Page 8 of Wrong Car, Wright Guy
“Oh, I’m happy to help,” Rayleigh says, contradicting herself for the sake of drawing his attention. “Here you are, Ruby.” She smiles up at Tanner as she slides a few torn sheets and a biro my way.
“Thank you, ah…”
“Rayleigh,” she says, pushing out her chest. “And I’malwayshappy to help, sir.”
His mouth kicks up at the side. “Tanner is fine,” he says, placing his hand on the back of my chair as he addresses the table. “In fact, I insist that everyone here drops any sir or Mr. Wright, nonsense. You call me Tanner. Or I won’t answer.” His hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes, leaving me to wonder if that means except me. Will he makemecall him sir?
Forcing myself to manually breathe when he releases me, I pick up my pen and do my best not to make any further waves or eye contact as Tanner moves to the whiteboard and we get down to official business, outlining the show’s main theme for the day and discussing production and strategies for the next week.
When the meeting draws to a close, Mr. Brooks stands to dismiss us like we’re at school and can’t go until teacher says. “We all know what we’re doing. Let’s make this show our best, people,” he booms. “Be ready to go on air inonehour.”
The whole room claps and cheers, infected by the excitement of being part of a show that could blow up the airwaves. Tanner Wright’s enthusiasm for his work and knowledge of station workings is impressive, to say the least. He presents his show ideas as social commentary that invites discussion. In the end, it’s almost possible to forget what he stands for, how inflammatory his show really is.Almost.
For me—the real me, not my wanton ovaries—it doesn’t matter how gorgeous he is, or how intelligently he addresses his team during meetings. There’s just no way I can forget the things I heard. This man’s show insulted my family member for ratings. Indirectly or not, I can’t reconcile with that.
Sitting back in my chair as the room empties out, I watch the sycophants of this world stop to talk orflirtwith the new talent, each of them hoping in some way to climb his ladder for their own gain.
The more I watch him, the more annoyed I become too. Gone is the lusty feeling that took over when we touched, and in its place, a deep-seated rage builds, one I know will protect me from this man’s charm from here on out. I must have some serious self-hatred going on to even allow myself to imagine getting horizontal with him after my initial reaction to his show’s content. But I am stronger than my basal urges, and this man is not for me. No matter how much money I’m getting by being here, I definitely need a new job.
Four
Ruby
“Ready?” Tanner looks at me after Rayleighfinallyexits the meeting room. It was kind of embarrassing watching her fawn all over him, even insisting Tanner take her number ‘Just in case there’s ever a news-related emergency’ :insert eyelash fluttering here: But at least it delayed my inevitable one-on-one time with him. It also gave me a moment to search employment listings for board operator positions at other radio stations, two of which I’ve bookmarked to look at later.
“As I’ll ever be,” I say, sliding my phone into my back pocket before collecting my things and following him out.
I try not to look at his ass, I really do. But that bespoke suit of his isbespokingto my ovaries as it hugs those tight buns. Once again, those traitorous lady parts cause a hormonal rush of attraction to skitter about beneath my skin. Ovaries are terrible decision makers. I can tell you that much for free.
Forcing myself to look elsewhere, I continue up to the next floor and along the narrow halls lined with photos of the station’s past and current on-air talent. There are decades’ worth of history here, and I’m struck wondering what happened to the host Tanner is replacing. Was he fired to make room?
“Here you go. Your new home away from home,” Tanner says with a smile, pushing open the door to his office for me to walk through. While the station boss occupies an office no bigger than a hole in the wall, the talent gets the outer offices with windows to the outside world and actual space to move about in. Tanner Wright, of course, was given the biggest one of all.
“Myhome away from home? This isyouroffice, buddy. I intend to spend as little time in here as possible.”And as soon as I find a new job, I won’t be spending time in here at all.
“That’ll be a difficult feat whenthat’swhere you’ll be working,” he says, pointing to a leather couch that’s pushed up against the floor-to-ceiling window. The office has been redecorated from what it was before, obviously to suit Tanner’s tastes. There’s a small sitting area—which is where he indicated my workspace will be—bookcases filled with vinyl albums and radio industry awards, a large cherry-oak desk with an ergonomic leather chair, and two smaller visitor chairs. It’s everything you’d expect for a big shot like Wright.
“Why can’t I work at the desk right outside?”
He picks up a rubber ball and tosses it against the thick glass windows, catching it on the rebound before repeating the process.Well, that’s not annoying.I hope those windows are unbreakable.
“Because I don’t want to have to call you in here every time I need to speak to you.”
“What about when you take meetings?”
He shrugs. “Sit in and take notes. You’re here to do everything I don’t have time for. Remembering the nuances of certain meetings is one of them.”
“So, what exactly are these new duties of mine to be?”
He catches the ball one handed and grins. “Well, if you can manage to stay upright instead of swooning at the sight of me—”
“I did not swoon,” I interrupt, my hands going immediately to my hips.
“It’s OK. I have that effect on women.” He smirks.
“Idid notswoon. Ichoseto sit under the table because I didn’twantto see you.”
“And the whole clinging to me when I helped you up part?”
