Morning Man

by Barbara Kellyn

  Just then, Jared charged into the studio. “Have you been online this morning?”

  She pushed her headphones all the way down to her neck. “What’s going on?”

  “The Rumormill,” he said, stumbling sheepishly. “They’ve got a new story up about you and Mr. Collins. I thought someone oughta tell you.”

  “Hell no, we don’t want to comment!” Tack furiously slammed the phone down.

  “I think someone just did.” She gulped. “Who was that?”

  “A reporter at the Dispatch,” he grumbled, already typing into the computer. “They’ve picked up some story about us from that fucking gossip blog.” His eyes quickly scanned the screen as his expression went from seething to livid. “CJ, that little fucker!”

  Dayna jumped up and ran to the other side of the board. She leaned on Tack’s shoulder and read the headline: Hot Country Babe’s Price of Love: $12,000. She gripped the edge of the console, preparing to support her weight in case her legs gave out.

  If you’ve been pondering who’s been keeping Hot Country 103’s Dayna Cook up at night, we’ll start by telling you who isn’t.

  A reliable source tells The Rumormill that station boss Bonnie McMulland offered Cook a hefty wad for not succumbing to the seductive charms of co-host Tack Collins, the notorious lothario who’s racked up more belt notches than Wild Bill Hickok. Seems that it’s chaste or be chased for 103’s hayseed honey, who reportedly agreed to keep Collins at bay and safeguard the sexual tension driving their ratings–for a whopping 12Gs.

  “Call it incentive, call it insurance, but for Godssake, let’s just call it for what it is–a mean-spirited cockblocking tactic,” said our source, speaking on condition of anonymity. “Going along with this perverse treaty makes Dayna Cook a tease of the worst kind. After all, isn’t snubbing sex for money just reverse prostitution?”

  The station boss’s imposed duty on gettin’ booty has not only put a crimp in Collins’ wolfen ways but is likely also pinching Cook, whose own sexcapades with radio jocks are said to long precede her current stint in Columbus. The source revealed that among Cook’s “numerous” broadcast bedfellows is CJ Maroni, drive-home announcer at Mix 96, with whom she shares a home in Holly Hill.

  “Oh God,” she said, fighting to breathe in the spinning room. Her limbs felt like they were encased in concrete and then suddenly, everything went very blurry.

  Tack leaped up. “Sit down, sit down,” he said, helping her fall into his high-back chair. “Kid, go get her some water. Quick!”

  “I’m never going to be able to show my face in public. I’m never going to be able to speak on the air again,” she muttered. This is like that dream where you walk down the street and everyone stares because you’re buck naked. Only this time, it’s not a dream. “I’m ruined. My career, my reputation. Everything. I’m toast.”

  Tack queued up a song to prevent dead air, then crouched down to console her. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s nothing but a stupid blog, no one even reads that damn thing.”

  She slumped forward. “That reporter obviously reads it. Now it’s going to be in tomorrow’s paper and then everyone in the whole city is going to know.”

  Jared charged through the door with a glass of water and Bonnie in tow. “I just heard the news. What can I do?” she asked.

  “Do we have any legal recourse?” Tack asked. “Can we get a lawyer to make them pull the story right away?”

  Dayna buried her face in her hands. “On what grounds? It’s all true.”

  Bonnie gave her the water and an empathetic pat on the shoulder. “I feel terribly responsible,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this ever got out.”

  “I do,” Tack croaked. “A couple of weeks ago, CJ overheard a private conversation between me and Liz. I swear, I didn’t realize he was right behind me.”

  “I knew he found out because he’s already thrown it in my face. I just never thought…” Dayna stopped to release a shudder. “I never thought that he’d actually stoop to something this cruel.”

  Jared coughed. “Um, I don’t mean to upset anyone more than they already are, but I also heard a rumor about your deal with Mrs. M. It’s all over the station.”

  Red-faced with rage, Tack glared at Bonnie. “Get the story taken down and pull some strings at the Dispatch to kill this thing before it snowballs any bigger.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that right away,” she said. “And Dayna, dear, in the meantime, why don’t you take a couple days off until this all blows over?”

  “It’s going to take a lot longer than a couple of days to make this blow over,” she sniffled, her eye fiercely twitching. “My name is now linked with the word ‘prostitution’ in the minds of everyone reading that blog. Even you won’t be able to erase that.”

  Bonnie turned to Jared. “You know how to work this board?”

  He nodded.

  “Can you finish the music set until Dub arrives?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

  “Okay, you two,” she said calmly. “Come with me and we’ll get this sorted out.”

  * * * *

  Bonnie sat in her office chair. “Listen, I can admit when I’ve made a mistake and I know I’ve made a big one here,” she said. “In principle, it may have been a prudent idea to keep things hot and spicy on the air these past weeks but I didn’t factor in any kind of fallout there might be.”

  Dayna blinked. “You got your ratings, didn’t you?”

  “In spades,” she said. “But I’m talking about the toll this has taken on you.”

  “You had to know this would be difficult for us.”

  “And I commend you for seeing things through as promised. Uh, you two have seen things through?”

  “What more do you want, Bonnie? You want me to climb into your gynecologist’s stirrups right now to prove we haven’t done it?”

  Her face fell. “Watch your tone, please.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m upset.”

  “I understand that.”

  “I should’ve never agreed to this deal.” Dayna looked over at Tack. “We should have never let this taint what we had together. But it did and I’m so sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I haven’t been making things easy.”

  Bonnie cleared her throat. “For all intents and purposes, let’s just call the whole thing off, okay?”

  “No, we can’t do that either,” she said. “Tack and I have made it this far and we need to see this through. That money you promised is going to an important cause.”

  “Well, that’s very noble. But I was going to suggest paying you out for your trouble right now, if…”

  “If?”

  Bonnie opened up her desk drawer and pulled out a legal document. “If you’ll both sign a contract stipulating that you’ll agree to continue Wake Up with Tack and Dayna for three more years.”

  Great. First bribery, now extortion.

  He shook his head. “Sorry, boss, no can do. You know I don’t work with contracts.”

  Dayna smirked. “No, you wouldn’t, would you? Because that would force you to stay in one place longer than absolutely necessary.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I wish I knew what’s gotten into you today. What’s up?”

  “Oh, you know what’s up. You just don’t have the stones to tell me to my face.”

  Bonnie stood up behind the desk. “I’m going to call the publisher of the Dispatch and give you two a few moments to work this out,” she said, excusing herself.

  Neither Tack nor Dayna breathed a word until the door shut securely.

  He leaned over the chair’s arm. “Would you mind telling me what this is about?”

  “I know your little secret.”

  “Secret?”

  “You know, the one you weren’t planning to reveal until after we had sex?”

  “Which one do you mean? The one about my wife and eleven kids or the one about my secret S and M dungeon?”

  �
��How about the one happening in Texas on the first of October.”

  “Texas?” He shrugged. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “I’m not one of your weekend trollops, Tack. I can see right through your act.”

  He raised his palm. “Hand to God, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That phone call you got last night.”

  “Yeah, what about it?”

  She squinted hard. “Who was it from?”

  “I wasn’t ready to tell you yet, but if you really must know, a real estate agent returned my message.”

  She folded her arms and shook her head. “I knew it. I knew it all along.”

  “You know, Dayna, I really wish I was a Goddamn mind reader, but I’m not. Can you please enlighten me as to what’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “You’re leaving.”

  He blinked. “I am?”

  “I read the message beside the phone. Galveston, October first? You’ve got another gig lined up and didn’t want me finding out until after you got into my pants.”

  He laughed. Then he laughed some more.

  “Fuck you,” she growled.

  “Is that what you’ve been all hot and bothered about this morning?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Sugar, why didn’t you just tell me? We could’ve cleared this whole thing up hours ago.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped through until he found the business card and handed it to her. “Trish Galveston–Gal-ves-ton–is the realtor who called. I inquired about some property up for sale at the reservoir.”

  She blinked. “Oh.”

  “See? I’m not going to Texas, or anywhere else.”

  “Maybe not this time, but it won’t be long before you do leave. You said yourself you wanted to get out of Columbus because you had an expiration date, remember?”

  “Yeah, I did say that. Weeks ago. And since then, something has changed. You. You’ve changed me.”

  “No,” she said. “A radio guy never changes. Once a gypsy, always a gypsy.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you. If I happen to get a call from Galveston, or anywhere else for that matter, you’re not only the first person I would tell, you’re the one I’d want to take with me.”

  She looked at him. “You know it’s funny, but CJ said that very thing to me a few months before he moved here. Look how that turned out.”

  “I’m not sure how many ways I need to prove it to you, baby, but I’m not CJ.”

  “I’m tired of chasing after someone who won’t stand still.” Her voice quivered. “I swore I wasn’t ever going to do it again.”

  “I’m telling you right now, you don’t have to chase me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “And I’m not going to put my life on hold waiting to see if you ever will, either.”

  His heart plummeted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I need a chance to be by myself for a while,” she said, sniffing back tears. “The PD up at Big Country Q-Ninety-two in Calgary needs someone to co-host their morning show.”

  “Calgary? Are you serious?” She couldn’t possibly mean it. Dayna certainly had a flair for the dramatic, but this was unreal. “You can’t just up and leave for Calgary.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be easy for Bonnie to find a replacement to fill my pajama top. She’s probably got a stack of applic–”

  “Cut it out,” he demanded.

  “As for the spot I left in your bed this morning, I have no doubt you’ll find someone to fill that vacancy by Saturday night.”

  The adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream and pounded in his ears. “I mean it, Dayna. Stop talking like this.”

  Her chin quivered. “If it hurts this much already, what’s going to happen in a couple of weeks? In a few months? What if we actually stake a whole year or two in each other before it all falls apart?” She began to sob. “I have to go now before things between us get any deeper.”

  “I’m already in deep here. I love you,” he said, pleading. “You can’t leave me.”

  “I can’t stay, either.” She shook her head. “Everyone in this stupid town knows about us and that humiliating pact. I’ll never be able to look anyone in the eye.”

  “Running away is not going to solve anything.”

  “I’m not running away.”

  Bonnie’s knock interrupted them. “Everything okay in here?”

  Dayna stood up, still crying. “No.”

  “Oh, dear, what’s the matter?”

  “I can’t sign the contract either, Bonnie. I’m sorry. I appreciate everything you’ve done in giving me this opportunity. I realize I haven’t even been here long enough to finish out my probationary period but–”

  Her eyes widened. “Dayna, no.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to need some time off. I’m going out of town and when I get back, I’ll likely be giving you my notice.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “Well, I won’t accept it under these circumstances. You’ve had a very emotional morning and you’re making an irrational decision under duress. Take a little time off, then come back next week when you’re thinking clearer.”

  “No, I’ll be gone for at least a couple of weeks, maybe more depending on how things go,” she said. “There’s an opening at a station in Calgary that I want to explore. Call Bucky Dawson and ask him yourself.”

  Bonnie’s glare zeroed in on Tack. “What have you done?”

  Feeling like he’d just been hit by a bus, he sat speechless, trying to process what was happening.

  “Don’t blame him, it’s not his fault. This is something I need to do for myself.” She stood up. “I’m sorry that I’ve let you down, but this is probably for the best.”

  Tack followed her to the door, desperately grabbing her by the wrist. “You can’t just suddenly announce you’re leaving and expect me to–”

  “Please, don’t make this any harder on me than it already is.” She flung open the door and walked out into the hallway.

  “Dayna!”

  She stopped and turned to him.

  He met her where she stood and cupped her precious face in his hands, deep pain searing in her eyes. “Don’t do this to us. We are so good together.” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “And we’re just getting to the really good stuff.”

  “I know.” She laughed softly. “I’m glad I don’t know what I’ll be been missing.”

  “I already do.” He held her so tight he thought they both might break into pieces. “Promise me this is only a temporary thing.”

  “I can’t promise anything, cowboy, including when or even if I’ll be back,” she whimpered, her tears soaking through his shirt. “This just might be the spot where we need to take two different roads. I don’t want you waiting for me.”

  “No. I’m not going to say goodbye.” He slowly pulled back from their embrace and took off his Saint Christopher medallion, putting it around her neck. “Until you return, take this with you. For safe travels.”

  “Tack, I can’t,” she said, holding the silver disk in her fingers. “This is yours.”

  “So are you,” he said, pressing his lips against her forehead.

  She hugged him tight, burying her head against his shoulder again.

  “Go out there and do whatever it is you need to do, sugar,” he whispered. “And whenever you’re ready, you come back to me.”

  Then he kissed her like he was kissing her for the very last time, and let her go.

  Chapter 16

  Dayna called Bucky Dawson from the cab. It wasn’t quite nine AM in Calgary, but he was in the office and pleased to hear that she’d scheduled “vacation time” to try out for the morning show. Minutes later, his assistant had secured a seat for Dayna on the next non-stop Air Canada flight from Columbus to Cowtown.

  The front door slammed with brute force as she hollered for CJ, hoping it would be a rude awakening. “Get your ass
out of bed!” She threw her suitcase on the couch and began cramming it with as much clothes as the seams and a sticky zipper would allow. She heard one loud stomp upstairs, followed by clomping across the floor.

  He stumbled half way down the stairs in his t-shirt and boxers. “What the hell are you doing home this early?”

  She tore open the closet door and unloaded an armful of drycleaner-wrapped outfits that Ohio had never gotten to see. “I’m leaving, you son of a bitch.”

  “Finally.” He smiled, hanging over the railing. She wished it would suddenly give way so he’d come crashing down and snap his pencil neck.

  “I really mean it. I’m leaving this house. I’m leaving the station. I’m leaving Columbus.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t bump into one another if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m putting several state lines and an international border between us.”

  “Jesus, Day, you’re hightailing it to Mexico?”

  “Canada, you moron,” she said, closing the flaps of one cardboard carton and retrieving another from the closet. It had been a pain in the ass to be living out of boxes all summer, but it did make for a quick and tidy getaway.

  “With Collins?”

  “No, I’m going alone. You made damn sure of that when you fed our story to that hack at The Rumormill.”

  He combed his fingers through his bed head hair, making it stick out even more. “The Rumormill? That wasn’t me.”

  “What kind of idiot do you play me for? It mentions you by name.”

  CJ turned and ran up the stairs to his bedroom. She couldn’t imagine he actually knew how to use his computer for anything but porn.

  “Holy shit!” he exclaimed through the floor. “Who said all this?”

  “You did, you fucking ignoramus prick!”

  “No, I didn’t!” He stormed down the stairs again. “I swear, Day, that wasn’t me.”

  “Right, CJ. Just like it wasn’t you who slashed my tires. Or sent the hate mail.”

  “Slashed your tires? I didn’t…I mean, I’d never–”

  “But you’ll cop to the hate mail?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I hate you. But not enough to bother licking a stamp to say it when I have no problem telling you to your face.”