ON AIR

by Hadley Quinn

  “How’s Chloe’s shop doing?” I asked.

  Maybe I was changing the subject, and yes I realized I hadn’t responded to her flattery, but my mind sort of worked that way.

  Deflection.

  “It’s doing well, actually. I mean the rush has tapered off, obviously, but she still needs me part time. I think she’s got a steady flow of customers right now. I’m really happy for her.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Crazy how that happened,” she added, giving me a watchful eye.

  My eyebrow arched. “What’s that look for?”

  She shrugged. “Just seems a bit coincidental. And then Darius’s bar?”

  “Hey, I had nothing to do with Chloe’s coffee shop getting more business.”

  “But you did for Baseline? I heard Madden say something about you having a hand in that.”

  I paused, just to arrange my response correctly. “Okay, so I heard that radio thing, and then Chloe’s shop just blew up with business the next two days. A few days later, I emailed the radio station to thank the lady who was responsible for all of it.”

  Natalie’s eyes doubled in size. “Fuck outta here! You emailed Sinclair? You recommended Baseline?”

  “Well…sort of. We messaged a couple of times and then she told me she was gonna be doing sports bars, and if I had any suggestions. So…I gave her a few.”

  Natalie sat back against the couch and exhaled. “Wow, how cool. She actually emailed with you?”

  I was a bit surprised she was stuck on that aspect of it. “Well, yeah. She thanked me for being grateful instead of being a business wanting her to feature them.”

  Natalie bobbed her head from side to side in thought. “Hmm. Yeah, I never thought of it that way. I bet she gets that a lot.” Looking at me she asked, “Wanna know a secret? I emailed her too.”

  “No shit? When?”

  “About a month ago. Not to ask for favors, but to suggest some businesses. I guess maybe she could have taken it the wrong way. I totally didn’t set myself up to benefit from it, but I guess it could seem that way. Hey, and I also thanked her for two recommendations. They’ve become my favorite places. I guess she didn’t message me back because I don’t have a dick,” she added with smug insinuation.

  Chuckling, I shrugged. “I don’t know why she chose to reply. Just one of those things.”

  “Mmhmm,” she nodded. “She probably took the information from your email and looked you up. Your picture for your firm’s site is fucking hot, Dane. Button-up shirt and tie, that panty-wetting smile… Pussy killer.”

  I considered that for a second. I guess my email signature did include my business information in fine print. Maybe Sinclair had dug deeper and maybe she hadn’t, but it was an interesting situation. “Her last email did sort of imply she wanted me to reply again.”

  Natalie coughed out a laugh. “Oh really? So you two have a thing through emails?”

  I could tell she was joking, but from my experience, most women joke with the truth.

  “No, we’ve just talked about her radio show.” I pulled out my phone to scroll through it. “Here, you can see for yourself.”

  “I don’t want to read your emails, Dane. Especially ones that are pre Dane-and-Natalie.”

  “Still… Doesn’t bother me.” I handed her my phone and watched TV for a minute while she read them.

  “So? What did you think of the segment?” Natalie asked.

  I paused. “I haven’t really heard the entire thing,” I admitted. Peter had been pacing my driveway that day.

  She actually seemed pleased, which I guess worked in my favor. Maybe it squashed a bit of her insecurity when it came to other women, but really, she had nothing to worry about.

  “You know, men go nuts over her voice,” she even said. “I don’t even blame you if Madden’s sick thoughts have rubbed off on you.”

  “Madden lives in his own head half the time. He’s got this image of her as some glowing goddess with long flowing red hair and huge tits. He’s a fucking teenager with a boner for Jessica Rabbit.”

  She laughed. “Well I think her voice is hot and I wouldn’t mind finding out what she looks like either. Can I talk her into a threesome? Think she’d come out of hiding that way?” she snickered.

  “Oh God, Nat. She’s got a unique voice. It doesn’t mean she’s a sex addict.”

  “I didn’t say that. Just maybe she’d be interested. She knows what you look like…”

  I gave her an impatient frown. “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “Ask her out, Dane! I give you permission.”

  “Because you want to know what she looks like?”

  “Yes! I don’t care if that sounds shallow, but you seriously don’t understand. This woman has my dream job. She holds so much power, yet no one would know it if they even saw her. How cool is that! And then she gets to talk on the radio for five minutes—not long but just long enough to influence a lot of people. I’d be sharing the nail salon I go to, that little glassblowing place where I make my ornaments, and hell, even my gynecologist.”

  I made a face. “If people flock to a pussy doctor upon your recommendation, I don’t think I understand anything about this world.”

  Giggling, Natalie shoved me in the arm. “I’m just thinking out loud. I don’t know what I’d share, but it would be so fun. I’m kind of envious of her.”

  “Hmm, if I ask her out and we go on a date, then you’d be really envious of her for being with me. Oh wait, that’s funny, you already have me!”

  “I’m not serious!” she laughed out loud. “That would be mean to do, just to see who she is. And you’re totally right, I wouldn’t want anyone to have you alone.” She climbed onto my lap and straddled me. “Because I think I’m all the woman you need.”

  I couldn’t disagree. And maybe I’d known that for a while but was afraid of it. I think the thought of investing everything I had in one person was a bit daunting, and that’s why I feared going for the whole 100%-deal. I’m talking living together, sharing things, and paying bills.

  And if we started doing all of that, then there were only a couple more steps you could actually take in a relationship and I just wasn’t ready.

  ***

  I spent two hours of my Saturday morning on a design I’d been finishing up, and then I went outside to do some of that domesticated crap like mow my lawn. My place was pretty easy to upkeep, being that it was in a neighborhood of mid-sized homes owned by above-middle-class homeowners. We all had basic yards and shrub beds, nothing too fancy but still nice looking.

  Natalie had stayed the night because she’d fallen asleep on my couch, but she left at seven a.m. to work a shift at my sister’s coffee shop. I didn’t know if we were getting together later or not, neither of us mentioned it, but I figured I’d be texting her later anyway.

  Around two in the afternoon, I was dumping the trash in the outdoor receptacle when a familiar car pulled up. Automatically my mood brightened when I saw Chris. He was about an hour early but didn’t hesitate to help out by putting the mower and other maintenance tools back in my garage for me.

  It was then that I noticed a small moving truck down the street at Peter’s house. He was unloading some boxes by himself while Charlotte seemed to be supervising. I’d only met his fiancée once, but her strawberry blonde hair was unmistakable.

  “God, you’re gonna make me help too, aren’t you?” Chris grumbled upon noticing what I’d noticed.

  Chuckling, I answered, “Nah, man, you don’t have to. But he looks like he’s on his own.”

  I knew Chris would join me anyway, and we made our way down the street. My last few interactions with Peter had been awkward, but it didn’t mean I had it in me to let the guy move furniture by himself.

  He saw us as he exited the house empty-handed, and paused with a distrustful frown on his face.

  “Dude, what’d you do to him?” Chris mumbled so only I could hear. “Looks like we’re the last people he wan
ts to see.”

  I ignored him and said, “Hey Peter, let us give you a hand.”

  He tried turning us away, but I had Charlotte on his ass as soon as I mentioned more hands meant safer care for her belongings. It only took us about fifteen minutes—just boxes and then some pieces of furniture like end tables, a glass cabinet, a hope chest, a dining set, and a dresser.

  “Could you stay for dinner?” Charlotte asked after the last item had been placed inside. “I have lasagna in the oven. It should be done in ten minutes or so.”

  As much as my stomach said yes, my brain was screaming no. And Peter made a big production over how busy we were and that they shouldn’t tie us down with demands. I was torn between politely declining and saying yes just to piss him off.

  “That’s very nice of you, Charlotte,” I told her. “But Pete’s right. We’re just a couple of assholes who work too much and need to get our priorities straight.” I roughly patted him on the back. “Right, buddy? I worked almost seventy hours this week, so it’s time to repent before vegetation time at Casa de Thomas.”

  I turned for my house before I was tempted to be an even bigger dickhead.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” Chris said when we were out of earshot. “I don’t want to spend another minute with the guy either but that was salty, man.”

  I filled him in on my last couple of exchanges with Peter. I think looking back on those times made me even more irritated than I’d been when they happened, so I may have cussed a bit more while I recounted the experiences.

  Chris gave me a strange look after we entered my house. “Okay, I take it back. He’s weird as fuck. But you made us go over there to help him anyway?”

  Yeah, I didn’t understand it either. But good deeds were good deeds. As long as Peter kept to himself and out of my personal business, I didn’t mind giving a hand.

  I pulled out some ground beef to grill for burgers. “Meh, hopefully he got the hint.”

  “Mmhmm. You’re gonna climb in your bed one night and he’s gonna be in it waiting for you,” Chris snorted.

  16

  “If you’re in the mood for something savory but want low-key, Holden’s Steakhouse is absolutely the best. My food was excellent, and had there been room for more, I would have eaten more. I took a few desserts to-go, and good lord, let me tell you…that night was the best Netflix binge I’ve ever had!”

  My commute to work ended up making me want to return home and watch TV all day with a steak and chocolate lava cake and it was only eight a.m. I’m telling you…it wasn’t really the words she spoke, but how she spoke them. Whoever hired Sinclair for this job was a fucking genius because half the males in the city had probably doubled the economy for businesses in Portland.

  And she was a Netflix binger. I’m not sure if I liked or hated that fact. It made me picture myself bingeing next to her with pie and ice cream. And by “her” I mean some phantom image of a beautiful woman who was obviously stunning even though I couldn’t see any of her features. That didn’t matter, right?

  I also wondered if she was single, married, or divorced. “We” was never her choice of pronoun when recapping her adventures. She always said “I”, and I usually assumed she went to these places by herself. Or maybe I pictured it that way because I wanted to.

  And the way she described a juicy steak…

  I wondered if I could get Natalie to call me up and describe how she wanted her meat served. Just the thought of that gave me a stupid smile as I entered my building that morning. I walked straight to my office and shut my door; today was going to be a nose-to-the-computer sort of day and I didn’t need any distractions. Including my own thoughts and this ridiculous curiosity with a woman I’d never met. I felt like I seriously needed to get it out of my system, kind of like a really productive jerk-off session to chill the restless hormones.

  It was just a stupid mystery that I wanted to solve.

  An hour into my day, a knock sounded at my door. I didn’t care who it was but called for them to enter. I entered the last bit of my south wall measurements on my design and spun in my chair to face Davey. I was a bit surprised to see him so early. Normally he arrived late afternoon after his other part time job.

  “Hey man, what’s up?”

  He seemed uncomfortable but ultimately shrugged and said, “Clive told me it was all right to change my hours to morning time. Julie has more for me to do.”

  I slowly nodded my indifference and replied, “Okay. Well, you’ve had a week here and know what’s what, so go to town, man.”

  He only returned the nod and went straight to work. Somewhere outside of my office, but I had no idea where he headed.

  I personally didn’t have too much for an assistant to help me with. Clive had tried to get one for me a year ago but it was just a waste of the guy’s time. I’m way too anal to let someone take care of certain things for me, and I’m also a perfectionist.

  Most of my work was a solo job, too. It’s not like I could have Davey discuss design and shit with me. And he also barely said anything and didn’t seem too eager to be doing what he was doing, but how could I blame him? I’d be bored, too.

  A part of me worried that I’d offered him a job where there wasn’t a job. The purpose was to keep him away from lowlifes on the street, but maybe I’d bitten off more than I could chew. Most of the time he ended up playing go-fer between departments. Twice he’d even gone across the street and brought back lunch for a few of us. He never complained or copped any attitude, but I wondered if he was secretly cursing me under his breath.

  “You want me to run some lunch to you before I leave?”

  Sometime later, Davey had entered my office again. I glanced at the clock, a bit surprised that it was almost one already. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

  I gave him some cash, told him what I wanted, and like usual, let him know he could get something too. But he never did. Maybe after more time at Becker & Lewis he’d feel more comfortable with the offer. He got paid an hourly wage, but a lunch perk here or there wasn’t a big deal. Even Clive bought some of us lunch on occasion.

  When Davey returned, he set a Styrofoam container on my desk and a bag with napkins, condiments, and plastic utensils. I could smell the bacon burger instantly and my mouth watered.

  “Alright, I’m out,” he said, setting a few bills and change on the desk.

  “Keep the change, Davey.”

  “Nah, man.”

  He left without another word and I watched him until the door shut behind him. I hated the awkwardness between us, but maybe that was my own fault. And I knew I hadn’t even checked up on Davey’s other activities. I mean he was here at Becker & Lewis like I’d requested, but I didn’t even know if he’d truly gotten himself out of trouble.

  And I didn’t want to ask Natalie. Maybe I didn’t want her to worry, or maybe I didn’t want her involved more than necessary, but I felt if I brought it up, she’d only think there was something to stress about. There’d only been one time she mentioned Davey and it was to thank me for giving him the job.

  He hadn’t been here long, but maybe I needed to do some investigating.

  ***

  “Your fucknut neighbor has done a slow drive-by past your house twice that I know of,” Natalie said as I entered my home that evening from the garage. She popped her head out of the kitchen and folded her arms against her chest.

  “You sure it was him?” I asked, setting my bag on a dining room chair. It was sad that I was so tired I couldn’t walk it another fifteen feet to my office.

  “He drives a white Prius, right?” She pointed straight ahead to the front window. “I saw him go by a half an hour ago and I swear to God he was staring at the house. Then he drove by ten minutes ago and did the same thing, pausing by my car for a few seconds.”

  I shook my head with irritation, not quite sure what the hell his problem was. But my head and neck hurt and my thoughts were more on the hot shower I wanted to take. I kissed Natalie hello
and headed for the hall.

  “Are you hungry?” she called after me.

  I stopped. Shit. She was in my kitchen, and I was suddenly aware of the smell of food… “Yeah, for sure,” I replied, forcing myself to smile as I turned around. My headache was so bad it seriously killed me to do that. “I just need a quick shower. Give me a few minutes.”

  She answered that was fine. I could feel a bit of tension ripple through me, and it wasn’t because of the soreness from hunching over designs all day this time. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was seriously annoyed that I hadn’t come home to an empty house. I just wanted to shower, drink some beer, order a pizza, and veg on the couch for a while.

  By myself.

  I’m sure I was being an ungrateful asshole. Natalie had put in the effort to cook for me again, so I should have been a bit more appreciative. My mind was seriously fried sometimes after a long day at work. People who work labor jobs think they’ve got it rough—which I totally understood—but most people didn’t realize how much you drain of yourself when your brain has to work one hundred percent for ten hours straight. Mental exhaustion was just as tiresome as physical exhaustion. I didn’t have to deal with particular safety issues or certain injuries from a laborious job, but there were some side effects from the one I had. Including, but not limited to: irritability, headaches, stress, and sometimes being short tempered with people because my mind was too tired to be patient. Other times I found myself zoning out while people were talking to me.

  I hadn’t realized how long I’d actually been in the shower until I came out to the kitchen. Natalie was nowhere to be found, but I saw a note on the counter that said dinner was in the fridge. I found it in a baking dish and lifted the plastic wrap. It looked like mushroom chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes.

  “Nat?” I called as I wandered into the front room. I peeked out the window and noticed her car was gone. Maybe the note on the counter didn’t get it through my thick head that she’d actually left.

  I stuck the food in the microwave and found my phone to text her. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was after eight already. Damn, my shower must’ve been over twenty minutes long.