see you.” She turned and watched him climb the stairs. It was a guilty pleasure she indulged in whenever possible. Word had it a group of female radio personalities had voted it the best ass in radio.
When he was gone, she sighed and headed down the stairs. So much for fantasy. She had to deal with the real world now. She wondered what Carl would say if she showed up at the Furniture Gallery wearing a granny gown and wool socks? That was her preferred winter sleepwear, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t what he had in mind.
ADAM HAD EVERY intention of taking a laid-back approach with Carl, making a joke of the whole bed-in project and somehow persuading him to rethink the idea of having Erica participate. He was glad Carl was giving her another chance at on-air time, but in bed—with Nick? Adam’s head hurt just thinking about it.
Since the fiasco with Bonnie, he’d made a point of staying away from office politics. But Erica was too nice to turn loose with a player like Nick.
By the time Adam reached the station manager’s office he had the makings of a migraine and the first words out of his mouth were “Are you out of your mind?”
Carl looked up from a stack of computer printouts. “Some people would say I’m always out of my mind. Are you referring to anything in particular?”
“This whole bed-in promo with Nick and Erica. It’s crazy.”
“I agree. It’s so crazy it’s brilliant. The listeners will love it.”
“You don’t think it’s going a little too far?”
“Hey, it’s for charity. And they’ll both have clothes on. It’s not like they’ll be having sex on the air or anything. They’ll be doing the regular show, plus live feeds throughout the day. Only they’ll be doing them from a bed.”
At the mention of Erica and sex in the same sentence he had to sit down. Not that he hadn’t thought of her in that context before. More than once he’d caught himself admiring her great legs and indulging in fantasies of them wrapped around him. Women like her—petite, blond and curvy—were definitely his weakness, one he tried to keep under control. It helped to remind himself she was just a kid. She didn’t look a day over seventeen, though he figured she was at least twenty-one, since she’d graduated college.
Still, ten years was too much of an age difference for him to handle. So when she was around he did his best to keep his mind off sex, difficult as that was sometimes. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned toward Carl. “Why Erica? Why not someone else?”
“You tell me. Who else could we use?”
He shrugged. “Why not Bonnie?” As far as he was concerned, his ex and Nick made a perfect couple.
“Why not Bonnie what?”
Adam groaned as Bombshell Bonnie herself filled the doorway. Dressed in white short shorts, gold high-heeled sandals and an orange tank top, she looked as if she was on her way to a job at Hooters instead of her afternoon traffic report.
“Nothing, darlin’. Adam and I were just talking.”
The look she gave Adam could have frozen lava but he was used to it. “Hello, Bonnie,” he said calmly.
As usual, she ignored him. “What’s this I hear about a new promo with Mattress Max?” She perched on the edge of Carl’s desk and leaned toward him, giving him an eye-level view of her cleavage.
Accustomed to Bonnie’s tactics, Carl was unmoved. “Who told you about that?”
She smoothed her hair back and smiled slyly. “Oh, a lady never tells.”
Carl snorted. “Well, it’s nothing to do with you.”
“Who’s doing the promo?” She looked at Adam. Thank God he wasn’t involved in this sleazy scheme. Bonnie didn’t need any more reasons to hate him.
“Nick and Erica are doing the promo.” Carl turned to the printouts again. “Now if you people don’t mind, I have work to do. And so do you two.”
Bonnie frowned. “Who’s Erica?”
“The production assistant and intern?” Adam stood and joined Bonnie beside Carl’s desk. “Erica Gibson.”
Bonnie wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something nasty. “The one who cussed during the two car dealer ads on air? I thought you fired her.”
“Now, Bonnie, everyone deserves a second chance.” Carl said mildly.
Adam shifted, remembering the second and third chances Carl had given him. He certainly understood about giving someone the opportunity to redeem herself. “She has a degree in broadcasting from the University of Colorado at Denver,” he said.
Bonnie narrowed her eyes. “How do you know so much about her?”
“We’ve had a few conversations.” Not long ones, and Erica did most of the talking, but that was more than Bonnie bothered with. The Bombshell didn’t go out of her way for anyone unless she saw some benefit to herself. One of the reasons Adam had split up with her was because he’d been appalled at the way she treated waiters and storeclerks.
Bonnie turned back to Carl. “I have more seniority than any intern. I’m entitled to any special promotion work. Plus our listeners know me.”
The thing about Carl was that he looked harmless until crossed. Now he stood and looked Bonnie in the eye, his expression hard and cold. “Last time I checked, my name is on that door over the title Station Manager. So I decide who does the promos and who doesn’t.”
Bonnie slid off the desk and stood. “Of course you do,” she said. “I only thought since I have more experience and the listeners know me—”
“You thought wrong.” He glanced at his watch. “Don’t you have a traffic report to do in five minutes?”
She pushed her lips out in a pout, but had sense enough not to say anything else. She turned on her heel and left the office with an exaggerated sway of her hips.
When she was gone, Adam turned to Carl again.
“Don’t say anything,” Carl said without looking up. “Erica’s doing the promo and that’s that.”
Adam knew when he was beaten. Carl hadn’t gotten where he was by being a wimp. “All right. But I’m curious. Why didn’t you give Bonnie the job? She’s popular with the listeners.”
Carl’s eyes met Adam’s, and his mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile. “Nick refused to work with her.”
Adam’s eyebrows rose, registering his surprise. He’d have thought Naughty Nick would have been first in line to spend three days in bed with the Bombshell. “Did he say why?”
“He said he didn’t want her busting his chops the way she did yours.”
“Uh, yeah.” He didn’t like to be reminded of their very uncordial breakup.
“Hey, listen, I’m not trying to bring up a bad scene, but I don’t ever want anything like that happening here again. We got complaint calls for months. I mean, on the air she called you an effing rat b—”
“I know what she called me, Carl.” He glanced toward the empty doorway. “It’s no secret Bonnie has a bad temper.”
“You never should have gotten involved with her.”
“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, I was new in town, new to the job. She came on to me and I was flattered. But I’ve learned my lesson. It won’t happen again.”
Carl nodded. “One thing I like about you is you’re a man who learns from his mistakes.” He looked at his watch again.
“I know, I know. I’ve got a show to do.” Adam started to leave, but paused in the doorway. “You’ll tell Nick to behave himself with Erica, right?”
“Nick will behave himself. Everything will be great.”
Right. Everything would be great. But he was going to worry until this was over with, all the same. He might be unable to do anything about his attraction to Erica, but he hadn’t yet found a way to stop thinking about her.
2
“ALL RIGHT, PEEPS. You all know what day it is. That’s right—it’s Tell All Tuesday. So call me up with your true confessions. Today’s topic—your baddest sexcapade. The world and Naughty Nick want to know.”
“Sexcapades?” Erica shook her head. This is what she had to look forward to for the next three days—and three nights. The closer it got to the day of her big debut, the longer that seventy-five hours looked. But she’d promised herself she’d see it through. Too many times in her past she’d failed to stick with a plan when the going got tough—hence changing majors three times in college and running through a string of relationships in the past seven years.
But radio was different. This was what she really wanted to do, so she was going to make the best of this opportunity. She’d even rehearsed a few comebacks to put Nick in his place. There had to be more than a few women out there who’d cheer to see a player like Nick get his and she planned to use that to her advantage.
Tomorrow was the big day. The past month had flown by in a rush of activity. She’d recorded teasers with Nick that ran throughout the day on the station, posed for photos for billboards and ads, and met with Mattress Max himself, who’d looked her up and down and announced that plenty of people were sure to stop by to see her in a nightgown.
Great. She studied herself critically in the mirror of the ladies’ room at the KROK studios. Last night, on impulse, she’d added a pink streak to her hair. She’d wanted something different to celebrate her public debut. Too bad the debut had to be in bed with Naughty Nick. “It’s for a good cause,” she reminded herself, and took out a tube of lipstick.
“Hey, Erica.”
Erica looked up from freshening her lipstick and was startled to find Bombshell Bonnie talking to her. Before now, Erica would have bet the weather and traffic reporter didn’t even know her name. “Uh, hi, Bonnie. How are you?”
“Fine and sassy, as always.” She fluffed her blond curls with her fingers and adjusted the straps of the red knit camisole that clung to her curves like a second skin.
“That’s good. I’m fine, too.” Not that you asked. She checked her lipstick in the mirror again.
“Who are you primping for?” Bonnie asked.
“No one.” Unfortunately the rush of blood to her face proved her a liar. Actually she’d been hoping to run into Adam. He came in about this time every morning to tape teasers for his afternoon show, to work on any commercial spots he’d been hired for and to pull any songs he wanted that weren’t in the scheduled rotation. Ever since she’d been picked for the promo gig with Nick she’d made it a point to be waiting for him, to exchange at least a few words. She was still working on convincing him they could be more than friendly co-workers. She’d decided to take a little more care with her appearance, in hopes of waking him up to the fact that she was a reasonably attractive woman who was, after all, only five years younger than him.
“You’re not putting on the glam for Nick, are you?”
Erica was so startled by this suggestion she dropped the tube of lipstick. As she chased it around the sink, she shook her head violently. “Nick! No way. What made you think that?”
“You’re doing that furniture store promo with him tomorrow aren’t you? I thought you might be trying to butter him up so he’d throw some more work your way. Maybe make you a regular part of his show.”
She stared at Bonnie. “But Nick’s show is all about him being a player. Having a female sidekick wouldn’t fit very well with that.” Except for the times when they had to be together to do promo stuff, she’d made it a point to avoid Nick. He’d made a few suggestive comments on his show but then, Nick was always making suggestive comments. It was part of his whole shtick.
