Page 18 of Ten Rules for Faking It
“I changed the password,” Chris said.
Everly frowned. “What? Why?” He didn’t think she could do her job.
“There was a lot of correspondence, and I figured you didn’t need to read through all of it.”
“It’s my job,” she said, stiffening.
His gaze was… assessing. Like he was measuring her for something she didn’t know about. “It’smyjob, as station manager, to step in when I see fit. To make decisions on behalf of my staff and this station.”
She nodded, feeling chastised.
“None of this is her fault,” Stacey said.
Chris leaned back like he was growing more comfortable with the conversation as Everly went in the opposite direction.
“I didn’t say it was. But here’s the thing… your show hasn’t been producing the numbers we need. Then there was”—his lips curving up—“the Unfortunate Incident. Listeners are invested. You wouldn’t believe some of the messages and emails. Some have offered to take care of Simon for you.”
“Hell, I offered to do that,” Stacey interrupted.
Everly glared at her. Now wasn’t the time for jokes.
Chris carried on, looking directly into Everly’s eyes. “Others have sons or nephews they’d like to introduce you to. Several men called the station to tell you they’d be happy to go on a date with you anytime. Some people left irate messages about fidelity and loyalty. There were over two hundred calls just to wish you a happy birthday.”
Everly felt her face flame. Chris got up quickly and moved to sit on the edge of his desk, directly in front of them. The rest of Everly heated up inexplicably.
Stacey, however, bounced in her seat. “Wow. That’s wicked cool.”
When she looked at Everly expectantly, Everly could only shrug because she wasn’t sure which part was cool. She didn’t want anyone to take care of anything—she realized this morning that she couldn’t have been all that invested if her heart didn’t even feel bruised from the breakup. Her pride had been knocked around, but that was different. She also didn’t want to meet any of their listeners’ sons or nephews out of misguided pity. If she said yes to that kind of arrangement, her dad would be all over setting her up with “a stand-up man” from his law firm. No, thank you. Though the idea that so many people rallied on her behalf was, as Stacey said, wicked cool. And interesting. They worked their butts off to gain an audience and higher ratings. One unforeseen mishap and now they were popular? She could get her own dates.But you’ve already acknowledged you need to branch out. Try something new.Suddenly, pitching the podcast seemed like child’s play in comparison to where she thought this was headed. Also, she didn’t need birthday wishes from strangers, but that part was also kind of sweet.
Chris blew out a hard breath like he was bracing for something, and that’s when Everly’s nerves really bit into her skin. He was going somewhere with this.
“The owner of the station wants your segment—wants both of you—cut.”
Everything slowed down, and she felt like she was watching from afar, seeing her own jaw drop, feeling the panic coursing through her, easy to see on her face. Beside her, Stacey blinked rapidly.
One hand gripped the edge of his desk, but he held up the other, and his words came out hurried. “Let me just tell you what I’m thinking before either of you freak out.” Clearly, theyboth looked like freaking out was a possibility. “I told him I think it’s the wrong move, but he brought up the numbers, the low audience, and he jumped all over the dead air like he was waiting for another reason. I’ve been here all night because I have an idea that I think will not only blow the ratings through the roof but possibly secure you the coveted morning spot.”
Rule five was being dropped in their lap.You’d have leverage to pitch the podcast.Her heart was beating too hard in her ears for her to fully process what he was saying.
“You want to fire me over fifteen seconds of dead air?” Stacey’s voice went hard.
Chris shook his head. “No. I don’t. I’m not going to. Honestly, it’s not about that. It’s the owner looking for an excuse. I have an idea that’ll put you both on the map and make it so you can ask for the moon.”
Everly breathed in and out slowly, tapping her fingers against her thigh. Index, middle, ring, pinkie, back. Repeat. “I don’t want to be on the map, and I don’t want the moon. I just want to do my job.”
Chris turned his body so it felt like the two of them were in an intimate and private conversation. Like the space between them diminished into nothing. Her stomach flipped like a fish out of water.
“I know, Everly. But the bottom line is, we have to do something. I think both of you are great, but unless we come up with something, he’s going to use the other day as an excuse to can you both.”
“He can’t do that,” Stacey said, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring down her nose at him.
“When you guys signed the new contract, it explicitly stated that he could. For the betterment of the station, numbers, or listener enjoyment. He’s a businessman. His bottom line is money.”
Of course it was. That was the whole point of owning a business—to profit. She understood that; it’s where the line “Itisn’t personal” stemmed from. She and Stacey were nobodies.Not to Chris. He’s got an idea to avoid this.
Chris’s eyes darkened, darted away, and then back. “Now, will you hear me out?”
Stacey leaned around Chris to catch Everly’s hand. “Breathe, babe. Let’s just see what he’s proposing, and if we don’t like it, we’ll go and see how he does covering the spot this morning on his own.”
