All of Me

by ANDREA SMITH

  The thermometer beeped and I pulled it out and checked the screen for the digital output: 98.6.

  Fuucccckkk!

  I was in deep shit. It was nine o’clock. I had no excuse for not doing my show tonight. It might just be my last one if the sound of Dirk’s voice was any indication as to the depth of his anger.

  I guess I couldn’t blame him, but what the hell? There was no law against a girl earning a living the way Ramona had, right? But I knew that wasn’t the point at all.

  I’d made my bed. Now I guess I had to lie in it.

  Alone.

  Unloved.

  But wasn’t that exactly the rationale that had prevented me from trusting Dirk’s words? I mean, seriously, if he had really meant those words he’d spoken to me, this whole Ramonagate should at the very most be a laughable anecdote. I mean, c’mon! No biggie!

  I jumped in the shower and convinced myself that if Dirk chose to blow the whole thing out of proportion, that was on him. If he wanted to fire me, so be it. Autumn Dey was nobody’s fool. And Dirk Sexton had no business trying to creep into her heart the way that he had.

  I arrived at the station promptly at eleven-fifteen, coming in through the back entrance to avoid the office area just in case Dirk was still lurking about. I hadn’t seen his car parked in the lot, so hopefully he was gone and I had a slight reprieve from having to deal with his drama yet tonight.

  I switched the light on in my sound booth, the producer’s booth was still dark, but Neil generally didn’t make it in until eleven-thirty or so.

  There was a contract sitting on the console, with a post-it note attached. I immediately recognized Dirk’s scrawl on it.

  Autumn,

  Just sign at the “X” on Page 3. Graham accepted the terms. I’ve already signed and Bridget will fax the signed copies over tomorrow morning.

  - Dirk

  Well, it appeared I still had a job. I breathed an audible sigh, grabbed a pen and flipped it to the third page, signing my name next to Dirk’s.

  I wasn’t sure when the whole television spots were set to begin, so I perused through the first couple of pages and saw the date for the first taped commercial was set for next month. Dirk should have cooled off by then... hopefully.

  And then I saw my signing bonus. Holy shit! Ten grand? I had to look at it again. Ten thousand dollars! Not too shabby. Looks like Ramona was officially in retirement.

  Just then the lights flipped on in the producer’s booth and I looked up ready to greet Neil for the night. I’d prepped a theme for tonight’s show: People and their pets. I’d left notes for Neil after the previous night’s show.

  But when I looked up, I saw that it wasn’t Neil taking his place on the other side of the glass window. I felt my jaw drop when I saw Dirk taking a seat in Neil’s producer’s chair, rolling around in the booth, grabbing tapes for station breaks and hitting buttons for the mics.

  I switched my mic on with the button that put my voice into the producer’s booth.

  “Uh... Dirk? What are you doing? Where’s Neil?” my voice sounded hollow and pathetic to me, I could only imagine how it sounded acoustically in the producer’s office.

  Dirk donned the headset, his face devoid of any expression, and pushed the audio button, looking directly at me through the glass window, “I gave Neil the night off. No worries, Autumn, I know all aspects of what needs to be done as a producer, and tonight, well... tonight I’m yours.”

  “I see,” I responded, “Well... um... the notes are there on your console for tonight’s theme for call-ins.”

  “Did you sign the contract?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah, I did. Right here.” I replied, holding it up for him to see.

  “Excellent. Oh, by the way, I did read the notes you left for Neil earlier when I brought the contract down to your booth. I want to scrap the theme, I think I have a better one for tonight.”

  “Oh?”

  This could not be good.

  “Yes,” he continued, a smirk gracing those beautiful lips, “The theme for tonight’s call-in is Deception - Is there ever a good reason for it?”

  “Really?” I replied, now getting my own shade of pissed on. “Would you like to introduce that theme Dirk? Neil often does that at the start of the show.”

  “I’d be happy to Autumn,” he replied. “I’ve already scripted it since this is a last-minute change. I thought it only fair.”

  “You’re the boss,” I replied dryly. “I can work with it.”

  If Dirk Sexton thought he had the monopoly on righteousness, he was in for a rude awakening. I knew my callers. They were regular human beings. Not entitled rich frat boys who were quick to find fault with others before taking inventory of themselves. This just might backfire on him when I considered Roland’s past - and all the lines he’d used over the years to seduce those women into his bed and the trail of broken hearts left in his wake.

  Ramona had listened. And Dirk Sexton just might find that she’d listened well.

  Dirk had everything queued up and gave me the signal to do the opening greeting before he announced tonight’s theme.

  I waited for his signal, and then went live, the background music for Midnight Caller started.

  “Good evening Indianapolis, this is Autumn Dey, the Night Hawk here with you for the next three hours. Tonight, we’ve got a celebrity of sorts filling in for Neil on Midnight Caller. That’s right, our own station owner, Dirk Sexton, joins us for a handpicked topic for all of you calling in. Let me turn it over to Dirk so he can introduce tonight’s theme for discussion.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Dirk

  Remember that book about men and women and Venus and Mars? Well, I never read it but the title was all I needed to know. We were different creatures trying to play the same game.

  Spoiler alert - I don’t like to lose.

  I don’t like to lose my pride. My ego is one of the reasons I do well in business. Without it, I’d be just another loser in an expensive suit and a sobbing bank account.

  I don’t like to lose face. A woman who plays Jekyll and Hyde at the same damn time, has no place in my life.

  I don’t like to lose control. I’m no Tom Petty and Free Falling is not my cup of tea. Thank you very much!

  I don’t like to lose my heart. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have known anything about this but right now I’m certain I don’t like the feeling. It hurts.

  And what do I do when I’m in pain?

  “Thank you, Autumn, and good evening Indy! It has recently come to my attention that relationships aren’t always easy. In fact, they’re a lot of work. It’s a give and take, right? But when does it become only a give, give, give with no room for taking? So, with that thought, I began to wonder. When do we declare that enough is enough? So, tonight’s theme, ladies and gentlemen is: Deception - Is there ever a good reason for it? We’re going to get a commercial in here for you while you get to your phones and let us know about your experiences.”

  Sending the commercials off for the next two minutes, I reveled in Autumn’s discomfort. I was one hundred percent up front with her so her betrayal was eating me up from the inside. I felt I should share the feeling.

  “Are you ready, Autumn? Or should I call you…what was that? Oh, yes. Ramona?”

  Okay, fine. Dick move. Whatever, sue me.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that right?” She hissed, her eyes shooting laser beams of death straight through the partition glass.

  This should be fun.

  Oh, did I mention I was screening the calls? Right.

  Game on.

  “Okay, everyone,” Autumn piped in after commercial break, “I see the lights are out of control on the call-in lines and poor Dirk is barely able to manage you all. You okay back there, Dirk?” Autumn thought she was cute with her little dig, that little smirk dancing across her features was about to be wiped clean by the stroke of my genius.

 
; “Why, yes, Autumn. I’m ready to get this show started. Our first caller is Wayne from Fishers. He’s been deceived a couple of times by his wife and the last one was a doozy.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes, but, like the professional she was, she took the caller with a smile and skip to her voice.

  “Hi there, Wayne. Do you think there’s ever a good reason to deceive your significant other?” her voice was all honey and innocence.

  Yeah, as if.

  “Hey Autumn, thanks for taking my call,” the guy said.

  Guess what, fucker? I took your call. But, sure, carry on.

  “I’m a huge fan of this show. Listen every night while my wife watches her taped episodes of Master Chef.”

  Lovely. Get to the gold, dude.

  “Aww, thank you, Wayne,” Autumn gushed, “So, give it to me. What’s your story?” she asked politely all the while insulting me with her eyes. Could be because I was grinning like the Cheshire cat munching on the canary.

  “So, about three months ago, my wife decided to take dancing lessons. Lost a bunch of weight and started wearing sinner’s clothes.”

  Oh fuck. We have a looney toon on our hands. But…dammit, his story is good.

  “Sinner’s clothes? What does that mean, exactly?” Autumn asked.

  Good question, sweetheart.

  “Oh, you know. Short skirts and them tops where the cleavage isn’t covered up and all.” Autumn shot me a what-the-fuck look but never once lost her rhythm.

  “Right. You mean, normal clothes. Go on, Wayne, we’ve got a lot of calls coming in.”

  “Right, sorry. So, anyway. I only found out because, one day I found a receipt for Straddle My Pole and I immediately thought she was doing some kind of Porno.”

  “Wow. Okay. That was quite the jump but…”

  “Well, ya know…straddle my pole as in straddle my…”

  “Oh yeah, yeah,” Autumn immediately cut him off so as to avoid problems with the Censure Bureau.

  “So,” Wayne continued, getting to the good part, “found out she was pole dancin’ because she wanted to add a little spice to our sex life. At least, that’s what she told me. Turns out, she was literally dancin’ on my neighbor’s pole three nights a week.”

  Busted.

  “Oh my God, Wayne. I’m so sorry. I suppose that’s enough to cut all the ties, right?” Autumn asked, signaling me to cut this short.

  “Oh no. In fact, I forgave her. You see, our sex life has never been better now that she’s gettin’ satisfaction from the both of us.”

  Wait, what the fuck? He hadn’t said anything about that shit. Dammit, Wayne. You traitor.

  “Ah, so, in other words, Wayne, her deception was justified in the end?”

  That little minx.

  “Absolutely,” said the liar, liar, hope his balls catch fire.

  “Thank you, Wayne. Who do we have next, Dirk?”

  “We’ve got Nick from South Bend. He’s got quite the story to tell.”

  “Go ahead, Nick,” Autumn crooned, giving me a smug smile. That smile was about to fade like a memory at an Alzheimer’s reunion.

  As soon as the female voice who definitely was NOT NICK started talking, I knew I was gonna be 0 for 2 in the getting fucked column!

  “Autumn, this is Cassidy. Nick’s my husband. My wonderful, caring husband. The reason he called in for me was because there was no way I ever want to speak to Dirk Roland Sexton again! Does he seriously want to talk about deception or duplicity? Wait until you hear what he pulled on me!

  “I’m all ears, Cassidy.”

  Fuck. My. Life.

  “Well we were in college together. And I, being totally devoted to Dirk, just presumed he felt the same way about me. He was attentive, caring, and we had a standing date every Saturday night. So, Saturday comes around and I’m getting all dolled up when my phone rings a little before seven. It was Dirk, his voice sounded like the mating call of a moose, he sneezed about ten times while trying to tell me he was down with the flu, had a raging temperature, was coughing and gagging trying to explain why he couldn’t make it over. So, of course, I was concerned. I told him I’d be right over with some hot chicken soup and a Vick’s Vapo Rub. He told me not to come over, he was sure he was contagious and told me he’d never forgive himself if he spread his germs to me.”

  “Do tell!” Autumn piped in, “Then what happened?”

  “Well, I told him to get some rest and call me when he was feeling better. He told me he loved me and we’d talk soon. The longer the evening went on, the more worried I was about my poor Dirk. So, I disregarded his concern for my health, and traipsed on over to his apartment with hot chicken soup and Vick’s Vapo Rub. As soon as I went up to his door, I knew something was amiss! Loud music playing, and the sound of a woman’s voice giggling from inside his apartment greeted me. I banged on his door, and when he finally opened it, there he was! Healthy as a horse! And guess who was down to her undies standing right beside his half-dressed ass?”

  “Who?” Autumn asked, genuinely enjoying this overly exaggerated tale from the past. Chicks and their embellishments!

  “My best friend Tonya! Both of them all drunked up and getting ready to bump uglies, that’s who!”

  “NO!” Autumn shrieked, “How utterly duplicitous of them both. You poor thing.”

  At the risk of sounding like Ross in Friends, Cassidy and I were not dating. I sure as fuck never told her I loved her and, to be clear, I was trying to get away from that crazy stalker!

  “So, Cassidy,” Autumn continued, “Whatever did you do then?”

  “I’ll tell you what I did Autumn, I tossed that chicken soup all over the both of them, and then I left and went all Carey Underwood on his little sports car with my key!”

  Never try to spare a psycho’s feelings. Learned my lesson the scalding-chicken-soup-all-over-me way. By the way, that “little sports car” was a vintage ’57 BMW 507. Needless to say, the paint job cost more than Cassidy’s tuition.

  Above all else, the fact that Autumn so easily believed I would cheat on a woman I loved grated on my last nerve.

  “Thanks for sharing with us Cassidy,” Autumn said with faux sympathy I was sure.

  “Thanks for listening, Autumn. Deception isn’t a good thing, but what’s worse is the hypocrisy of Dirk Sexton wanting us listeners to share our sins when he obviously isn’t willing to share his! You have my sincere condolences for having to work for that bas...”

  At least Autumn had cut her off before finishing that last part. I looked over at her and there she was, trying desperately not to laugh. Between the false accusations and then her believing me to be a two-timing bastard, I’d had enough.

  I was going to let it go, be the better man. Breathe in and then breathe out like a yoga guru on crack, but she had to push my last button.

  “Well, looks like your plan is,” she then made a gesture with her hands signaling the blowing up of something, with sound effects of course, and I lost my fucking mind.

  “All right, Miss Righteous. Let’s talk about your side gig, yeah? No. you know what? Let’s talk about how I confided in someone and lo and behold, that someone was you, Ramona!”

  “Hello?” I heard someone say but I was too far gone to put the caller through.

  “I trusted you. I told you I loved you. I promised you my heart and the first chance you got, you broke it like an LP record under a MAC truck!” I was on my feet, behind the partition and if it weren’t for the microphone, she wouldn’t have been able to hear a word I was saying.

  “It’s not my fault you called that first time. Also not my fault I happened to apply for the job here. How was I supposed to know?” she argued vehemently.

  Ignoring her question, another thought popped into my head.

  “How long, Autumn?”

  “Helllllooooo,” the woman needed to take a fucking hint.

  “What?” Autumn asked, frustration evident in he
r entire demeanor.

  “How fucking long?” my voice rising and the FCC was going to come down on me like a hammer to a nail.

  That got her attention and the fact she wasn’t answering told me everything I needed to know.

  “Tell me!” I bellowed.

  I saw her shrink back in her chair. “As soon as I heard your voice at our first meeting,” she finally admitted, her voice barely audible.

  “Is anyone there? Should I hang up?”

  “YES!” Autumn and I both yelled at the caller who would probably change stations and never come back.

  I stood there, silent, watching the emotions play out clear as day on Autumn’s beautiful features, fearing this was the end of us. Wondering how things had gone from perfect to shit in two seconds.

  “Wow. Bet you had some good laughs, huh? You and your sister, maybe? Laughing it up. Poor Dirk, thinks he’s in love. Well, you win, Autumn. I’m done.”

  By this time, half the station was privy to our situation and two sound techs had walked into my booth to take over the commands since clearly, their boss had lost his fucking mind.

  I walked out of the station with no particular destination in mind, knowing only one thing; I couldn’t be near the woman I, incomprehensibly, still loved because my heart couldn’t bear the pain of knowing we were done.

  Thirty-Eight

  Autumn

  And there I was, after Dirk and I had unloaded all of our personal issues over the airwaves, putting dirty laundry out there for half of Indiana to witness.

  Andy Bennett was now in the producer’s booth after Dirk had stormed out, putting a commercial tape in, and, of course, it had to be one of the promos he and I had done for Slather®. As if Dirk Sexton had or would ever need anything to boost his sexual prowess. Hearing his voice, the waterworks cut loose.

  Mike Dillon stepped into my sound booth, from the producer’s booth, his eyes frantic as he saw the stream of tears running down my cheeks and plopping unceremoniously onto the console. “Hey sweetie, why don’t you let me take over while you take a break. I’m worried you’re going to short out the instrumentation panel with those tears,” he said, giving me a weak smile.