ON AIR

by Hadley Quinn

  “Chloe’s Café at the end of Second Avenue is what you’ve been looking for. It’s just enough outside of the main bustle of the city, but close enough for walking to the waterfront or shopping. The furnishings are adorable and eclectic, you get an actual cup and saucer if you’re staying, there’s no WiFi, no hookups for electronics, and Chloe herself is absolutely adorable. Give it a try, send me your thoughts, and keep listening each Monday morning for a new slice of Portland—your city of roses and so much more.”

  Then she recapped some businesses she’d visited throughout the month and reminded listeners they could check it out on the website if they missed any. She gave another rundown of my sister’s shop with the address, and then signed off.

  I just sat there in my car. Somehow I’d ended up at my architecture firm but didn’t quite remember pulling into the parking lot. Finally I smiled and pumped a fist into the air with a cheer. It all hit me at once, and I felt a shitload of pride wash through me. I figured many people like me just skipped through stations and didn’t hear this sort of thing, but I was just happy someone else seemed to get what Chloe’s goal was all about.

  It was a victory for my sister; therefore it was a victory for me.

  For a Monday, I must have been unusually chipper that day. I entered my office on the third floor and was immediately greeted with curious stares. I knew the only one who would make a comment on it was Madden as he followed me into the conference room.

  “Someone had sex.” He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, stroking his beard, waiting for me to confirm.

  I unrolled my current project on the table and scoffed. “It’s good news for Chloe, not me.”

  “Oh Jesus,” he coughed. “I don’t need to be hearing your messed up family shit—”

  “For fuck’s sake, I’m talking about my sister having some good news for once. My God, pull your sick mind out of the gutter.”

  He paused for a few seconds and then helped himself to a pastry in the corner. Taking a bite, a flake of crust fell to the floor. He glanced down at it, but didn’t bother to clean it up. It caused my OCD to growl within. “So you didn’t get laid?” he asked with a full mouth.

  Shaking my head, I bent over to pluck up the pastry crumble and tossed it in the trash. “No, and use a damn napkin or something.”

  He moved over to the garbage and ate over the top of it instead, taking animalistic bites while not caring what crumbs dropped where. “Natalie avoiding you then? No sex means no Natalie.”

  I didn’t even respond.

  “So what’s the news? A happy Chloe makes for a happy Madden. Spill it.”

  That was true. All of my friends cared about my sister and her wellbeing. I’d only known Madden for the three years I’d worked at Becker & Lewis, but we were somewhat cut from the same cloth. By somewhat I mean that I at least would not make a mess on the carpet just before a business meeting. Madden sort of skipped those kinds of manners, but we were both not like your typical office boys. I was wearing a button-up shirt right now, but only because clients were coming in. Normally I’d be in a t-shirt and jeans, like I was every other day in the office.

  Yeah, we had a pretty cool boss in Clive Becker. I knew that from my very first interview with him because he was sitting there with a big ass tattoo sleeve on his right arm as he flipped through pages of my work. I showed him a couple of my tattoos on my chest and shoulder, and we talked about baseball. We had a casual dress policy here, but I liked to step it up a notch at least when I met with clients.

  “So hurry up, what’s Sis’s news?” Madden asked as he sat in a conference chair.

  I had about twenty minutes until my meeting, so I went through the details of my sister’s shop and then the lady on the radio this morning.

  “Ohhh, yeahhhh, Sinclair.” He nodded like he knew exactly who I was talking about, and the smile on his face seemed a bit immoral. It kind of burst my bubble, like my imaginary connection with her wasn’t exclusive whatsoever now. “She’s got that phone sex voice and I just wanna…mmmmmm….” He closed his eyes with whatever depraved thought was going through his mind.

  “Oh God, just…no.”

  Madden’s eyes opened and he gave a casual shrug. “Hey, have an imagination. No one knows what she looks like, so I’m guessing she’s either fugly or fat. Or both. Maybe she’s got a huge wart on her face or she’s got bad teeth and hair or—”

  “You’re such an asshole,” I shook my head. “Who cares what she looks like? She’s cool in my book. She knows a good business when she sees it.”

  “Yeah, you’re not biased or anything. Maybe she’s too fugly to go anywhere that’s actually populated with, you know, other human beings.”

  I hung my mouth open in utter disgust. “You’re a complete moron.”

  Laughing, he held his hands out with no remorse. “Hey, someone’s gotta spell it out. That’s why I just listen to her voice and make up my own idea of her.”

  “Still, you’re a judgmental prick. And she actually sounded fairly intelligent.”

  “Ha, coming from the guy who rates a girl’s looks on a scale of one to ten? And she does sound smart, so at least she’s got that going for her.”

  “So how come no one knows what she looks like?”

  Madden chuckled. “Trust me, I tried. Went on the station’s website and everything, no pictures. She just goes by a first name, if that’s even her name. And because she’s out there basically reviewing these restaurants for the public, she keeps herself incognito.”

  I could understand that. I’m sure it made for a more authentic, realistic experience instead of a business knowing who she was if she stopped in to critique their place.

  “I bet she really is a phone sex operator,” Madden continued, tapping his chin in thought. “She’s gotta be something good with that voice.”

  My clients walked into the room just as he said that. The husband obviously heard what Madden said based on the humorous reaction on his face, but the wife was still talking to Clive in the doorway.

  “Don’t mind him,” I motioned to Madden. “He’s obviously got some phone calls to make.”

  Madden stood with a stupid grin on his face but didn’t argue as he left. Nathan and Brenda sat down, so we went forward with the review on their house plans.

  3

  I never even got the chance to inform my sister of Monday’s radio segment. Work kept me busy for fourteen hours straight and before I knew it, Chloe was blowing up my phone with texts on Tuesday morning.

  6:20 a.m.

  What did you do!?

  6:24 a.m.

  OMG I need help

  6:25 a.m.

  This is unreal OMG OMG OMG

  7:01 a.m.

  What did you do??? DANE???????

  I called her as soon as I saw her messages. I’d just barely woken up but the second I read her “I need help” message, I was on it like Superman.

  “Dane, what the hell is ‘Slice of the City’? Did you do this? If so I’m very grateful, but a heads up would have been nice. I am so swamped right now!”

  “Chloe, slow down.” I knew that was a useless command as she kept rambling. Her sentences ran one into the next and then she said she was too busy to talk and had to go.

  She hung up on me.

  I got dressed as quickly as I could and called my friend Natalie from the car. I knew nothing about making coffee and all that shit, and if my sister needed help, calling for reinforcements was about all I could do for her. Nat was available and thankfully got there before I did, but Chloe wasn’t kidding about being swamped. The first sign was the amount of cars parked along the street and in the tiny parking lot adjacent to the building; the second sign was the people coming in and out of the café.

  That was a foreign sight.

  When I stepped inside, there were about a dozen bodies sitting at tables and two more at the counter to order. Chloe and Natalie were busy filling orders, and knowing I was completely useless at do
ing what they were doing, I enlisted myself to clear tables and wipe them down for new customers. And seeing that they were running low on mugs, I made myself wash and dry dishes for ten minutes before clearing off a few more tables.

  I kept up this routine for almost two hours. Yeah I had work to do at the office, but my hours were sometimes flexible. I would just work later tonight to make up for it and sent Clive a quick text to let him know I wasn’t sure when I’d be in.

  “You look good with soapy hands,” I heard Nat’s voice as her hand slapped my ass. I was on my third round of dishes.

  I gave her a half-smile and shook my head, still in disbelief that the place had taken on a complete one-eighty from one morning ago. “Thanks for helping out. I knew I couldn’t do what you two do.”

  She shrugged. “Meh, glad my old barista skills could be of use again. Well, besides just using them to pick up guys,” she winked.

  It made me laugh. I wouldn’t exactly call Nat an ex-girlfriend, but I guess she was a consistent hookup. She was not only laid back and witty, she was extremely beautiful. Long brown hair and hazel eyes, and a figure I deemed to be perfect.

  We really did meet in the coffee shop she worked at and she’d flirted relentlessly with me. I was flattered, but I was actually there with another girl—who happened to get pissed and broke up with me over it. I didn’t even do anything wrong, hadn’t even flirted back. But I guess Nat had been a blessing in disguise because that other chick had been a waste of my time anyway.

  I couldn’t deal with clingy and jealous.

  “Dane, what in the hell did you do?” Chloe’s voice called as she came to the back. “Okay, I have five seconds, so spill it!”

  “Slice of the City advertised your café.”

  Her eyes bugged out at me. “She was here!?” Her voice squeaked unusually high before she shook her head and rushed back to the front again.

  I looked at Natalie. “Is everyone familiar with that radio thing besides me?”

  “Slice of the City with Sinclair? Maybe. It’s a cool little segment. She really does find neat places that not many people know about.”

  I scoffed. “And what if she hates somewhere she’s been?” I didn’t even want to think what could have happened if it’d been the opposite result for Chloe.

  “Oh no,” Nat shook her head. “It’s only places she likes. She doesn’t hate on the shitty ones, just promotes the ones she loves. I’ve been to two of her suggestions and they are now my favorite go-to spots. Blue Shade Café and Fiona’s Malt Shoppe.”

  I’d never heard of either but nodded my head like I agreed. I dried the last few mugs and hung them up on a rack. “Well whether I like her suggestions or not, I’m grateful she stopped in here.”

  Natalie nodded, but with a frown. “I just wish I’d seen her! No one knows what she looks like. She’s like a mysterious lurker, you always wonder if she’s there somewhere.”

  Nat looked intrigued by the mystery of it, and I guess I could see her point. She left to rejoin Chloe up front, and when another one of my sister’s friends showed up to help, I made my exit.

  On my way to work that day, I found the radio station’s website and pulled up the older editions of Slice of the City on my phone. I listened to four by the time I got to the office, including the one about that Blue Shade place. I have to admit…her review made me want to try it out. That, and I was still mesmerized by her voice. And I really didn’t think she had a phone sex voice like Madden said; it wasn’t that unnecessarily sexual. But it was sexy, and that’s what I couldn’t get out of my head.

  I spent the next eight hours at my desk, and by the time seven o’clock hit, I was rubbing my weary eyes. Somehow I was typing in the radio station’s web address on my laptop. It looked almost the same as it did on my phone, and I don’t know what I was expecting to find, but I clicked on the Slice of the City tab again. No matter what I looked through, there still wasn’t a picture to be found of this woman. There were pictures of the establishments she’d reviewed—even my sister’s was on there from the day before—but nothing that showed me who this “Sinclair” lady was.

  I closed everything up and headed home. Fate had a strange way of working Her magic sometimes. I felt like my sister was deserving of this boost, and all of her texts throughout the day made me a very happy big brother.

  Before I pulled into my driveway, I’d passed Peter getting his mail. He’d waved, I had waved back, and I drove on my merry way. But when I stepped out of my truck that was now parked in the garage, Peter was coming up my driveway and I could feel my mood slip pretty quickly.

  “Howdy there, neighbor! How goes it?”

  If I haven’t painted the image of this guy well enough, I’m extremely sorry. Just hearing him say those words made me have to stifle a groan. He sounded like that really religious neighbor, Ned Flanders, from The Simpsons.

  “Hey, Peter, how are you?” I removed my work satchel from the back seat and shut the door as I faced him.

  Eyeing the briefcase-like bag as I slung it over my shoulder, Peter asked, “Long day at work?”

  I glanced down at my bag, which was loaded with my personal laptop and six different client files. “Yeah, somewhat. No work no pay, and no pay means no play.” I laughed at my own joke but he only stared at me expressionless. Clearing my throat, I asked, “So, uh, did you need something, Peter? I’m gonna head inside, shower, maybe eat something…”

  He seemed to refocus on whatever he’d come by for, or at least I hoped he would so he could leave.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Dane.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him, not at all expecting such a serious reflection of his time. “Oh? How come?”

  Peter gave me a smile, and whether it was genuine or not, he looked like a fucking noob standing there. This guy was seriously a mess of things I didn’t understand.

  “I really enjoyed having you and Christopher at my home the other night. I would truly like it if you came by more often. Maybe I could host a dinner on a specific night of the week and the both of you could attend?”

  The fuck? He wanted to hang out with me more? No. Absolutely not. And Chris and I had barely been active participants at his party the other night anyway. We just didn’t fit in.

  “You want- you want me to come over more?” I stammered. “Well that’s a nice gesture, Peter, but I just don’t have time. Thank you for inviting me to your bachelor party, but that was kind of a one-time thing. I’m just not that social.”

  Well it was sort of true. I was social when I felt like being social, but no, I couldn’t keep faking my way through interactions with this guy. I wasn’t the type to shoot the breeze with someone on any given day, and especially someone I had nothing in common with. Polite was one thing; buddies…no.

  “Maybe if you tried it now and then, you’d find you liked it,” Peter smiled. “Perhaps the company would become familiar and you’d feel safe with me, and my kind of friends.”

  His kind of friends? Feel safe? What the hell was he implying?

  He glanced down at my satchel again, which was still hanging on my shoulder and resting against my hip. “It’s never too late to change your priorities, Dane. Wickedness never was happiness.”

  I blinked several times, cocked my head to the side, and took a moment to puzzle-solve. “What exactly are we talking about here? What’s wicked? My work?”

  Peter looked up at me, his expression now seeming a bit preachy. I knew the guy went to church each week, but I’d never actually heard him sermonize me before. Yeah, he’d probably stereotyped me when he first saw my tattoos while I mowed my lawn shirtless, or my overall casual appearance when I was in jeans and one of my music t-shirts, but I had always thought he was just a nice, overly geeky guy who just wanted to have friendly neighbors.

  Or maybe he’d befriended me because he was scared of me? Perhaps he thought I would terrorize the neighborhood somehow and he wanted to be on my good side so my twisted biker g
ang didn’t come after him.

  I did have a Harley parked right next to my truck, but that’s beside the point.

  I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, trying not to roll my eyes. “Look, Peter, I’m not sure why you think I’m a sinful person, but I work hard and I provide for the people I care about. I wouldn’t exactly call that wickedness. I’ll see you around, okay?”

  I headed for the entry to my house and pushed for the garage door to shut. I don’t think I would have cared if he was underneath it at that point, but it came down as a much-needed barrier between us.

  I’d been five seconds from telling him to go fuck himself.

  4

  “Affordable, quaint, accommodating… If you’re looking for a fabulous wine bar, Rita’s Peak is somewhere you should definitely consider. And that’s it for this week’s Slice of the City, I’m Sinclair, and I hope you enjoy your beautiful city in as many ways possible!”

  I’d been listening to an older edition of the radio show, one that dated almost a year back. It seemed as if this Sinclair person had been doing this broadcast for the past thirteen months. At first it had been a once-a-month segment, but over the spring, it had turned into once a week. Now that I had officially heard every single episode, I felt a bit shortchanged. It was like a binge on Netflix was over or something. Now I’d have to wait for the newest installment each week and I didn’t feel very patient.

  And I also felt like an obsessive stalker.

  I entered Jessop’s Bar & Grill a few minutes later than I’d told the guys. It was Saturday night and I’d been looking forward to just cutting loose for a bit. Chris and Madden were already shooting a game of pool with two of our other buddies, but I was surprised to see Natalie there with a couple of her girlfriends. They were sitting at the bar with drinks and Nat waved me over.

  I kissed her on the cheek to say hello, and then gave forced nods to Krista and Whitney. They weren’t my favorite people but I could play nice. “Jameson,” I told the barkeep. She nodded and fetched my order. “So what’s new, ladies? Are we on the prowl tonight or no.”