Morning Man (2 page)

“I don’t get mad, I get even, CJ. So if I were you, I’d sleep with one eye open.”

Four days later, Dayna was no longer numb from CJ’s revelation, thanks to the ache in her lower lumbar from sleeping on that damn lumpy pullout. There was also the pressing matter of her grumbling stomach that needed to be taken care of.

“I’m going to finish my lunch, Willie. See you at the top of the hour,” she said, reaching for the studio door. Before she tugged the handle, it flew open and she instinctively jerked back to spare her face from being flattened. “Hey, watch it!”

“Oof!” A loud grunt came from the other side.

The second time the door opened, Dayna kept back a safe distance. In poked an ox of a man with a close-cut beard and dark blonde hair peeking out from under his trucker hat. She was mesmerized by the sheer size of him, at least six-three with broad, lumberjack shoulders, before she fell into the depths of his gorgeous, lake blue eyes.

“Jeez, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said with a startled smile. “I wasn’t going to need my nose for the rest of the day anyway.”

“I’m real sorry. I thought Willie was the only one in here,” he said in a husky baritone that made her palms sweat.

“Have you two met?” Willie asked from behind the console. “Dayna Cook, this is Tack Collins, co-host of
The Rise Guys
morning show.”

Her stomach dropped.
Ohhh, so you’re the infamous Tack Collins I’ve been hearing about.

“Hey there, sugar,” he said with swagger as he looked her up and down. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

The girls around here have already warned me all about you, Don Juan, so forget it,
she wanted to say, but thought better of it. “Hi.”

“Dayna started Monday,” Willie explained. “She does the news noon to seven.”

Tack flashed a sexy, roguish grin. “Well, that explains why we’ve missed each other. I get off at ten every morning.”

I hear you get off every chance you get
. She bit her tongue as she glanced up at the oversized clock on the wall. “It’s after twelve.”

“Uh, yeah, I know. I just came back to cut some promos.”

“Please don’t let me keep you.” She pulled back on the door handle. He propped it open with one hand, forcing her to duck under his brawny arm to exit.

She returned to her work station, chewing through her sandwich while scrolling through a list of wire stories for the one o’clock news package. After another bite, she highlighted a piece on a new recycling program when she was startled by the rustling of newspaper behind her. She turned and caught Tack rearranging the sections of that day’s
Dispatch
she had purposefully strewn about. “What are you doing? I need those.”

“Making room to get better acquainted, little lady.” He looked down with those entrancing baby blues that had surely hiked up more than a few skirts in their time.

She snatched away the metro section before he crushed it under his bulk as he leaned on her desk. “Sorry, but I can’t stop to chit-chat. I have work.”

“So, Willie tells me you’re new in town. From Buffalo?” He folded thick, tanned forearms leading up to a pair of massive biceps.

Dayna caught herself staring before she yanked her attention back to the desk. “I worked in Buffalo for a few years, but I’m from someplace else you’ve never heard of.”

“Try me.”

She shunned his obvious attempt at distraction by swiveling to face her computer again. “A town called Kingston, about fifty miles south of Albany.”

“You’re right. I’ve never heard of it, but I’ll bet it’s real pretty.”

“It is.” Her eyes stayed locked on the screen, hoping he’d take the hint and scram.

“Haven’t been upstate myself, although a few years back, I went to the Big Ap–”

“Look, I’m busy right now,” she snapped. “Can I ignore you some other time?”

“Ooh, you’re a real live wire,” he said, the surprise registering in his voice. “I like that.”

Her chair spun one hundred and eighty degrees. She leapt up to look him in the eye, easily managed given his slouched posture. “I know what you’re doing and you’re totally wasting your breath.”

He gave her a good ol’ boy smile. “What am I doing?”

“Turning on the charm,” she said. “I’ve worked with your type for eleven years. I’ve heard every line and know every trick you could possibly have up your sleeve.”

“You don’t know me yet, darlin’, but once you do, I think we could be real good friends.”

“By the way, I’m not real big on
darlin’
, or
sweetie
, or
baby
or
little lady,
for that matter. If you want to undress me, you can call me Dayna.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “If I want to
undress
you?”

“What?”

“You just said if I want to undress you I should call you Dayna,” he said. His gaze slipped down from her face and lingered on the front of her t-shirt.

Oh, real nice. “No, I didn’t. I said if you want to address… Never mind. Didn’t you say you had some voiceover work to do?”

“Yeah, but not ’til one o’clock.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, that’s when the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand’s pointed to the one.”

He smirked. “Thanks very much. I was going to take off, but seeing how much you’re enjoying my company, I think I’ll wait out the rest of my time right here.” His eyes trained on hers before straying to her chest again.

“Like what you see?” she sniped.

“Huh?”

She pointed to her face, wanting to embarrass the hell out of him for blatantly ogling. “My eyes are up here, asshole.”

“No, I wasn’t. I mean, yeah, I was, but–”

“You were checking me out this whole time, weren’t you?” She shook her head. “Well, don’t leave me in suspense. Whaddya think? Nice rack?”

“Great rack,” he said, rising to his full height and suddenly towering over her. “Too bad you went and slopped all that distracting mustard on it.”

Dayna looked down and saw a bright yellow glop sitting on her right boob. “Shit,” she grumbled, swiping at it with her thumb before diving for a tissue.

He leaned in as she futilely attempted to dab away the stain. “Word of advice? You don’t have to try so hard with me.”

“Come again?” She felt her eye start to twitch.

“Playing hard to get. See, I’ve worked with your type for twenty years,” he said, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. “I know every trick up your sleeve.” He tossed his head back, his Adam’s apple yo-yoing as he heartily laughed.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

“Luckily, I saw you coming with both eyes open. The girls in the traffic department warned me all about you. So did the one in accounting and the one in sales.”

“All the girls around here love me,” he said, arching one eyebrow wickedly. “And soon you will too, Daaay-na.”

She clenched her fists at her side. “Why, you cocky son of a–”

“You know, this isn’t the reaction I normally get. Most women are thrilled if Tack Collins makes a point of singling them out and talking to them.”

She shook her head. “You must be confusing real women for the ones who charge you six bucks a minute.”

“Now hold on…”

“Ahem. Is there a problem?” That stern voice came from station manager Bonnie McMulland.

“Bonnie! No, no problem.” Dayna flashed a reassuring smile toward the Dr. Ruth-sized dragon lady. “Sorry if we disturbed you.”

“Tack, what are you still doing here?” Bonnie asked.

“I’m waiting for Dub so we can cut next week’s promos.”

“Well, wait somewhere else, please. You’re obviously bothering Dayna.”

“Actually, boss, she’s the one bothering me. I just met the girl and already, she’s suffering from a feverish bout of Tack Attack. I practically had to pry her off me.”

Dayna rolled her eyes. “Dream on, cowboy.”

Bonnie’s face puckered. “Cowboy?”

“She’s been staring at my chest like I’m nothing but a sex object,” he said, draping a beefy forearm over his pecs. “I feel so violated.”

Dayna had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “God, you’re arrogant. I’m surprised you actually found a hat to fit such a big head.”

He tipped the brim of his cap. “That’s ’cause I got it from the same place I buy my underwear.”

“Really? I didn’t think they sold hats in the ladies’ department.”

“Enough!” Bonnie squinted hard, giving them each a once over. Whatever she was thinking, it caused her eyebrows to knit into an intense frown. “Both of you, in my office. Now.”

The boss turned on her heel and marched to the end of the hallway, the wayward pair loping close behind.

“Thanks a lot,” Dayna huffed under her breath. Just marvelous. Third day on the job and she was already getting hauled in for a reprimand.

* * * *

Certain types of women brought out the devil in Tack, and…oh, who was he kidding? All women brought out the devil in him. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been blessed with a big mouth that either got him into trouble or got him laid, which inevitably led to a hell of a lot more trouble anyway. That’s why he’d steered clear of messy entanglements except those without strings attached. In his mind, all persons of the female persuasion, no matter how soft and curvy and sweet, fell into two troublesome categories: the headaches and the heartaches.

Dayna Cook appeared to come with headache and heartache as a package deal. If they hadn’t literally run into each other, he probably could’ve avoided her too, but there she was in front of him, with those big, honey brown eyes, great mouth and golden waves of hair falling around her heart-shaped face. Damn. It would’ve been fun getting into trouble with this one. It would’ve also been smarter if he’d kept his distance. But, true to form, he couldn’t keep from flapping his gums. And then once she got all feisty and rosy-cheeked, standing up to him like she would have none of it, all bets were off.

“Sit,” Bonnie commanded as she walked around her desk. Before Dayna chose a spot, Tack plunked down in the middle of the boss’s plump, cream-colored couch and patted the cushions on either side in invitation for her to sit thigh to thigh. She snarled her lip adorably and then sat in one of the armchairs facing the boss’s desk.

Bonnie held up a piece of paper. “Do you know what this is?”

“It looks like an Arbitron report,” Dayna replied. Goody two shoes.

“And do you know what it says?” She paused, but didn’t wait for either of them to answer. “Our ratings have slipped eleven percent from last quarter. Eleven percent. If that wasn’t bad enough, we’re losing listeners in the key twenty-five-to-fifty-four demographic.”

“Yeah, but we’ve always been up and down,” he jumped in. “We’ll rebound by the fall book.”

Bonnie picked up another piece of paper. “You see this report? It says that we’ve lost more female listeners in the morning show than in any other daypart.”

So what? Numbers didn’t scare him in a business where they fluctuated constantly. “It’s a blip.”

“It’s a trend,” Bonnie countered. “And if you don’t do something to turn it around immediately, God help me, it’s going to be a pink slip with your name on it.”

She meant business and Tack knew it. Unlike most guys he’d run with in the business, he hadn’t been fired once since his first day on air, and he wasn’t about to spoil an immaculate employment record when he was
this close
to grabbing the brass ring.

“But boss, The Rise Guys have always skewed male. We’re country. We’re a little blue collar. It’s just a man’s man kind of show.”

“It’s a sausage fest, that’s what it is,” she grumbled. “You and Dub are funny, but funny isn’t keeping women from turning the dial to Mix Ninety-six. They want sexier, snappier, more compelling content. They want to be informed as well as entertained. They want…” Bonnie looked straight at Dayna, “to hear the voice of someone they can relate to.”

“Whoa,” she said with a startle that sent her deeper into her chair. “What are you saying?”

“I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out a way we can save what’s left of our female audience. The moment I heard you two out in the hall, the answer was clear.”

Bonnie rose from behind her desk and went to the massive board with the station schedule blocked out in dayparts. She opened a marker and, like a coach in a locker room, created a strategic configuration of lines and arrows to map out the next play. “I’m putting Dayna into the morning show with you, and moving Dub Birmingham to midday.”

“B-but Dub and I have been The Rise Guys for three years,” he said, panicked at the thought of losing his trusty wing man. “Are we supposed to just forget that and suddenly become The Rise Guy and Some Random Chick?”

“Gee, thanks.” Dayna shot him a glare.

He apologized with a half smile and an I-didn’t-mean-that-quite-the-way-it-came-out shrug.

“We need to keep our women listeners, bring back the ones that left and hopefully, attract a new audience to the morning slot,” Bonnie said. “This isn’t rocket science, Tack. You know the most effective way to do that is by adding a female personality to the show.”