by Lisa Patton
Jane answers each line and immediately puts all the callers on hold. Pushing aside the small microphone that stretches from the headset across her cheek, she closes her eyes and sighs heavily. “Oh girl. Johnny Dial is at it again. He’s giving our entire listening area, which is close to three hundred thousand people, emergency routes out of the city. He’s telling folks in downtown to get on the interstate at Riverside Drive. Then he’s telling people out in Germantown to hop on I-40 at Germantown Road. To the folks in Midtown he’s recommending they take 240 and loop around the city. But he’s not telling folks why. People are in a panic. Fire engines have been dispatched and that’s creating pandemonium. I just transferred the mayor to Dan Malcomb’s office.” Dan Malcomb is the general manager of FM 99.
“Oh good lord,” I say.
“I’ve been handling all these calls myself. Now that you’re here, I’m sending them up to you, girlfriend.”
“I was on the phone instead of listening to Johnny on the way in. The one morning I don’t listen, this happens.”
“It’s a good thing. You may have headed out of the city yourself. He fooled me this time.”
“What exit route did you take?”
“No, girl,” Jane lowers her voice. “He fooled me when I got in. I don’t listen to FM 99. I’m a K 97 girl, but don’t tell nobody.” The phones start ringing again. I imagine the callers probably got frustrated, hung up, and are calling back.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” I can’t help but shake my head. “That Johnny’s crazy. Cute, but crazy.”
The buzzing of more phone lines causes Jane to throw her hands in the air. She simply nods her head and waves.
As I’m running up the back stairs to my office, a thought crosses my mind. There is some good that’s come out of Johnny’s latest prank. It means that Edward’s attention will be elsewhere. With any luck, last night’s concert will be the furthest thing from his mind.
I can hear both of our station lines ringing when I step into the FM hall. I fling my purse down and answer line one, slipping down into my chair. I don’t even have time to remove my coat. “Classic Hits FM 99, will you please hold a minute?”
“NO. Transfer me to the control room. Dial’s not picking up.”
“Sure, Edward,” I say, and a chill creeps up my spine. It’s hard to dissect his mood, the tone of his voice no different than usual.
After transferring him into the control room, I answer another call. “Classic Hits FM 99, may I help you, please?” The background noise lets me know it’s a cell phone.
“Yes. Why are people leaving the city? I’m in Germantown and the line to get on the interstate must be two miles long. Will it be that way all the way to Nashville?” I can hear a slight amount of panic in the man’s voice.
“Well it’s—”
“Or am I supposed to go towards Mississippi? Or Arkansas?” His panic is growing. “Should I be taking the new bridge across the river or the old one? I’m confused.”
“Well sir, actually … it’s a joke.”
“What’s a joke?”
“That Johnny Dial is at it again. He’s just pulling your leg,” I say lightheartedly.
“Pulling my leg my ass!” His voice is growing louder. “Does he think this is funny?”
“Well, sir, I’ve actually just gotten to work and I’m—”
“What’s your name?” he says, sharply.
“Huh?”
“Your name. I want your name.”
“Leelee.” I’m coy when I say it.
“Okay, Leelee. Let me tell you something. I’m sick of this bullshit. This is the very last time I’ll ever turn on your damn radio station.” (Actually he says “g.d.” but I don’t even like to repeat it.) “You tell that Johnny Dial that I’m going to beat his little ass the next time I see him. You got that?”
I don’t say anything.
“You got that? Because if you don’t tell him, I’m gonna let the air out of your tires. Now I don’t mean that as a direct threat. It’s an indirect threat. Because I’m assuming that you, little darlin’, are going to make sure that this is the last time that little weasel is allowed to do something like this. I hope they fire his ass!”
Just at that second, Stan strolls into my office, whistling and snapping his pudgy fingers. I glance over at him, frustration all over my face.
“Okay, sir, I will give him your message.”
I hang up, sigh loudly, and stare at the phone. Almost immediately another line starts blinking. Five rings later I’m thinking of letting it ring off the hook.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
I look up at Stan, who’s flipping through the mail on top of my file cabinet. Honestly, I wish he’d just go away, especially when he snorts his snot again and swallows it seconds later. “I’m not sure,” I say.
“Here, I’ll take care of it.” He stretches his big self around me from behind and leans into my back while reaching for the phone. Seeing that I’m not at all in the mood for Stan, I wriggle out from underneath his embrace.
“Classic Hits FM 99 radio, may I help you?” he says, before an artificial smile forms on his face. He nods. “I feel your pain. Yes. I un-der-stand. Edward is…” He looks at me and I shake my head. “Not in yet. Why yes it is! I’m just helping out my secretary here.”
Oh, so now I’m your secretary.
“No, not my style. I’m not into that foolishness. Straightforward Stan. That’s my name. Okay. Talk soon. God bless. Buh-bye.” He settles his overgrown rear on my desk and dramatically drops the phone into its cradle. (Stan wouldn’t even consider pulling a major prank. Behind his back, Johnny calls him “Stan the Brown Nosing Wussy Wus Man.” Or sometimes just “Wussy Wus” for short.)
“Dial is in trouble now.” I detect a bit of a smirk upon his face, the disdain for his chief competitor seeping through.
As soon as the words leave his lips the hall door bangs and hits the wall. Dan Malcomb rushes past my office, heading straight toward the control room. Even though the room is supposed to be soundproof, Stan and I can hear muffled screams. The large window across from my office gives us a pretty good view into the control room.
Moments later, Edward runs by and once again I hear the control room door open and shut. More screaming. Nosy Stan slides off my desk, knocking several of my pens onto the floor, and slips across the hall to Michael’s traffic room. He must have pushed a certain button because all of a sudden, the conversation out of the main control room is blasting through Michael’s speakers.
“We could lose our license,” Dan Malcomb screams. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I’ve tried to warn him. A thousand times.” Edward’s calm but sickening voice makes me ill.
“Go on the air right now and tell them it’s a damn joke,” Dan Malcomb screams even louder.
Then total silence. The sound of Michael’s door closing is the last thing I hear. That Stan has shut me out, though I have to admit I was a willing eavesdropper.
Two weeks ago, when the Delta Queen was docked down at the Mississippi, Johnny told the listeners that the state of Tennessee had decided to legalize gambling on the boat for twenty-four hours only. So many people showed up at the steamboat to get into the casino that the captain had no choice but to pull away from the dock, leaving a thousand people screaming to go on board. All Johnny got for that one was a talking-to. He told me later that Mr. Malcomb secretly loves all the PR but has to at least go through the motions and act like a good general manager. Johnny’s ratings are so high, I bet he could rob a bank and not get fired. I bet they’d just move the broadcast straight on down to the jail. But high ratings or not, this time there’s no doubt about it, he’s in trouble. Big time.
Like I had hoped, Edward is far too concerned about what Johnny’s doing than what I’m doing or, more importantly, what I did last night. The suspense of the evacuation prank is killing me, though. It’s that part of me that loves a confrontation, as long as it h
as nothing to do with me. When I hear Edward’s office door slam, I muster up all my courage and wait at the control room door until the on-air light fades. The morning show is almost over for the day when I slide inside. When Johnny sees me, he laughs. One side of his headphones is off his ear.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“I’m fine.”
“Do you still have a job?”
He nods his head.
“Thank goodness. I was worried there for a second.”
“I may have taken this one a bit far but it’s April Fool’s for god’s sake.”
“You’re right. I forgot all about that until just this second.”
Johnny shakes his head. “Not to worry about me. I’ll survive.” He flips through his log sheets and pushes several buttons on the board. For the life of me I can’t imagine how anyone learns to operate one of those.
“Oh, by the way,” I say, “thank you.” There’s a bit of sarcasm in my voice.
“For what? Don’t tell me you followed 240 out of the city.”
“No,” I say with a giggle. “Actually I was on the phone with my girlfriend on the way here this morning and missed the whole thing. I want to thank you for taking the heat off of me.”
“Why? What did you do?” His blue eyes twinkle and a huge smile spreads across his face.
“I’m taking it as a good sign that you don’t know.”
“I don’t know anything. Do you, Jack?”
Jack, Johnny’s sidekick, is seated on the other side of the control board typing on his computer. “I know na’zing,” he says in a German accent, like Sergeant Schultz on Hogan’s Heroes. “I know na’zing.”
“Are y’all pulling my leg?” My eyes travel between the two men.
“No,” Johnny says. “I swear to god. We know nothing.”
I feel the warmth from the hall, all of a sudden, on my back as the door swings open. It’s always freezing cold in the control room due to all the heat from the equipment. Stan breezes right past me.
“Good morning, everyone.” He files in all chipper-like and places his briefcase next to Johnny’s on the credenza behind the control board. He loves nothing more than entering the control room fifteen minutes before his shift starts. I feel like he does it just to bug Johnny.
Now I can’t finish my story.
“How was the concert?” Stan turns around and asks me. “I heard you got up close and personal with Mr. Liam White.” He winks several times to alert me that he’s the one in the know.
“Who told you that?” I ask him.
“A little birdie.”
Before I can say another word the little birdie comes charging through the door. He glares at me with mean in his eyes. My heart starts racing like I’ve just jogged four miles and by now I’m ready to dive in a hole. The blood rushing to my head makes me feel as though I might faint.
“We would have enjoyed an invitation to wherever you went with White last night.”
Oh no. “Edward. Honestly, I meant no harm. When he asked to buy us a drink, I had no idea we’d go to his dressing room, much less his tour bus.” As I hear the words leaving my lips, I’m ready to shoot myself. If Virginia had been with me, she would have shot me already. When under pressure, I’ve been telling on myself my whole life.
“You went on his tour bus?” Stan says, and bobs his head like a bobblehead doll. “Hubba hubba.”
“Did you sleep with him?” Edward asks.
The room goes perfectly silent. My heart takes a nosedive and I can feel tears bubbling behind my eyes.
Johnny’s mouth pops open, and his eyes bulge. “Dude! You shouldn’t say that. Isn’t there something about sexual harassment in there?”
“You have no room to say anything today,” Edward says. His heels come off the floor as he points at Johnny.
I’m not sure how to respond. It’s the biggest insult I’ve ever received, bar none. “Of course not,” I finally say with an indignant look on my face. “What kind of a question is that?” I bite the inside of my mouth to keep from crying.
“A direct one,” Edward says and strokes his beard. I watch as he moves behind the board and picks up the logbook.
“I’m sorry, Edward. I think I just got carried away in the moment. My friends and I have been listening to Liam White since we were eight or nine.” I hold my hand out to indicate how tall we were back then. The fear in my voice, I’m sure, must be evident to everyone. “We were just excited to get to talk with him. I meant no harm by it. I promise.”
“See that it never happens again. I don’t want it to look bad for the station.”
“How could it possibly reflect poorly on the station?” Johnny says. “We have a hot radio assistant and he likes her. I would think that would look good for the station.” The great thing about Johnny is Edward doesn’t scare him a bit.
“Not necessarily,” Edward says, as he’s flipping through the log. “He just wants to get in your pants. Can’t you see that, you silly girl?”
The tears I’d been fighting back well up in the corners of my eyes and all I want to do is run as far away from FM 99 as my legs will carry me. I refuse to let him see me cry so I gnaw down on the inside of my mouth even harder. The metallic taste of blood lets me know I’ve succeeded. “I would never allow that to happen. I realize that you don’t know me very well, but I’m not that kind of girl.”
“That’s what they all say, until they get around the stars. They’re called star fu—”
The sound of me gasping for air cuts him off before he can complete the word.
Edward shifts his feet, jams his hands in his pants pockets, and looks me in the eye. “That’s a saying, Leelee.” Now his tone has shifted from harsh to patronizing. Even he knows he’s stepped over the line. “I don’t mean it literally. It’s what those of us in the business call people who hang around the stars—people who are obsessed with the stars—male or female. It refers to the people who are so impressed with a star’s success that they make fools out of themselves backstage. Like you’ve done. Trust me, I’ve been in this business a long time. Make sure you stick to your job description.”
Now I’m not only hurt, I’m incensed. “I have no intention of ever becoming a star f— … a star f—fornicator!” I say, with a shaky, but loud voice. “Besides Liam White has no intentions or interest in me. He was just being nice to us. When would I ever run in to him again anyway?”
“Well, I suppose that’s true. He’s halfway to Florida by now.” Once again, the tone in his voice changes and this time he’s half nice. “I bought his tour T-shirt at the concert last night. Jacksonville is his next stop. See.” He turns around so we can all see that he’s wearing the shirt. Like a true psychopath, Edward’s gone from crazy to calm in no time at all—and I’m left watching him walk out of the control room, tasting the blood in my mouth.
Johnny points behind Edward’s back and mouths the words, “He’s the star fornicator,” and uses his fingers as quotation marks.
* * *
There’s no way I’ll be able to get to the end of this day. I’ve got another hour until lunch and I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it that long. Edward’s accusation has hurt me to the core. Seriously. I’m devastated. I would never sleep with a man I didn’t know, much less a rock star. This is the most frustrated I’ve been since Baker took up with the silicone snow bunny. Even though I’m distracted by answering phone call after phone call about Johnny’s evacuation escapade, my tears won’t stop. I can’t help but look up at the clock every few minutes, counting the seconds until my break.
When the phone rings again, I’m tempted to pick it up and scream, What? It was a joke. If you don’t like it, don’t listen. My voice is completely flat when I answer the phone. “FM 99” is all I say, with no affect.
“What an idiot.” It’s Johnny calling from his car. Just hearing his voice makes me even more emotional. I wish he were single.
“Don’t cry, baby. He’s as sick a pup as they
come. Try not to let him get to you.”
“He’s so mean.”
“Yeah, but he’s just an insecure bully. He does this to every girl in your position. We must have had fifty programming assistants since I’ve been working here. Well, I’m exaggerating. They’re on to him in HR, though. Just try to ignore him.”
“I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to ignore him. That’s not my personality.”
“Just focus on how stupid he is. He asked me the other day if Bonnie Raitt was white or black. And he’s supposed to be the program director of this station. For god’s sake.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. They’ll get over it. Here I get them coverage on all the major TV stations. Free PR. And they’re pissed.”
“Oh well.”
“Plus, most of our listeners thought it was funny. I had tons of calls on the request line from people who were like, ‘Dial, this is great. How do you do it?’ Leelee, I swear you should have seen the veins in Malcomb’s neck. They must have been an inch in diameter. He was screaming at me, telling me we could lose our license.” Johnny busts out laughing. Still has his sense of humor, despite the amount of discord he’s caused.
“I bet it was touch and go,” I say, sniffling.
“Yeah, but if they want another wuss like Stan, they should hire one.”
“Oh gosh, don’t even say that.” At the sound of his name, I glance out my office and can see him through the window of the control room.
“Speaking of, he’s so happy I’m in deep shit. Did you see the look on his face when we were all in the control room earlier?”
“Oh, the poor thing’s just jealous of you. Did you know he listened to y’all’s conversation? He went into Michael’s room and pushed a button so he could hear it.”
“I figured he would. That nosy little wussy wuss. Listen, I have an idea. A way to get back at him. Are you in?”
“I don’t know. I’m in trouble, too. I have to be careful.”
“You won’t get in any trouble. I just want to mess with him, that’s all. Have some fun.”