Charlie All Night (10 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Cruise

BOOK: Charlie All Night
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*  *  *
The calls started coming in before Harry went off the air, and Allie
listened as Harry handled them
with an intelligence that was
eye-opening. Then right before the news, he said, "Well, I want to
thank
all of you who called in on the city building and remind you that
Charlie Tenniel is up next, right after
the news, and he's the man to
talk to about this mess. If anybody can save the city building, Charlie
can, even if he has to work all night. Which, actually, he does. The
news is next, folks, and then...
Charlie All Night!"
Charlie frowned at Allie. "Charlie All Night?"
Allie shrugged, trying to look innocent. "Harry and I thought it was
catchy."
"Knock it off, Allie," he said, and she batted her eyes at him, too
happy with the way things were
going to care if he was mad or not.
When he took the booth over, Allie met Harry coming out.
"You were good tonight," she told him. "That was a nice intro for
Charlie, but you were really good before that, too."
"I thought you didn't like the howling."
"I hate the howling." Allie folded her arms. "Why don't you just talk
like you did tonight to those
people on the phone?"
"Because usually there aren't any people on the phone." Harry snorted,
and Allie wasn't sure whether
his contempt was for her or for himself.
'I'm not Charlie, honey. I don't do that philosophical stuff."
Fighting the urge to point out that Charlie had a way to go before he
posed a major threat to Plato,
Allie followed him out into the hall.
"Harry, you don't have to be Charlie. Just be yourself. I thought
about this today. Talk about things you like..
like... cars."
Harry stopped so suddenly she bumped into him. "Cars?" He considered it
and shook his head before ambling down the hall again. "Nah."
"
You
could make it work,
Harry." Allie said, still pursuing him. "You.
know a lot about cars and
stereos and guy things."
Harry stopped again and Allie bumped into him again. "Guy things? Cut
me a break."
"Harry."
The exasperation in
her voice must have gotten to him because
he turned around.
"You can do this." she said slowly and distinctly. "I
will help you."
Harry shook his head at her. "If anybody could, you could, Al, but I
don't think so. I'm just not
star material."
"Yes, you are," Allie said, but he turned away again. "Wait a minute."
She caught his arm.
"How's Sam?"
Harry shrugged again. "I got a little more formula down him. Not much.
I don't think he's going
to make it."
"Oh, no," Allie said and went back to the booth to see if she could
tickle some more calories into
the puppy.
*  *  *
By one, Charlie had logged twenty-one calls: sixteen in favor of the
city building, three in favor of impeaching the mayor and two women in
favor of dating Charlie when he got off work. He was
pretty sure he'd
contained the controversy, but he was also pretty sure that the mayor
and his
brother had just lost a ton of money thanks to him.
So much for laying low.
Allie waved to him through the studio window. "Do you need me to stay
around?" she said into
her mike.
She looked tired, so Charlie shook his head at her. "Just shut the
phones down. Sam and I are going
to take it easy for the rest of the
night." He tried to tickle the puppy into taking the bottle again, but
it was no go.
He hated it, but they were going to lose him.
Allie came in to check on Sam before she left. "How is he?" she asked,
but the tape was done, and Charlie set up the next triple play: Billy
Joel, Garth Brooks and Tony Bennett. He listened to "River
of Dreams"
begin before he turned back to the Allie and the puppy.
"Not good." He took off the headphones and put them on the counter next
to the basket. "See?" He tickled the puppy's chin and Sam moved his
mouth weakly once. "I can't get him to take much.
Harry said the same
thing. I don't think he's going to make it, Al."
Allie lifted the tiny body out of the basket and put him on the counter
to rub his stomach. "Maybe
he's too warm. Maybe it makes him lethargic."
"He's a puppy. He should probably be in an incubator."
Sam began to move his legs feebly against the counter.
"He's cold," Charlie said, but Allie held the bottle to his mouth and
Sam took it, making feeble sucking sounds, gulping down formula.
Charlie put his head down next to Sam, pushing the headphones away.
"I'll be damned. He's taking it.
No, wait, he's stopped."
"Wait a minute. Move your head." Allie shoved his head away from the
puppy and pulled the
headphones back close, and Sam began to suck
again, weakly, but with a good rhythm.
"I don't believe it," Charlie said. "He likes Billy."
"Maybe it's the beat." Allie smiled down at the puppy. "Maybe it sounds
like his mom's heart or something."
"Well, whatever it is, it's working." Samson sucked on like a champ and
Charlie sat back, more
relieved than he'd realized. Maybe Sam would
make it, after all.
Allie bent over the puppy, cooing encouragement. Her rump was right in
front of him. Practically an invitation. He pulled her into his lap,
careful not to knock the bottle out of her
hand or out of Sam's mouth, and wrapped his arms around her waist from
behind. Her blue sweater was made of some
kind of soft bubbly yarn, and
she was warm against him, and he buried his face in the back of her
neck and smelled the flowers in her shampoo. He spoke to her, mainly
because he wanted to hear
her voice. "How's the show so far?"
"Terrific, as always." Allie concentrated on Sam. "I can't believe
this. He's drinking like a
fraternity boy."
"What do you mean, 'as always'" This is just the second time we did
this." Charlie tightened his
arms at the thought.
"Well, we're good." Allie's voice went cold. "He's stopping. What's
wrong?"
Charlie reached around her for the headphones and listened. "He must
not like 'Friends in Low Places.' It's one of my favorites."
"Well, play Billy again, for heaven's sake." Allie squirmed around on
his lap, exasperated. "He drinks when you play Billy."
Charlie swallowed and put the headphones back. "Stop moving around on
me like that. It's distracting."
"Play Billy." Allie's voice brooked no disagreement.
"Burp him until this is done and then I'll put Billy back on again,"
Charlie said, surrendering. "Does is have to be 'River of Dreams?"
"I don't know." Allie bent over the puppy, and Charlie let his hand
trail down her back. "Better not
mess with success. Play Billy."
"Right," Charlie said, and when Garth was done, he let Billy rip again,
and Sam went back to the
bottle like a trouper.
Good thing it was a good song.
By the third play-through, Sam had fallen asleep and was back in his
basket.
"I bet if we put headphones on his basket, he'd do better." Allie
started to get up. "There's a pair—"
"Wait a minute." Charlie pulled her back into his lap, and when she
turned to protest, he kissed her, wanting her softness against him and
her mouth on his for just a moment. She relaxed against him,
and he
felt her tongue tease his mouth, and then he grinned and opened to her,
cupping her breast
hard in his hand while he bent her head back with
the kiss and she wrapped her arms around him.
"Hello," she said a few minutes later, coming up for air. "What was
that
for? I'm in favor of it, but
what was that for?"
"That was for me," Charlie told her, trying to get his breath back. "Go
get those headphones now,
or I'll take you right here in the booth."
"Oh." Allie stayed where she was for a moment and then grinned when he
didn't move.
"Talk's cheap, Tenniel."
He grabbed for her then but she slipped away from his hands, and he let
her go because the song
was over, and also because he had every
intention of plying her with Chinese food later and of making love to
her until she screamed.
*  *  *
"This is great," Allie said at two-thirty as they split a double order
of garlic chicken, eating from the
carton with two forks this time.
"The show was really good tonight, right up to the end. I knew you
were
going to be a hit, but I had no idea it would be this fast. And I
haven't even started on the
publicity yet. This is wonderful."
Charlie stabbed his fork into the chicken. "No, it's not. I told you, I
don't want to be famous, so just knock it off."
Allie gave an exasperated sigh. He really was impossible. It didn't
matter because she was going to
make him famous, anyway, but he was
still impossible. "What's wrong with you? Why don't you
want to be a
success?"
Charlie ignored her. "Dump some rice in here the garlic's really heavy."
"I bet I know what's wrong." Allie tipped the rice carton into the
chicken.
"I do, too. There's not enough rice."
"No, you're afraid of success." Allie patted his hand, suddenly
sympathetic. After all, he had hit the
big time pretty quickly. "It's
very common, you'll get used to it. Trust me."
Charlie moved the carton away from her, holding it behind him. "No, I
won't. Look at me."
Allie obediently looked up at him, her fork poised in case he moved the
carton back .
"I do not want to be successful," he said, speaking slowly and
distinctly. "Successful screws with
people's heads and makes them think
they're above the law and can get away with anything. I'm not
like
that. I am not going to promote the show. I am not going to have my
picture taken. And I am not going to ask any more questions that will
get me in trouble. I just want a nice, quiet show. I'm a nice, quiet
guy, and I want a nice, quiet show. Is that too much to ask?" He glared
at Allie and she glared
back at him, annoyed that he could be so wimpy.
"No," she snapped. "Certainly not. Anything I can do to help you on the
road to obscurity?"
"Yes." Charlie moved the carton back within her reach. 'Give me
something nonexplosive to talk
about tomorrow. Something nice and
innocuous."
Allie stabbed her fork into the chicken. "Stewart drinks coffee from
the break-room urn and doesn't
pay for it and then he blames the money
shortage on the technicians." She chomped down on her
forkful of chicken
and gazed balefully at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Well, that is fascinating, but I don't think
Greater Tuttle
will be
interested.
Come on, cooperate. You're my producer, produce. And move over. You're
hogging the bed."
Charlie shoved her over with his hip and looked into the carton. "Oh,
there's rice on the bottom. Maybe we should dump this stuff out on
plates."
"Whatever you want, Oh Great One."
"I want another topic for tomorrow's show," Charlie said.
"Okay, how about..." Allie leaned over his shoulder and scooped up some
more chicken, trying to
think of something stupid for him. "Sometimes
Grady does his show stoned."
Charlie visibly corraled his patience. "I noticed. But I don't think
Tuttle will think that's news, either.
I need a real topic here. Stop
sulking and give me some help."
Allie shrugged. "Okay. The streetlights in Eastown are still out."
"Allie..."
She waved her fork at him. "You said, innocuous."
"Innocuous, not brain-dead." Charlie took the carton back. "I will let
you have more of this when you come up with something good. Something
people will talk to me about, so I won't get fired, but that
does not
involve newspaper headlines."
Allie looked at the carton with longing. "It's mean to keep moving
the carton away. You know how
I feel about food."
"Then think fast." He took a huge forkful of chicken and savored it
while she watched.
"Food." She moved closer to him with her fork. "You were all mopey
about the little grocery stores
going out of business when we took you
on that tour the other night."
Charlie moved the carton farther out of her way as he ate. "That's the
best you can do?"
Allie nodded. "You wanted boring. Do a nostalgia thing. All we have now
all over town are those
damn FoodStops. Fluorescent lighting and house
brands that taste like dog food." She eyed the carton.
"I wonder if Samson would like Chinese? He
was eating like a trooper when I left. Do you suppose anybody's noticed
we're playing Billy Joel every hour?"
Charlie ignored her, lost in thought, and Allie grabbed the carton
while he was distracted. "It doesn't sound very exciting," he said.
"Maybe I'd do it."
Allie shook her head and scooped up some more chicken. "You're
worthless. I could make you the biggest thing on midnight radio, but
no, you want things quiet." She passed the carton over to him
in
disgust.
Charlie took another huge forkful and handed the carton back. "Old-time
grocery stores." He chewed
and then nodded. "All right. I'll do it.
You can have the rest of that."
Allie poked her fork in the carton. "All that's left is rice."
"Too bad." He took the carton out of her hands and put it jn the floor
with their forks. Then he sat
back and put his arm iround her. "Now
what are we going to do?"
Allie folded her arms. "You know, we're getting into a rut lere."
"I know." Charlie leaned over her. She slid down into the bed away
from him, and he followed her
down, pinning her o her pillow. "A little
take-out Chinese, a little interesting conversation, a little great
sex." He slipped her nightgown off ler shoulder and kissed her neck.
"My kind of rut."
She savored his arm around her and his lips on her shoulder, but she
kept her voice cool. "I have to
get up and brush my teeth now. And then
I think we should just sleep for once. We need some variety. This is
getting boring."
"Variety." He moved his hand up her side, and she shivered. "Variety,"
he went on. "Fine. Tomorrow,
I'll bring in a goat. But for tonight, I
think we..."
Allie pulled away a little. "A goat?"
He blinked at her, surprised. "You've never done the goat trick?"
"The goat trick?" Allie blinked back at him. "Of course. I've done the
goat trick. Thousands of
times."
Charlie sat up. "What? I didn't think you were the kind of woman who'd
do the goat trick thousands
of times. I'm shocked."
"You'll get over it," Allie said.
"I'm over it now." Charlie moved back on top of her and kissed her,
deep and long.
"Grocery stores are a dumb topic," Allie said when she came up for air.
"Quiet, woman," Charlie said and kissed her speechless.

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