by Alex Grayson
"May I come watch?" Mr. Right asked.
"Sure, but who are you?"
Mr. Lennox went beat red and forced a smile that was probably meant to intimidate or chastise me. "Greyson Right, Right Media group, he is the new station owner. I'll be in my office." Mr. Lennox walked off totally exasperated.
"First thing on my list, find a new station manager," Mr. Right whispered. I chuckled. "Don't say anything."
"Mr. Right--"
"Greyson, call me Greyson."
"Greyson, I'm schooled at confidentiality."
I moved back to my seat, slipped on the headphones, and took the next caller. "This is Juliet, and today on Dear Juliet we are talking about the great search."
"Oh my god, Juliet, I finally reached you. I just love you."
"Thank you. Who am I speaking with?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Allie."
"What can I help you with today, Allie?"
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"Love is something we feel. Just as hot and cold are things we feel. So, is it possible to feel something immediately? So my answer to you is, I absolutely believe in love at first sight. But there are different types of love, let me give you a little more, and that is the kind of love you build a marriage on. That love isn't the feeling, that love comes from knowledge, trust, and belief in the other person..."
I glanced over at Greyson, who was watching me, his eyes followed every gesture that I made. I returned my focus to Allie.
"But what about sex, when sex is on point doesn't that play a big part in your decision?" Allie asked.
Suddenly my sound studio felt small, like teeny tiny, and all I wanted to do was get out. Or kick Greyson out because, oh my God I needed to be the professional and answer this. I dared to look over at him and the man was smiling...no not smiling, smirking, yeah, he was smirking--the asshole. "I think sex is vital in any healthy relationship but if sex is all you have then that isn't a marriage that is a booty-call. You need to build on more than sex. I'm not saying that sex isn't a starting point, I know a lot of relationships that built off a one-night stand. But try talking, find out who the other person is inside, what are their hopes and dreams, their fantasies."
"Okay, thank you, Juliet."
I disconnected and put another song on.
"Are these your typical types of calls?" Greyson asked.
"They are half of my calls, the other half are more counseling type calls, a new widow, struggling marriage after infidelity, trying to survive being single after being married for thirty years, that is just to name a few." I paused for several seconds.
"You can say it, whatever is on your mind."
"I could reach so many more people, if only my schedule changed just a little, where I am now, I don't even get any drivers sitting in traffic on their drive into work or on their way home. Heck, I would take being moved to the late evenings so that I was on after people put their kids to bed. As it stands, I reach women who are at home during the day." I held up one finger and took a few more calls before I was able to take another break. "So, owner," I said, sliding my headphones off. "I've been here for six years and can't say that I've ever met the previous owner."
"I tend to be more hands-on. But, then again, I only buy companies that are local so I can be hands-on."
I squirmed a little in my chair at the mere innuendo of being hands-on. Why did this man have to be so damn sexy? I thought about my advice to Allie, one-night stand, I could do a one-night stand with him.
"Going back to what you were saying about your time slot, I'd like to expand your show, you're in a really shitty time spot." The pressure that had been building on my shoulders seemed to ebb, and I let out a sigh of relief. "My research shows that help channels find the most success on the weekend and the evenings eight to one time slot. It may sound horrid but that is when people are sitting down and coming to the realization that they are alone. If you wanted to expand your show outside of just relationships, I would wholeheartedly support you. What do you think?"
"I'm willing to try anything. What days?"
"Well, you would be Thursday through Sunday."
I thought about it and got worried. "That's only four days."
"Anyone who works weekends in my company always gets that extra perk. It is hard giving up weekends, I know."
I thought about it for a second, giving up my weekends could I do it? Yes, I wasn't going into work until late anyway, so I still had the majority of my day. "If the occasional event came up that I needed a weekend day off are you opposed to me prerecording?"
"Not at all as long as it doesn't become a habit. And as far as pay, your pay will reflect the fact you are a doctor," Greyson said.
That was something I could get behind. A red light above Greyson's head caught my attention, so I leaned forward and put one finger on his lips then signaled to the red light on the wall. He shut up, but he also grabbed my hand and kissed it.
That simple gesture set my world on its side and made my panties go wet. The man was so fucking hot.
"What's going on?" he whispered.
"The knob jockey likes to eavesdrop," I whispered.
"Knob jockey?" He busted out laughing totally blowing our attempt at keeping quiet.
I turned back to the microphone, pulled my headset back on and punched a blinking button. I needed to think about this.
"Thanks for calling into Dear Juliet. Who am I speaking with?" I waited for the other person to answer, and then got doing what I did best, giving advice.
I looked up at the sound of shuffling noises and caught sight of Mr. Right's back as he exited my studio. I wondered if I would see him again or if he'd be here tomorrow. He said he was hands-on...I shivered at those words.
2
Juliet
"Motherfucker," I hissed and then quickly looked around to make sure no one heard me. My mother's words from her all too-proper upbringing were strong in my ear. "Ladies don't cuss. They are intelligent enough to use proper words." Oh, what would my momma think if she saw me now? A radio relationship host who frequently talked about sex.
I glanced up at the understated sign that read WKPP and then ran up the short flight of concrete stairs to the dark tinted glass door. Before pulling it open, I tried to catch my reflection and fix my appearance. I looked like someone had soaked a towel into a vat of hot water then wound it up and whipped it out at me. My clothes were drenched, wrinkled from my sweat, and my hair was flat and frizzled. Not sure why I was surprised, this was Florida, after all. But I had spent a little extra time getting ready today. Normally I could wear whatever I wanted and although I never left the house without makeup, I usually wore jeans. But today, I decided to amp it up and wear a pencil skirt.
I pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside. I waited several seconds as my eyes acclimated to the change in lighting and then smiled at the security officer sitting at the desk behind a bank of monitors.
"Hello, Miss Juliet."
"Hey, Frank." I waved, scanned my badge and then headed toward the elevator. Just before the doors closed an arm slid in and the doors reopened to allow him to enter. I knew who the arm belonged to just by the Tag Heuer watch and the scent of bergamot. I took a deep breath of the expensive cologne, no Polo or Old Spice for this man. God, was there anything better than the smell of fresh, clean man and good cologne?
"Hello, Juliet."
"Hello, Mr. Right."
"Greyson, call me Greyson."
The elevator opened, and we both stepped out, instantly a woman was in front of us. She held a small stack of file folders and was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes held out one hand. I was way overdressed.
"Juliet, I'd like you to meet my assistant, Madeline."
"Hi, Madeline." I instantly liked her. She had a nice firm handshake.
"It's nice to meet you, Juliet, I'd like to go over the schedule with you when you get a moment." Madeline was all business.
"Schedule
? We're changing now?"
"Seriously, Grey? How much did you tell them? For fuck's sake." She rolled her eyes and flipped him off, but when she saw my wide-eyed look of confusion, she laughed. "Sorry, he's been that way since kindergarten. The guy just expects us all to know what is going on in his head." Her eye roll was more conspiratorial this time, and I nodded. Not having a freaking clue what was going on.
Greyson, to his credit, just raised one inquisitive brow. Something in my belly turned at their interaction. I didn't like the feeling, I couldn't remember ever having this feeling. I wanted him to be relaxed around me. I wanted to be able to tease him. But then I wondered if maybe they were a couple.
"You have time now?" Madeline asked.
"Sure," I offered.
"Leave us, Grey," Madeline ordered. Madeline wrapped an arm around mine and led me off toward my sound studio, but it wasn't my studio we went to. "Sorry about that. Greyson called me last night and said that he explained to you what he wanted about a schedule change."
"He did but he didn't say when we were starting."
"Effective immediately. Mr. Lennox is gone. Today as people come in, they will find their new schedules."
"Why are we here?" I asked. "This isn't my studio."
"Yes, it is, this is where he wants you from now on. All of your stuff, your soundtracks, clips, everything has already been moved over."
"I'm here too early if I'm not going on until eight."
"He would like you to go through some of your old calls and pick out some of your favorites, create the best of Juliet collection, enough to fill a week just in case you were ever to get sick."
"Okay, I can do that."
"Let me know if you need anything else, okay," Madeline said as she headed for my door.
"Will do," I assured her before she left. I then turned my back to the door, settled into the oversized leather chair behind the soundboard. I twirled in the seat, the room was so much larger than my old studio. I spun around again and this time my eyes caught on something or rather someone...Mr. Greyson Right. From where I sat, I could see into his office when his blinds were open which also meant he could see me.
I scrolled through the computer to my list of some of my favorite callers of all time. I pressed play and listened to Philip's plight.
"Hi, Philip, what question do you want to ask me?" I smiled, my voice sounded so young and fresh, the recording was from about five years ago.
Before Philip could ask his question, my door opened and in walked Greyson. I reached forward to pause.
"Don't, I came in to listen for a bit before I had to leave for a meeting."
I nodded and then looked down, I could feel my face warm, I remembered this question, it took some tugging before Philip finally came out with it.
"Philip, I can't help you unless you tell me what the problem is." I desperately wanted to put headphones on and tune Greyson out.
"Well...well, my girlfriend and I have different ideas of love marks."
"Marks?" I had questioned.
"Yeah, marks. She told me that she wanted me to leave marks on her body. I thought she meant hickeys, you know. Love bites?"
"Yeah, I know what hickeys are." I glanced over at Greyson who was totally enthralled.
"But she was thinking whips and chains. I can't beat her. I'm not taking a whip to no woman."
Even through the years, I could still hear myself fight to maintain my professionalism. "Philip, your girlfriend is either exploring a kink or knows that this is what she likes. A kink is not bad, but it is not one size fits all. If this is more than just experimenting and she knows that this is what she needs then she can't just un-need it, it is part of who she is, it is her sexual self. If you know that this isn't your kink then as much as I hate to say it, it is best that you know it now than later after you've invested years into a marriage and led a sexually unsatisfied life. Sit down and have a talk, but be warned, the best answer may be to go your own separate ways."
I glanced over at Greyson, "Whoa, that was a heavy call."
"Yep, we get all kinds."
"I'll let you continue. See you tomorrow."
"Aye aye." I saluted and he left. I couldn't keep from admiring his ass and how good he looked in his jeans.
3
Greyson
I studied the amber liquid in my glass and shifted in my seat as I focused on the woman's voice coming through the radio. What would she look like basking in my whiskey? I had never done body shots, but I could drink Macallan off her as it pooled into her curves and my tongue trailed the running liquor.
"Hello Orlando, this is Dear Juliet and I'm Dr. Juliet Loveheart. I want to talk to you about your love life, what confuses you, what questions do you have, what do you want to know but don't know who to ask? That's why I'm here and I'll be here every Thursday through Sunday for you to call in. Let's take our first caller."
"You've reached Dear Juliet."
"Hi, Juliet, this is Stacy--" And this was why there was always a few seconds delay in broadcasting, Stacy had just given her full name. The last thing we wanted was for some psycho to get her last name.
"Hi, Stacy, what can I help you with tonight?" I shifted in my chair, Juliet's voice was like butter in a hot pan.
"I want my boyfriend to talk to me during sex, you know, say something besides moans?"
"I totally understand, Stacy." I rubbed the scruff on my chin, so, Juliet liked a little dirty talk. "Most women and men for that matter love having their partner speak erotic words during intercourse. It is fuel for the fire, so to speak."
"Exactly," Stacy concurred.
"But in all reality, not many people can actually speak while building to an orgasm. An orgasm takes a lot of concentration." I was stunned by how comfortable Juliet was at speaking about sex issues to a perfect stranger let alone knowing that what she said was being transmitted to millions of listeners. "When building for that epic release, being able to focus on something that can be halfway interpreted as words is near impossible. So, take a moan for what it is. It's your partner's way of conjuring up sounds to tell you that he likes what you are doing."
I hadn't realized it but listening to her sultry voice speak of something so erotic had turned me on. I rubbed one hand down the front of my jeans and tried to adjust myself. I was hard as a rock, all from a stupid radio talk show.
The clocked ticked on and Juliet continued taking calls, some were pitiful, like a jilted lovers trying to figure out what he had done wrong or a single mom wondering if she will ever find someone to love her son as much as his real father was supposed to. Then there were the funny ones, the woman who caught her fiancé cheating and was trying to figure out the best way to let him know that he was busted.
I palmed my phone, tossed it back and forth from one hand to the other. As if on autopilot, I opened my setting and turned on, block phone number. Then I dialed the station, it was after midnight and Juliet had begun taking less phone calls and playing more songs.
I wasn't sure what had come over me or why I had done it, but I couldn't stop myself if my life depended on it. I turned my radio down, and waited for her sound manager to pick up.
"You've reached the Dear Juliet Show, do you have a question for Juliet?"
"I do."
"What's your question?" I wasn't prepared to talk to someone else but here goes. "I wanted to know what her fantasy was. She gives advice to everyone else, but what's her fantasy?"
"What's your name?"
I stumbled for a second then quickly gave my middle name. "Michael."
"Okay, Michael, I'll let you ask Juliet."
"You've reached Dear Juliet, who do I have on the line?"
"Michael."
"Okay, Michael, what would you like to ask?"
"What's your fantasy? You listen to everyone else's, what's yours?"
Juliet let out a soft chuckle. "Are you a psychologist too?"
I took a sip of whiskey and let it roll over my tongue befor
e answering, "No, just a curious man."
Her voice sounded weary. "My fantasy, to come home, have dinner on the table, a Golden Retriever wagging her tail, and the two point four kids with a white picket fence."
"No, that's your dream, what's your fantasy?" I asked again. The sound on the other end clicked and the sound manager came on.
"Michael, can you hold for a second? Juliet wants to talk to you off air."
"Sure." He pressed a button and then I could hear Juliet talking, her radio show was continuing on.
"It looks like we lost Michael. In the meantime, here's some rhythm for your soul." There were clicks and then the music went off and Juliet's voice came through the line. "Michael, are you there?"
"I'm here."
"Sorry, that's not an appropriate question for on-air." She informed me.
"I get that. Okay, let's try this one, I want to know what your idea of a perfect evening is?"
"That's easy. I'd come home after a long day of work and find my man waiting for me--the same man, every night, for the rest of my life. We would curl up together, sometimes we'd watch television, sometimes we would read, or sometimes just cuddle up and talk while we catch up. But it is more about being together."
For some reason, I could see her fantasy, so I decided to add to it. "Then I would lean over, cup your face, then bring your lips to mine."
"I like that." Her voice had a small catch in it.
"What else?" My voice was a bit deeper.
"He'd lift me up and carry me to the bedroom."
"Because you're a tiny thing." The moment I said it, I was worried I might have said too much. I wasn't supposed to know her or know that she was indeed tiny.
"Yeah." She paused. "When he set me down, he would move to stand behind me and trail his fingers along my skin. His gentle touch would set my skin on fire. It would be more arousing than any words."
"Don't be so sure about that." I took a deep breath. "What about when I tell you about the way you feel in my arms? Or how I crave to taste you?"
"Oh." Her words had a tiny catch in them.