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Bonnie narrowed her eyes. “Since when does anything in this business make sense?” She tapped Erica on the shoulder. “Us girls have to stick together. And we do whatever it takes to get ahead, right?”
“Uh, right.” Except that she couldn’t see herself posing for Playboy anytime soon. Or going after Nick Cassidy. Ick!
Bonnie smiled. “That’s right. You just remember that.”
“I will. I better get back to work.” Erica was already late for her chat with Adam.
He was coming up the stairs from the basement as she was descending. Man, he was hot! While most jocks were behind a microphone instead of in front of a camera for a reason, Adam had a rugged, outdoorsy look that was definitely easy on the eyes. “Hi, Adam.” She flashed him her warmest smile.
“Hey, Erica. How’s it going?”
“Great. Everything’s set for my big debut tomorrow.” She wasn’t counting her ill-fated intro of the car dealer ads. That was a last-minute fill-in. This was her real chance to star.
“What’s with the pink?” He gestured toward her hair.
She put one hand to her shoulder-length locks. “Just something fun I did, something different for my debut.”
He nodded. “Looks good. Hey, I saw the new billboards for the furniture store promo,” he said. “That’s a good picture of you.”
“You think so?” She flushed, pleased that he’d noticed. She’d seen the ads for the first time that morning and had almost run off the road. The first ads had referred to her only as Nick’s “mystery woman” but these new spots had her picture as well. There was something disconcerting about seeing her face twenty feet high looming over the roadway.
“Yeah. Too bad Nick’s ugly mug was spoiling the picture.”
She laughed. “Not everyone can be as good-looking as you are,” she teased.
He looked away from her and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I shouldn’t be so harsh on Nick.”
“What’s on the schedule for your show this afternoon?” she asked, anxious to keep the conversation going.
“It’s Friday, so we have the trivia contest.”
Adam was the station’s rock trivia expert. Every Friday listeners had the chance to stump him with questions. Winners earned cool prizes.
“Nickelback’s doing a live performance at two to promote their concert tonight at the Pepsi Center,” he continued. “We’re giving away tickets.”
“Are you going?”
“No, Nick is doing that one. We’ll have the station trailer set up and he’ll be giving away swag before the show, then he’ll take the winners of the drawing for backstage passes to meet the band.”
“He’ll be a bear in the morning, then. He hates those late nights.”
“That’s life in the radio biz.” He glanced her way again. “Maybe you want to rethink your career.”
She shook her head. “No. This is what I really want to do. When I was little, other kids played CDs—I had to put on a whole show, with commercials and everything.”
“I used to do that, too. I’d forgotten all that until now.” His watch beeped and he glanced at it. “I have to go now. It was good talking to you.”
“It’s always good talking to you, Adam.” She tried to put a little extra sultriness into the words, but he’d already turned away and was heading up the stairs, two at a time.
She sighed. Her seductress skills definitely needed work.
On the way to her cubicle, she stopped to talk to her best friend at the station, the production secretary, Tanisha. “How long have you worked here, Tanisha?” she asked.
“Fourteen months, twenty-two days and six hours. But who’s counting? Why?”
“I was just wondering. Do you know if Adam Hawkins has dated anybody since Bonnie?”
“Mr. Handsome Hawk hasn’t dated much of anyone since the Bombshell exploded,” she said. “Of course, with Carl’s rule against the on-air personalities dating, he’d almost have to find a girlfriend outside of work. But I haven’t heard about anyone.” She grinned. “And I make it my business to keep up on all the gossip.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I saw you two talking together just now. That’s more words than I’ve seen him exchange with anyone in months.”
“It took me weeks to get him to say even that much to me.” A man who kept his emotions reined in so tightly must have all kinds of passions bottled up inside, just waiting for the right woman to unleash them.
Of course, she could be all wrong. Maybe Adam was horribly repressed and not the demonstrative type. But she’d love the chance to find out.
“So are you interested in him?” Tanisha asked.
She checked to make sure they were alone, then leaned closer to Tanisha. “Let’s just say I could be.”
“Well good luck. He’s a tough one to figure. I mean, we know he’s not gay, we’re pretty sure he’s available, but why is he available?”
“Maybe Bonnie broke his heart.”
“Hmmph.” Tanisha sniffed. “I was here the day it all went down. He’s the one who tried to break up with her. I don’t think he was all that sad to see the back of her.”
“Then I’d say it was time for a new woman in his life.”
“But how are you going to get around Carl?”
“I’m not on-air talent, remember? This promo thing is just a temporary assignment.”
Tanisha laughed. “You go. Of course, you might have to fight off Naughty Nick first.”
She made a face. “Don’t remind me.”
“I don’t envy you three days in bed with that octopus.”
“I’m thinking about arming myself with Mace and a stun gun. Think that would stop him?”
“Better bring some earplugs, too. I never met a man who liked to talk so much—about himself.”
“Earplugs. Gotcha.” She mentally added these to her list. This was going to be the longest seventy-five hours of her life, but she was going to make the most of the time. By the time it was over she’d have a gig as the station’s newest jock and Naughty Nick would have learned to keep his hands to himself.
BONNIE GLARED at the billboard looming over the Englewood Light Rail Station. Five years she’d been with KROK and her face had never been on a billboard. Little Miss Muffet had worked there a lousy six months and her simpering mug was plastered all over town. Bonnie kicked the curb. So much for thinking seniority counted for anything.
She’d been sure she was on her way when she’d latched onto Adam Hawkins. Not only was the Hawk the best-looking thing to cross the threshold of KROK in years, he was a genuinely nice guy. Which to her meant he was easily manipulated. She’d smiled and flirted and before she knew it, he was following her home. She figured in a matter of weeks she’d be sitting behind a control board, doing the afternoon show with him. A few months after that, she’d find a way to lose him and she’d have a solo gig.
But when she’d suggested she sit in on a few shows with him, he’d turned her down cold. He didn’t want to muddle things by mixing business with pleasure, he’d said.
He didn’t want to share the spotlight with anyone else was the problem. She’d figured she could change his mind, and then he’d had the nerve to dump her. And right before his show, too!
Well, she’d shown him. When it was time to do her traffic report, she’d lit into him. She’d shown the world what a lousy bastard he was.
And then Carl had to come unglued. He’d totally overreacted. He’d even called her unprofessional. And Adam got off scot-free. It figured. Men got all the breaks in this business.
She scowled up at the billboard again. Carl was still holding that little outburst with Adam against her. Otherwise why would he have agreed to let a nobody like that do a major promo? And a sexy one at that? What was sexy about a kid like her? Everybody knew Bombshell Bonnie was, well, a bombshell.
Sometimes Carl could be so dumb. The light rail train pulled into the station and she took a last look at the billboard before climbing onto the car. Everybody at KROK was dumb if they thought she was giving up that easily. She was going to have her own show there sooner or later. All she needed was the right opportunity, and the right person to help her get there.
“IT’S WET and nasty out there tonight. A band of thunderstorms stretching from the eastern plains into the foothills has traffic snarled all over town. Wrecks working at C-470 and Broadway, westbound Six and Sheridan, northbound I-225 and Parker. Slow and go around the Pepsi Center. And we can expect much the same story for the rest of the week.”
Adam inched his Jeep along C-470 toward his home in Morrison, just southwest of Denver. Thank God he hadn’t drawn the Pepsi Center gig. Pulling the station trailer would be a nightmare in this weather.
Three more miles to his exit and it was taking forever to get there. His car stopped again almost directly under a KROK billboard. Erica smiled down on him, posed with Nick in front of an enormous brass bed.
For probably the thousandth time, he wished she didn’t work for the radio station. Why couldn’t she be a schoolteacher or a secretary or an attorney or anything but a co-worker? If he didn’t have to work with her, he might risk asking her out. Yeah, the age thing made him feel like a dirty old man, but he’d risk it to find out if she was as hot in real life as she was in his fantasies.
But she did work for KROK, so no dice. Maybe she didn’t technically fall under Carl’s rule, but Adam had learned the hard way to keep his work life and his personal life separate. There was too much potential for major damage if they mingled. He’d caught himself rationalizing why this time would be different, but he’d resolutely shoved the thoughts away. He wasn’t going to make the mistake of thinking with his cock, the way he had with Bonnie.
Of course, Erica was young. She hadn’t screwed up her life the way he had. More than once lately he’d sensed that she was doing her best to let him know she was interested in him. He was flattered, and he’d thought about trying to explain what had happened with Bonnie, and how close he’d come to losing his job after their big bust-up. How he couldn’t afford to mess up again. He wanted her to understand he wasn’t rejecting her, just trying to keep them both out of trouble.
But he’d never found the right words to say all that. He always got too caught up in listening to her, in watching the way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something, and enjoying the way he felt when she smiled at him.
And now for the next three days she’d be sharing that bed with Nick. Of course, they wouldn’t be doing anything. For one thing, even at night there were security guards and cameras everywhere. But still, the thought was unsettling.
He supposed he could hope for a flood to wash out the Furniture Gallery and make the whole bed-in thing impossible. The way the skies had opened up, it was a remote possibility.
“Naughty Nick here, reminding you that starting tomorrow, I’ll be broadcasting live from the showroom of Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery, Wadsworth and East Six. Stop by and see me and my lovely sidekick, Erica, as we begin our seventy-five hour bed-in to raise money for the Salvation Army’s new homeless shelter. Bring your donation by in person. And give me your ideas for what you’d do if you had seventy-five hours to spend in bed with a good-looking co-worker.”
He punched off the radio and glared up at the billboard again. It was going to be a very long three days.
RED FLANNEL pajamas with cartoon puppy dogs all over them—check. Red fuzzy slippers—check. Teddy bear—check. Sleep mask—check. Earplugs—check. Toiletries, throat lozenges, water bottle, makeup, clean underwear—check. Civilian clothes to wear home—check. Erica zipped the duffel and dragged it toward her car. She had twenty minutes to make it to Mattress Max’s, ten minutes to change once she got there and no time at all to calm down and convince herself that she was, absolutely, doing the right thing.
At least there was no traffic this time of morning, and the rain had stopped for a while. She raced her neon-green Volkswagen up the entrance ramp to Interstate 70 and headed toward the Furniture Gallery. She hadn’t slept much the night before, having been tortured by doubt and by erotic dreams starring Adam. Too bad he wasn’t her partner in this crazy promo. She’d have definitely found something sexier to wear for him, and would have done her best to make sure she didn’t have to wear it very long once the lights went out.
Though the surrounding businesses were dark, Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery was lit up like a fair-grounds. She spotted the KROK production van near the front door. Mason, a production tech, waved at her as she drove past and parked the VW around back. Then she grabbed her bag and raced toward the private rest room that had been set aside for her and Nick to share. It was Mattress Max’s executive washroom, complete with shower. Fortunately Max himself wasn’t there this time of morning, so she didn’t have to deal with him.
Nick was nowhere in sight, either. She changed into the flannel pjs, already rehearsing the speech she’d prepared for Carl, who was sure to complain. Her angle was that showing less skin was actually more enticing, because it left things to the imagination. Plus, she’d noticed before that the furniture showroom tended to be cold. He wouldn’t want her getting sick, would he?
She didn’t really expect him to buy it, but she had to try. She would compromise with a KROK T-shirt and boxers, but she drew the line at Victoria’s Secret or Fredericks’s.
Carl had explained everything to her multiple times—the remote mini-transmitter on the truck would send the signal to the transmitter at the studio for broadcast. A board op there would run the production board during the morning show, with the regular staff taking over at nine o’clock. The main thing she and Nick had to do was listen for their on-air cues.
The production crew had been busy, setting up the mics and other equipment around the bed. It was some bed, too—a king-size brass number with a fake mink spread and blue satin sheets. Half a dozen of the fluffiest pillows she’d ever laid eyes on were piled at the head, and twin black lacquer nightstands were already stocked with water, tissues and matching brass lamps.
“Erica! There you are.” Carl spotted her and hurried over. He frowned at the pajamas. “Puppy dogs? You couldn’t come up with anything better than that?”
“I didn’t want to be cold.” She hugged her arms over her chest.
He shook his head. “That’s the least of my worries right now. Here, you go ahead and get into bed.” He escorted her to her home away from home for the next three days. “We’ll get started in a minute here.”
“Sound checks out okay, Carl.”
The familiar voice sent a warm tingle through her and she froze in the act of climbing into bed and stared at the man who’d appeared on the other side. “Adam? What are you doing here?”
“Morning, Erica.” He cut his eyes to the station manager. “Didn’t Carl tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Carl coughed. “Nick was in a car accident on the way home from the Pepsi Center last night. He’s going to be all right, but he’ll be out of commission for a while, so Adam is filling in.”
She turned to Adam again. For the first time she noticed that below the KROK T-shirt, he was wearing blue plaid pajama bottoms. A warm glow settled over her and she couldn’t hold back a smile. “That’s great! I mean, that’s really nice of you.”
“In the bed, both of you,” Carl said. “We’re almost ready to go live.”
They each turned back the covers and settled awkwardly on either side of the bed, careful not to touch. “You ready?” Adam asked.
She took a deep breath, immediately aware of the scent of his aftershave and the underlying aroma of him. Her stomach fluttered. “I guess so.” No way was she going to screw up this time. “Are you?”
Worry lines fanned out from his eyes, but he nodded. “I guess so. It’s been a while, but I think I remember how.”
She gasped. Wow, get the man in bed and he turned into a completely different person. “It’s been a while?”
“Yeah, I used to do a morning show in Carmel, but that was years ago. I hope my mouth still works in the morning.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m sure it will.” She pulled the covers up a little more, hoping he’d been too busy setting up the equipment to notice her grinning. It was all she could do not to pump her fist and shout out “Yes!” She couldn’t believe she was here. In bed. With Adam Hawkins.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he settled his earphones into place and adjusted the microphone. What had Bonnie said about taking advantage of every opportunity? Well here was a golden one to let Adam know exactly what she thought of him.
A lot could happen in three days, couldn’t it?
3
“THIS IS THE HAWK coming to you live from a king-size bed in the middle of Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery.” Adam tried to get comfortable in the big bed, despite the distraction of the woman beside him. He nodded to her, her cue to get ready for her morning show debut. “With me is the ever-effervescent Erica.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Erica smiled into the mic, living up to the nickname he’d just saddled her with. Did she always look this good at a little after six in the morning? And since when had flannel been so sexy?
“We know you were expecting Naughty Nick,” she continued. “But unfortunately, he couldn’t be with us this morning.”
“Just as well,” Adam said. “I’m not into threesomes myself.” Aaargh. Where had that come from? This was not the time for sexual wordplay. “Seriously, folks, Nick was injured last night in a traffic accident on the way home from the Pepsi Center concert. The last report we had he’d just come out of surgery and was doing well. We wish him a speedy recovery.”
“That’s right, Nick. Get well soon.” Erica’s eyes lit with mischief. “Meanwhile, I’m going to do my best to make do with the Hawk here.”
“Make do? Woman, that is harsh. I’m wounded.” Was she really disappointed to be spending the next three days with him instead of Nick?
She laughed and sat cross-legged in the bed, her knee brushing his. “I don’t know. Are you really an early-morning kind of guy?”
