Love on the Air (10 page)

Christie, in turn, had learned a thing or two about
helping out at the front desk. "May I help you?"

"Is Rick here?" the woman said without preamble,
and those three words brought the woman and boy into
sharp focus.

She had never consciously tried to picture Rick's
ex-wife, but somehow, this was just what Christie
would have expected. She was tall, blonde and very
pretty, with light blue eyes. At the moment she wore
a preoccupied expression. The boy looked about six
years old, with light brown hair. A dinosaur backpack
hung loosely on his arm.

"Rick? He's out on a live appearance." Christie's
clerical smile never deserted her. "Is there anything I
can help you with?"

The blonde looked even more distracted. "When
will he be back?"

Christie glanced at her watch, and remembered she
was well aware what time it was: ten minutes before
she was due to go on the air. "The remote ends at two,
and it's just a few blocks away. I imagine about fifteen
minutes."

"Oh." The woman put her hands on the little boy's
shoulders. "I have to get back from my lunch break.
Can I leave him with you?"

As if he were a UPS package, she thought. Christie's gaze shifted down to the solemn little face. Blue
eyes, but darker than his mother's. "Would that be all
right with you, hon?" Christie asked.

The boy shrugged. "Sure."

"Thank you." The former Mrs. Fox squeezed his
small shoulder with a well-manicured hand and was
quickly out the door.

Well, this was awkward. Christie glanced at her
watch again, not surprised to find it was now eight
minutes to two. She smiled at the boy. "Have a seat."

He plunked down on the fat brown cushions of the
lobby couch, his short legs sticking out straight in
front of him. He clutched a small action figure in his
hand. Christie glanced down the hallway, but there
was no sign of Karen's imminent return. If she didn't
show up in the next few minutes, Christie decided,
she'd take him into the studio with her. He seemed
like a quiet little boy, and he'd probably been there
before.

Rick had never even mentioned his son. What kind
of a father was he?

"What's your name, honey?"

"Jason."

"Do you get to see your dad very often?"

The boy shrugged apathetically. "He's usually too
busy."

Christie's opinion of Rick plummeted. She sat down
on the couch beside Jason and turned her attention to
the figure in his hands, a familiar green-faced monster.
"That's a cool-looking Frankenstein monster there."

Jason turned his head toward her, noticeably more
animated. "His name's not Frankenstein," he said authoritatively. "That's the doctor's name."

Christie nodded, trying to match his seriousness.
"Of course. Everyone knows that."

The blue eyes got wider. "I've got a Wolfman, too,"
he said, reaching toward the floor for his backpack.
"And a mummy ..."

Within moments, Christie was admiring a collection
of half a dozen miniature monsters. When she named
each one correctly, Jason seemed impressed. "So," she
said, "do you take these guys with you everywhere
you go?"

Jason nodded. "I keep them on my nightstand at
home." He lowered his voice. "But I have to make
them face the other way before I go to sleep."

It was hard to keep a straight face, but Christie
wouldn't make light of such a confession for the
world. "I don't blame you. Monsters are cool, but I
wouldn't want them staring at me at night, either."

The shy grin he gave her in response was irresisti ble. Then the glass front door swung open, and Jason's
head snapped up.

"Uncle Rick!" The boy hurtled off the couch, and
suddenly he was seven feet tall as Rick hoisted him
up into his arms.

"Hey, bud!" Rick's grin was the most unreserved
she'd seen on him yet.

And Christie felt like a heel. She stood up, watching
the two a moment longer. She should head straight to
the studio.

"You got here early," Rick was saying. "What happened?"

"Aunt Sylvia dropped me off on her lunch break.
Mom wanted to take a nap at Aunt Sylvia's. She said
it was a long drive, but I slept through most of it."

Christie found herself mentally sketching possible
versions of the Fox family tree. Aunt Sylvia could be
Rick's brother's wife... Or his sister...

Jason swung around in Rick's arms and pointed at
Christie. "She knows all about monsters. She knows
Frankenstein is the doctor's name!"

"Pretty smart for a girl," Rick conceded. He looked
over at Christie. "Thanks for watching him."

"We're renting a monster movie tonight," Jason announced. The quiet, subdued little boy was gone, replaced by an armload of squirms. He twisted back to
face Rick. "Can she come, too?"

Out of the mouths of babes.

Rick's eyes met hers, over Jason's shoulder, and
they shared a moment of awkward hesitation. Through the silence that hung in the air, Christie could have
sworn they were thinking the same thing.

They had a six-year-old chaperone. What could be
safer?

Rick gave her a slight nod, and she smiled. "I'll
bring the popcorn."

Christie rang the bell of Rick's apartment and
waited, her arm curled around a large bottle of cola.
After working just a few feet across from him for a
week, she shouldn't be nervous. It was no big deal.
They were just friends. Increasingly good friends, over
the past few days. But this was a new context, and
one she wasn't sure she was ready for.

She didn't have long to prepare, because the door
swung open, and there he was.

Not fair. He'd changed into jeans and a blue sweatshirt, the first time she'd seen him so casually dressed.
His smile was relaxed, his thick brown hair slightly
disheveled, and all traces of the boss were gone. It
was that easy for men. Throw on some comfortable
clothes, add an easy smile, and be transformed into
serious hugging material.

Friends weren't supposed to look this good.

"Come on in," he said, stepping back. "The pizza's
already here."

"Hi," she said, holding out the bottle of soda between them.

Rick took the bottle and closed the door. "Thanks."
Wait a minute. He'd shaved. In the past week, Christie
had gotten familiar with the light stubble that shadowed his face by the end of the day, and it was gone.
That was little more effort than necessary, and the realization pleased her more than it should. She
shouldn't want him to look nicer for her. She'd
thought about driving home to change, but there
wasn't really time, and a trip across the freeway would
make it look like she was trying too hard.

This would be complicated enough if they were just
playing a straight round of the dating game. But that
was exactly what they were trying not to do.

Jason came to the rescue, popping his head over the
back of the couch. "We got two pizzas!" he
announced. "We usually just get one. Only one's got
pineapples on it." He made a face.

"Ham and pineapple," Rick explained. "And the
other one's pepperoni. I forgot to ask what you liked."

"Perfect." The scenario couldn't have been more
natural. No candlelight seductions here; just two boys
and a movie. So what if one of them was full-grown
and gorgeous? Christie relaxed slightly, and held her
plastic grocery bag aloft. "Microwave popcorn, as
promised. Now, do you know the secret ingredient?"

"If you say diet butter spray I'm going to kill you."

"Just the opposite. M&Ms." He looked at her quizzically. Christie explained, "You throw them on as soon as the popcorn comes out of the microwave.
They get all warm and melty on the inside." He still
looked dubious. Just about everyone did, until they
tried it. "Think about it. If you want to give it a try,
I'll make a believer out of you."

Rick relieved her of the grocery bag and led her
toward the kitchen, where two pizzas waited on the
counter. While she helped herself to a slice of each,
Christie glanced around Rick's apartment. No sign yet
of any Christmas decorations, but then, it was only the
first week of December. It was one of those apartments
with no dividing wall or doorway between the living
room and the kitchen; the carpet simply gave way to
tile. A piano in the corner of the living room drew her
eye. Incongruously, an exercise treadmill stood at the
opposite end of the room.

She couldn't help herself. As he led her into the
living room, she said, "Who decorated your place,
Mozart or Gold's Gym?"

Rick laughed. "You know what they say. Out of
sight, out of mind. I spend most of my time out here,
and when the treadmill was in the bedroom, it was too
easy to ignore. The piano-" He paused beside it, resting a hand on the keys to play a chord absently. It
seemed as much an extension of him as the controls
in the studio. He shrugged. "The piano belongs in the
middle of the house."

Christie glanced at the sheet music resting on the
music stand in front of the keys. It was an Andrew
Lloyd Webber score. She would have loved to hear it,
but she was sure Jason wouldn't appreciate it. "I'm jealous. I've always wanted to learn an instrument. I
just never had the knack."

"Persistence." Another light chord. "Plus, when I
was little, I could never stay away from it. By the way,
mind if we eat in the living room?"

Christie laughed. She was already parking on the
couch. "This is where everybody is, right?"

A plate of half-demolished pizza sat on the coffee
table in front of Jason. Another plate sat, untouched,
to Jason's right, apparently waiting for Rick. That left
a space for Christie on Jason's left. She wondered if
it was by foresight or by chance that he'd put Jason
in the middle. Either way, she decided, definitely a
good move.

As she sat down and started to set her plate on the
coffee table, Rick scooped a large, squatty glass bowl
off the table. "Sorry. You probably don't want turtles
on the dinner table."

"Turtles?" Christie straightened and peered into the
bowl before Rick could spirit it away. Sure enough,
two small green turtles ambled over the rocks resting
half-in, half-out of shallow water. "I didn't think you
could get those any more."

"Shh. The state of California says no, but some
swap meet vendors aren't so fussy." Rick set the bowl
on an end table, then took another glance inside it.
"Jason," he said impatiently. "There are only two in
here again."

Christie had been about to sit back down. Her knees
snapped straight. She looked on the couch cushions
behind her, then on the floor near her feet, before both Rick and Jason burst out laughing at her. She looked
from one to the other, realizing she'd been had.

"There only are two!" Jason giggled at her.

His giggle was too infectious; Christie couldn't
glare at him. Instead, she aimed her glare at Rick, but
the teasing light in his eyes was just as hard to resist.
They'd caught her in that quintessentially female fear
of crawly things.

"I was just afraid I'd crush one," she said lamely.

After they'd eaten, Rick let Christie take over the
popcorn preparation in the kitchen. He started to load
their plates into the dishwasher, then thought better of
it. He wasn't sure how many dirty dishes were already
inside, or how long they'd been there. They might
have gotten pretty disgusting by now.

Christie started the microwave while Jason watched
her expectantly. "How often do you guys do this?"
she asked.

"Once or twice a year." Rick tried for a simplified
version of the family situation. "His mom comes out
from Las Vegas to see her sister, and I borrow Jason
for a night while they go shopping, or see a movie."
He saw the curiosity in Christie's face, and appreciated
the way she restrained it. Some details were best not
discussed in front of six-year-old boys.

"I'm off school 'til after Christmas," Jason said.

"That's a nice long break," Christie said.

"It's a year-round school," Jason said, making another one of his faces. The faces had been coming fast
and furious tonight, all in an effort to impress Christie.
Rick knew a crush when he saw one.

He couldn't blame Jason. As Christie poured the
popcorn into the oversized bowl on the counter, he
watched the way the fluorescent light hit the crown of
her head, adding a soft halo of warm red highlights to
her hair. Rick took a deep breath. The situation was
about as G-rated as it could get. But she'd fit so readily
into the homey routine, it felt dangerously cozy.

She raised her head, and Rick gave himself a mental
shake. If she had STATION PROPERTY emblazoned
across the front of her yellow sweater, it would help.
"Now," she said, holding the bag of M&Ms over the
bowl. "With or without M&Ms?"

Jason jumped up and down. "M&Ms! M&Ms!"

Rick heaved an elaborate sigh. "I know when I'm
licked."