Hotshot

by Jo Leigh

But first she’d grab the paper. She undid the locks as quietly as she could, then opened the door a smidge. As always, the Times and the Post were side by side at her door. She grabbed them, hoping no one would walk by; she had on Chase’s shirt, and it had no buttons. Once inside, she locked the door again and headed for the kitchen.

  She didn’t open the paper until the eggs were in the pan and the bacon was cooking in the microwave. Why she chose to look at the Post first was a mystery. It wasn’t her usual habit. In fact, she always looked at the Times. But not this afternoon.

  She stood by the table, juice in one hand, and unfolded the paper. For a moment, she didn’t understand the headline. She certainly didn’t think it was about her. Not until she saw the picture of Chase, the picture of her.

  Her gaze moved back to the bold words, “Sex Doctor a Virgin!” And then the byline, “Darlene Whittaker.”

  The juice glass slipped from her hand and broke into a million pieces, right along with her heart.

  16

  JAMIE HAD TO SIT DOWN, or else she would fall down. God, how could he? She’d thought she knew him, but it was all a charade. The betrayal was like a fatal knife wound killing her over and over again.

  Chase had never loved her. She didn’t even know if he liked her. And she would have given up the world for him.

  Burying her head in her hands, the tears came, her grief made tangible. It wasn’t enough. She needed to do something, hurt someone, rail at God. But she couldn’t, not with him in the other room.

  How could she have been so stupid, so wrong? Dear God, she had no business telling anyone on earth what to do. How could she give advice when she was such an unbelievable moron?

  She thought back to the way he’d laughed at her impromptu striptease. To know the laughter had been real, that it wasn’t affectionate or loving in any way, made her want to crawl under a rock and die. Why had he come to see her last night—after his mission had been accomplished?

  Was it to rub salt in the wound? To dig up more of her secret past? Or was she just a convenient hole before he went off to Paris?

  She stood up, rage filling her with the need for revenge. She’d go in the bedroom. Confront him with his lies. Tell him… Tell him what? That he had crippled her? That she’d fallen for all of his honeyed words? That she was the biggest fool in America?

  It was too much, too new for her to speak with any clarity. She wanted him out of here so she could curl up in the fetal position and weep until there were no more tears. Maybe later, maybe after she’d cried herself a river, she’d be able to ask him why. How he could be so evil. What he got for making such a fool of her.

  To think he and Whittaker were in cahoots the whole time. She moaned with the humiliation. Of course she’d lose her job, but she’d also lose the respect of her peers, her listeners and everyone else that mattered to her.

  If only she’d been strong. If she’d stuck to her guns. If she hadn’t been duped by his smile, his voice, the way he looked at her.

  Her world had crashed around her, and the only thing she could blame was her own naiveté.

  She sprang from her chair, a wave of panic sending her into the living room and to her bedroom door. She must get out. Now. God forbid he should wake up. But where could she go?

  Marcy. She’d talk to Marcy, and her friend would help her see. What time was it? Two in the afternoon. Wherever Marcy was, she’d have her cell phone with her. The only thing Jamie had to do was somehow get her clothes without waking Chase, and get the hell out of here.

  Opening the door slowly, she saw that he was still sleeping the sleep of the innocent. The bastard. On tiptoes, she walked in, gathered up her clothes, her shoes, her purse. Then, without disturbing him, she walked away and closed the door behind her. With luck, it would be the last time she’d ever see him.

  Five minutes later, she was dressed. Her hair was a nightmare and she wasn’t wearing makeup, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t be here, not another second.

  When she reached the front door, her gaze went back to the bedroom. Half an hour ago, she’d been walking ten feet off the ground. Her world had been shiny and perfect. Now, she felt like she’d been hit by a speeding train. Thanks, Chase.

  “CALM DOWN, I can’t understand you,” said Marcy.

  Chase rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared at the newspaper headline again. It still turned his stomach. “Darlene Whittaker wrote a front page story for the Post. Want to hear the headline? ‘Sex Doctor a Virgin.’ Want to hear the line after that? ‘How her hoax will change radio forever.’”

  “My God.”

  “Is that all you can say?” He crumpled the paper in his hand, wishing it were Darlene’s neck. Or Marcy’s.

  “What do you want me to say? It’s devastating.”

  “Then, why did you do it?”

  “What?”

  “Marcy, I didn’t tell Darlene. That leaves you and Jamie. Considering she ran out of her own apartment, I don’t think she’s the main suspect.”

  “Chase, watch it. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret.”

  “You’re telling me you didn’t call Darlene?”

  “I’m telling you exactly that. I haven’t opened my mouth, not to a living soul.”

  Something told him she was telling the truth, which meant that somehow, someone else had found out about Jamie. “Do you think Jamie could have told someone?”

  “She wouldn’t have called Darlene Whittaker if the reporter was the last person on earth.”

  “I don’t mean Darlene. I mean anyone. An old friend. Someone at the station. Someone she thought she could trust.”

  “I can’t tell you that. But for what it’s worth, I’m probably her closest friend and I knew nothing. I was stunned when you told me.” “You were?”

  “Well, of course. What did you think?”

  “I don’t know. You were pretty cool.”

  “I get paid to be pretty cool.”

  “Shit.” He sat down hard. “She must think it was me.” “Probably.”

  “So how do I clear myself? She’ll never believe me.”

  “She will, Chase, if what you told me was true. If you love her, she’ll know it. Maybe not immediately, but she’ll come around.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I hope so. Damn, I hated that bitch Whittaker from the moment I saw her.”

  Chase stood, his thoughts tumbling on top of each other. “Marcy, find her. Take care of her. I’ve got something to do. But whatever you do, make her do her show tonight.”

  “Wait—”

  He didn’t. He was going to make sure Jamie knew he hadn’t told about her. And he was going to get a retraction in the paper. No one messed with someone he cared about. Not if they expected to keep breathing.

  JAMIE AVOIDED almost everyone on her trek to the office. Everyone except the news vendor on the corner. He grinned at her as if they’d shared a joke. “Hey, is what they say in the paper true? You still a virgin, Doc?”

  She didn’t answer him, afraid she’d burst into hysterics right there on 57th Street. Instead, she walked as quickly as she could inside the building, went right to the emporium on the ground floor and bought a rather ugly, old-fashioned men’s rain hat. It cost almost forty dollars, but Jamie didn’t care. If she could have, she would have bought a tent to hide under.

  The thing she’d feared most had come to pass. To make matters worse, the truth being revealed turned out not to be the most devastating event in her life. That honor went to Chase Newman’s deception. She’d finally dared to love, to trust. And he’d squished her under his boot heel like an ant.

  Shoving her change in her pocket, she plopped the hat on her head and brought it down over her eyes so that she could barely see. But then, people could barely see her, so that was fine.

  Her disguise worked all the way to her office. Of course, it helped that no one was in the reception area. She prayed for Marcy, who hadn’t answered her phone, to be in her off
ice. And for a change, her prayer was answered.

  Marcy rose from her desk, and from the look on her face, Jamie knew she’d read the story.

  She flew into the older woman’s arms, and for a long time, she had no idea how long, she wept, bawled like a baby. Wave after wave of pain washed over her, and she was helpless to stop it.

  Marcy rocked her back and forth, calming her with quiet compassion until Jamie could breathe again.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice laden with tears. “How could he? I fell in love with him and he—”

  “You don’t know that,” Marcy said. “He might not have had anything to do with it.”

  “No one else knew. No one on the planet.”

  “Honey, there could be another explanation. Even if you can’t see it right now. What you have to look at is what you know about Chase. Did he ever behave in a way that would even suggest he could do something this heinous?”

  “Marcy, I’ve only known him a week. He could be Jack the Ripper, for all I know.”

  Marcy pushed her back to arm’s length and forced Jamie to meet her gaze. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”

  “How is it a lie?”

  “Because you’re incredibly intuitive. Why do you think you’re so brilliant at what you do? You read people, Jamie, like I read a book. You see where they need confidence, or where they’ve been wounded. You can’t fake that. Radio audiences are too smart for that.”

  “Radio audiences? I don’t have any, not anymore. Everything I love was wiped out with a headline. I’m a fraud, Marcy, and it’s time you knew it. I have no business trying to help people. What the hell do I know? I believed in Chase.”

  “I still believe in Chase.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m pretty damn intuitive myself. And I think he loves you and he wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

  “No? Okay, aside from the whole life-altering-betrayal thing, what about Paris? Budapest? He’s out of here. On the next plane. What does that say about his love for me?”

  “You don’t know that, either.”

  “Marcy, who’s your friend, him or me? Why are you trying to protect him?”

  “Because you’re my friend. And I think you care a great deal about Chase, and the same is true for him.”

  “Right. He cares for Chase, too.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Why? He told Darlene Whittaker the most awful secret of my life!”

  “Why is it so awful?”

  Jamie stopped. “What?”

  “Why is your being a virgin so awful? Lots of people are. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Tell that to Lorraine or Gabby. These people trusted me.”

  “So? They still do.”

  “That’s not possible. I betrayed them. How can they get advice on sex from someone who’s never had sex?”

  “Jamie, honey, what you talk to them about isn’t sex. It’s about being a person. Feelings. Emotions. How to handle the scary business of life.”

  “Exactly. And I don’t have any idea how to handle life.”

  “Yes, you do. Your gift hasn’t been diminished. In fact, I bet there are hundreds and hundreds of women who’ll applaud your decision to wait.”

  Jamie shook her head. “Yeah, I wasn’t satisfied with sleeping with any son of a bitch. I waited until I found the son of a bitch.”

  “Will you at least give him a chance? Let him tell you his side of the story?”

  “No. The evidence is in black and white. He did this thing to me, and I’m sorry, Marcy, but it’s unforgivable.”

  “I think you’re making a mistake.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  CHASE RODE UP to Darlene’s apartment building and stepped off his bike. She was home, he knew that. He also knew quite a number of other things about her. The past few hours had been hectic but fascinating. He’d never dreamed so many of his father’s old friends would help. And each one had a story to tell, a memory to share. His father, even in his short life, had touched a hell of a lot of people.

  But that wasn’t the central issue. Darlene needed a lesson in ethics, and he was just the man to teach her.

  JAMIE SIPPED HER TEA curled up in Marcy’s leather chair, hiding from the rest of the world. She was supposed to go on the air in a few hours, but she didn’t see how. She was a wreck.

  Her mind kept slinking over to Marcy’s side, trying to conceive of some way Chase could be innocent. But it was dangerous ground, like walking in quicksand. If she continued to harbor the slightest doubt about his guilt, then she was likely to let down her defenses—and then she was done for. Chase was too slick, too charming. And the truth was, she wanted to believe him. She wanted everything to be the way it was this morning. When he’d made slow love to her. The look in his eyes—

  No, no, no. She couldn’t go there. It would just start her crying again, and she didn’t have the strength.

  The sound of someone entering Marcy’s outer office distracted her, and she sighed, staring at the slightly open door, waiting for her friend to come in. Only, she didn’t. Just as Jamie was going to get up to investigate, she heard someone else come through the outer door.

  “Hey, Marcy.”

  That was Ted’s voice.

  “Hello.”

  “You wanted to see me?”

  Marcy cleared her throat. “I did.”

  “Here I am. Want to—”

  “No. I want to stay right here, because if I don’t spit this out this second, I never will.” “What?”

  Jamie leaned forward, straining to hear, even though she knew it was none of her business. Marcy’s voice sounded so…odd.

  “I wanted you to know that when I asked you out to dinner, it wasn’t as a friend.” “No?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “What did you ask me out for?”

  “Damn. I’m sorry, I’m probably going to embarrass the hell out of you. I never dreamed I’d say anything like this, but my friend, she’s going through a lot right now because she doesn’t know the real story, and I don’t want to miss out on something that could be totally terrific because I was a chicken, so I’m just going to say it, and you don’t have to worry, if it’s no, I’ll under—”

  Marcy’s voice stopped mid-word. But, if Jamie wasn’t mistaken, there were still signs of life coming from the other room. Kissing sounds. Scratch that. Major kissing sounds.

  After an embarrassingly long time, she heard a deep intake of breath and a nervous cough.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Marcy asked.

  “I wasn’t sure how you felt.”

  “Me? Are you kidding?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t done this in a while. I wasn’t sure I was reading the signals correctly. I’ve been trying to get up my nerve to talk to you.” “Oh.”

  He laughed softly. “Thank you.”

  “Me? For what?”

  “For being so brave. Imagine all the time and misery we’ve saved because you were willing to put yourself out there. No wonder I’m crazy about you.”

  “Really?”

  Marcy’s voice was high-pitched, breathy, and so full of happiness that Jamie wanted to cry. For her friend. Okay, so some of it was jealousy, but the lion’s share wasn’t. She just kinda wished she couldn’t hear all the smooching. She loved Marcy, but not that much.

  There was no way to sneak out. She’d have to wait until they finished. She might as well use the time to think. About Ted and Marcy. About bravery. About missed connections.

  “ISITTRUE?”

  Jamie inhaled, closed her eyes and prayed for the right words. “It was true, Lorraine. It’s not true any longer.”

  “You mean, you lost the bet?”

  The bet? Who cared about that? She’d just admitted that she’d had no personal sexual experience while she was counseling on the air, and her listeners were concerned about the bet?

  “Dr. Jamie?”

  “No, Lorraine. I did
n’t lose. Because I walked into the situation with my eyes open. There was no seduction, no trickery. I’m fully responsible for my own actions.”

  “Wow. So, uh, was he, you know, as good as he looks?”

  Jamie felt as if she’d been punched. But she’d made the decision to answer any questions honestly. To speak only the truth, whatever the repercussions. “He was.”

  “Man, that is so cool.”

  “Are you telling me you’re not upset about my, uh, situation?”

  “You mean the article?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe you got to be as old as you did without doing the deed, but, no, why should it bother me?”

  “Because I’ve given you advice.”

  “So has my priest. Your advice is better.”

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed. Did you want me to be upset?”

  “No,” she said, but she had to wonder if that was the absolute truth. “I just felt so guilty. Now, I’m feeling pretty foolish.”

  “I have someone you can call,” Lorraine said. “Her name is Dr. Jamie, and she’s the best. She helped me see that I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got, as long as I’m taking responsibility for my actions. That I need to be true to my heart, and that I need balance in my life.”

  Jamie’s eyes burned with tears that she struggled to hold back. “Thank you,” she whispered. “More than you’ll ever know. This is Dr. Jamie, and we’re talking about life.”

  Cujo took his cue, and Jamie leaned back in her chair, trying to figure out what had just happened. She’d been on the air for almost an hour with three different women. Not one had cared a whit about her virginity. They were curious about her reactions to her first time, and, despite her vow to be honest, she wasn’t able to talk about that. Not that she lied. She just explained that she wasn’t ready for the discussion yet.

  The pain was so acute, maybe she’d never be ready. But then, how else could she turn this fiasco into something positive? There was a lesson here. She just wondered what it was.

  At least she still had her show. Which was a bloody miracle. Marcy had clocked in a record number of calls, and Fred had been using the Post article to generate more publicity. So, was she nuts for feeling as if she’d been a fraud? That she owed everyone an apology?