Page 18 of Wrong Car, Wright Guy
“I need my old job back.”
I get to the office early Monday morning to avoid everyone who works the evening show, and time my visit to Mr. Brooks’s office, so I catch him returning from the breakfast show’s meeting.
“No,” he replies immediately. I follow him inside his office before he can slam the door in my face.
“No? But you can’t say no. I’ll quit if you say no.”
“You can’t quit without giving notice. You’re under contract.”
“Then I’ll give notice. How long do you need?”
“Why don’t you look at this first?” He slaps an entirelynewcontract down in front of me.
“What isthis?”
“The response to your on-air appearance on Monday has the internet talking up a storm. Listeners love you. We’re making you co-host and calling the new show ‘Beauty and the Bigot’. It’s perfect.”
I pull my head back. “Beauty and theBigot?What does Tanner have to say on this?”
He looks at me as though a second head has appeared on my shoulder. “It washisidea. Sign the damn contract and be back here by lunch. You’re one of the decision makers now, so you need to get in early.”
“Can I at least read the contract before I sign more hours of my life away?”
“Fine. Just go and read it someplace else. I’ve got shit to do.” He’s trying to look scary, but I don’t miss the tiny glint of pride in his eyes. It has me smiling.
“Thanks, Gerry,” I say, giving him a wink as I tuck the contract under my arm and head to the office I share with Tanner, looking for somewhere quiet to read through the terms—I don’t want to get caught out with any clauses like I did last time.
When I push through the door and flick the light on, I get the shock of my life when Tanner looks up from his desk. “Do you mind?”
“What the hell are you doing here?“ I gasp, my hand clutching my chest.
He lifts his brow, his features looking sharp in the harsh lamplight he is working under. “Last I checked this wasmyoffice.”
“Technically, it’s also mine,” I say, my eyes raking over him as he flicks the lamp off and scrubs a hand across his stubbled jaw.Has he been here all night?
“Not at this time of the morning,” he replies. “What are you doing here?”
“I was planning to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m always here early.” He shrugs as he levels me with his bluer than blue eyes.God, he’s stunning. Now that the lamplight is off, the morning light coming in through the windows is softening his features instead of making him look severe. To look at him now takes my breath away. And I catch myself imagining what it’d be like waking up next to him after an exhausting night of— “Why are you here?”
I blink a couple of times, feeling the pink touch my cheeks as I push the images from my head. “Oh. I came to see, Mr. Brooks.” I hold up the contract.
“Don’t tell me you’re pissed about that.”
“I’m not pissed. But in future, I’d appreciate you discussing these things with me before altering my career path. I’m not your little redhead.”
“My what?” His eyes flash and his brow pinches so fast the whole mood in the room changes. I’ve obviously hit a nerve.
“Your date? You mentioned twice last week that you had a date with a redhead.”
“My dating life is none of your concern.” I lift my hands to show that I understand. Then he takes a single breath before picking up his pen and returning to whatever is in front of him. “Sign the contract, Ruby. The audience liked you, and it’s good for the station to give the audience what they want. Don’t you agree?” He lifts his eyes to mine again.
“Well…yes, but…” I shift on my feet.
“But what?”
“You should’ve asked me.”
