Page 11 of Wrong Car, Wright Guy
“Casey looked like she was ready to kill someone when she left your office just now.”
I chuckle and put my feet on the desk. “I gave her a ‘list of duties’. She’s out looking for a brand of lozenges that doesn’t exist.” I check my watch. “She has exactly ten minutes to get back here with it too.”
“I’d be careful not to push her too hard. She’s a bit of a spitfire, don’t want her to dump a hot coffee on your crotch.”
“I like her when she’s fiery, and I have good reflexes when it comes to protecting my balls. We’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know what game you’re playing with this girl. But we don’t need a lawsuit, Tanner,” he reminds me.
“I’m well aware. And I assure you, it’s just a bit of back and forth. Casey and I have…an understanding.”
Gerald presses his mustached mouth into a downward curve. “Like I said, we don’t need a lawsuit.”
“I won’t compromise the station.” And I mean that. I have every intention of being the perfect gentleman around Miss Casey—even if I do get off fighting with her. Thinking something and acting on it are two different things. And I’m nothing if not in control. In fact, I’malwaysin control. It’s one of my best qualities.
Gerald looks at me with a dubious lift of his brow. “I know this station is small-fry compared to the rest of your family’s holdings, but it’s everything to me.”
“I understand. And I give you my word that everything is above board. I’m not breaking any rules.”
“OK.” He releases a heavy breath as he stands to go. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Watching him leave, I take my feet off the desk and let out a sigh. I really don’t like being questioned, but where Gerald Brooks is concerned, I’ll let it go. This time. He’s given up a huge chunk of his stake in the station to get me in here and work a little Wright family magic. My family has been in the media game since newspapers were the only media around, growing with the times until we owned the maximum share allowed by government mandate. My parents bothhatethat I’ve made myself into a ‘personality’. But since I keep a low profile in my personal life, they…allowit. But it’s yet another reason I don’t want some messy office sex game coming to bite me in the ass. I may be a thirty-seven-year-old man, but I’m still mixed up in my father’s business. If I do anything to piss him off, he’ll pull this station out from under me faster than you can say, ‘whiplash’. Then he’ll make a bunch of threats I can’t afford to become a reality. There are important things going on behind the scenes that I don’t need him interfering with. That’s all until he steps down, of course. A day I’m sure every person in the Wright Media Group is looking forward to. Especially me, since there isn’t a lot of love lost between us.
Letting out a sigh, I’m just about to take my feet off the desk and check my emails for any important correspondence when the door to my office bangs open and a harried-looking Ruby steps through, a pharmacy bag in her hands and daggers in her eyes.
“I went to three different pharmacies and not one of them had heard of Throaty-Coatie lozenges. In fact, one of the pharmacy assistants outright giggled at me when I asked for them. So, I just bought every single brand they had. Pick one.” She speaks through her teeth as she moves over to my desk and dumps the paper bag in front of me. I try to keep the smirk off my face.
Making a dramatic show of looking at my watch, I slowly take my feet off the desk and stand. “On second thought, we can skip the lozenges,” I say, grabbing my coat off the back of my chair.
“What?” She looks at me incredulously. “I just rushed all over getting these so I’d be back on time and you’re not even going tolookin the bag?”
“I’m needed in the studio,” I say, heading for the door. “Are you coming?”
“You aresuchan asshole,” she growls, dumping the entire bag in the trash as she catches up to me.
“You decided I was an asshole before you even met me, Miss Casey. Who am I to deny you being right?” And as I walk ahead of her toward the studio, I can’t help but let the smile take over my face. I’m control and she is chaos.
I’m really going to enjoy working with Ruby Casey.
Six
Ruby
My fingers are itching and my toes are tapping. Standing in the back of the control room isnotwhere I’m used to being. I’m supposed to be on the boards, listening for the cues and making sure the show runs smoothly.Iwas the magic of radio. I was the one who created the seamless flow of voice, music and advertising. If I messed up, we sounded like amateurs. As a board operator I was important, useful. Now, I’m nothing more than a glorified water boy.
“Cue the music.” The producer adjusts the microphone on his headset, looking ready but nervous on this first show. “And we’re on in five, four, three…”
Despite not wanting to be a part ofThe Wright or the Wrong—the name they’re changingThe Drive Hometo—I can’t help but get caught up in the nervous tension in the air. And, as I look around, I wonder how many people in this room know what I know, that all of our jobs depend on the success of this show.
When I glance at Tanner in the studio, his expression is somber as he readies himself mentally to perform. And when I look over at Mr. Brooks, he’s chewing his nails down to the quick.Everything is riding on this doing well.The jobs of every person in this room depend on how well Tanner’s show performs.
The reality of that truth hits me in the chest and swirls around in my stomach like an overly spicy bowl of soup. None of this is about me and how I feel. It doesn’t matter what I think about the show, or whether I like Tanner Wright as a person. Fact is, the man is here to save us all from the unemployment line. Andmyjob, whether I like it or not, is to help him do that. Mr. Brooks has trusted me with the truth over the station’s struggles, and I let my outrage over Tanner’s past shows and my surprise at him being the Porsche guy get in the way of doing my job. Arguing with him and calling him a bigot, a boor and an asshole is probably the worst first impression—technically, second impression—that a girl can make. I’m going to have to swallow my pride and my objections and try harder.
Ugh. I hate swallowing anything bitter. It’s why I put so much Sweet’n’Low in my coffee.
When the On-Air light flicks on, I watch as Tanner comes to life at that microphone, talking with his hands even though he doesn’t need to. From the other side of the soundproof glass, I have no idea what he’s saying, but based on this morning’s meeting, the show is supposed to be about celebrities pushing their social or political agendas via social media platforms. From the uncomfortable side-eye going on and a few murmurs in the control room, I have a feeling Tanner has veered off script.
“Do you mind?” I ask Terry, the producer, pointing to a set of headphones in the charging dock.
