Page 55 of You Spin Me

I can’t exactly go around asking,Hey, I ran into a guy who has terrible scars on one side of his face while the other is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Can you tell me his name?He was wearing a pale blue T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and black jeans. Black curly hair and tawny brown skin. Wideset hazel eyes framed by dark lashes. A well-kept goatee. If asked, I could describe every detail.

Eventually, I remember that I’m here to do a job, if only I could find the people I’m supposed to be working with. Thinking maybe that guy could give me directions if I could form words to ask, I carefully open the door again, only to find another dim hallway. At least there’s a window at the end of this one. When I get closer, not only do I see that the hall actually doglegs at the window, but there’s a brightly lit stage on the other side of the glass. On it, a man wearing a black hoodie sits behind a big mic. The Recording sign is lit, so I don’t want to disturb him. An exit sign beyond the curve beckons to me, so I drift in that direction, thinking it might lead to the other studios or to Jones’s office.

As I pass, I peek at the man onstage.

It’s him.

Before I can open the door next to the window, I hear Cal’s voice through the speakers above my head. His words match the moving lips of the man on the other side of the window. The man who fell through the door—that guardian angel—ismyguardian angel.

But Cal doesn’t work in the afternoon. Is it possible Jones set this whole thing up? Would he hire me to record an inane set of announcements anybody could read on a day that Cal happens to be working a day shift as some sort of crazy meet-cute?

The idea takes me on a rollercoaster of feeling from hurt to hope to just plain mad. This girl does not like to be manipulated.

The exit doorto the left takes me to another that leads me to Jones’s office. When I find him, my mouth launches right in. “Is Cal working right now?”

He just sighs.

“This is probably super unprofessional, but I have to know.”

Jones drops his head, shakes it once, meets my gaze and nods.

“How long is he here for?”

“I don’t know. He’s here to do an interview.”

I check the clock on the wall. It’s almost three. I have to leave at four to get to Chichester in time to get ready for the show tonight. I take a deep breath. I have spots to record and I have no idea how long it’ll take to do them. That has to be my priority. “I’m sorry I’m late but I’ve been wandering around lost for the past half hour. Can we get started?”

“You sure?”

“Well, I am wondering right now if you brought me in here for some reason other than my talent, but you know what? I really need the work, so let’s do it.”

After a brief moment where he looks like he’s going to confess to playing Cupid, he ushers me down yet another hallway and into a recording studio that’s about a tenth of the size of the one Cal was in. Jones adjusts the microphone and gives me headphones—which I put on correctly, thanks to Marnie—then settles in on the other side of the glass next to an engineer who moves sliders around and pushes buttons as I recite the copy. Once the levels are set, Jones gives me direction. “Let’s go for a brighter read. Like you’re telling a girlfriend about a party that she can’t miss.”

I do multiple takes of each short spot, so many that I’ve lost count. He and the engineer don’t seem frustrated, so I guess I’m doing what they want. It’s crazy how many different ways you can say the same two sentences.

I don’t let myself watch the clock. Jones knows that my out time is four, and I have a feeling he’d like me to talk to Cal before I leave. Unfortunately, the whole crazy scenario has tension creeping into my shoulders and neck, so I have to keep shaking out my arms and rolling my head around to get rid of it. Despite the fact that the work seems to be going well, the nervous buzz behind my solar plexus won’t go away.

I want to talk to Cal, and it’s the last thing I want to do. I’m afraid I’ll fall for him. I’m afraid the whole perfect fairy tale will fall flat if we actually spend any time face to face. But that moment between us was filled with more spark than anything I’ve ever felt for any man. At least in real life.

Butisit real life?

Finally, I must give them what they’re looking for. Or rather, listening for. When Jones gives me a salute and a thank you, I grab my stuff and sprint out the door.

This time, my body seems to know the way to the heart of the station, to the studio where my own personal superhero was perched on a stool in front of the mic that gives him his power.

But when I get there, he’s gone.

The place is empty.

When I turn around, I almost run smack into Jones. I didn’t even know he was on my heels.

Before he can say anything, a woman appears and hands Jones a stack of While You Were Out slips. “The two on top need callbacks before five.” She tips her head at the glassed-in studio. “Talia said Cal did an amazing job with the interview, so you’ve got to hear that, too.” She winces. “And don’t kill the messenger, but I’m supposed to tell you that you’re an asshole.”

Jones nods, his mouth pinched, and then turns to me. “I guess I deserve that.”

I take a deep breath, mirror his grim expression. “Thank you. For the work, that is. I appreciate it.”

The big hand clicks forward. “I have to go,” I say to Jones.

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