Talk to Me (5 page)

gentle, wil ya?”

This time Jamie laughed and so did he. This was the most fun he'd had on the air, besides the “Facial Hair Hal in Fame,” in months. And both

of those times were directly attributable to Jamie's presence. He didn't stop to consider that too closely, as the show had to go on. “Anyway, Jamie

is going to be doing some talking on the air, so I thought it would be nice to get to know her.” He put on his best game-show-host voice and said,

“Let's play ‘Twenty Questions.’ Ready, Jamie?”

She giggled, and he fought to keep the groan from rising out of his chest.

“Ready,” she said.

He sneaked another peek at her. He didn't know what it was about her, but he needed to know her.

“We'l start with some easy stuff. Where are you from?”

“Buffalo.”

“Ah, home of the Intimidators.”

“Yes, they're the team I grew up watching.”

“And are they stil the team you root for?”

“When I watch hockey, yes.”

“So you're not a die-hard hockey fan?

She grinned at him and raised an eyebrow. “Not real y. More of a casual fan.”

“You wound me.”

“You'l get over it.”

“The lady tel s me I'l get over her not being more than a casual fan of the sport I love, the one I played for nearly thirty years. Can you believe

that?” He sighed heavily, and she laughed. “And now she laughs openly at me, clearly mocking me. So cruel. Next question. Are you married? Any

rug rats?”

“That's two questions.” Jamie reminded him, and he snorted in reply.

“Just answer the question.”

“No, not married. No rug rats. Nice term, by the way. I can tel how much you like children.”

“I like kids a lot. Sometimes more than adults—they're straight shooters, you know?” he said and watched as her face betrayed her surprise.

Just because he wasn't ready to settle down and have a bunch of kids didn't mean he didn't like them. “So no husband. Boyfriend?”

She raised an eyebrow again. “No, no boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

She burst out laughing and answered, “No girlfriend either.”

He was annoyed that he was relieved she didn't have a husband or a boyfriend. He hadn't seen a ring, but that was no guarantee these days. He

was sure she wasn't a lesbian, not after the way he'd caught her looking at him a couple of times. He'd only asked her as a joke. She'd definitely

reacted to him enough that he was sure about that.

“Why did you make the move from Buffalo to New York?” Jamie shrugged, and Drew cut in. “You know they can't see you shrugging, right?”

“You're a real piece of work, Drew. Yes, I know the listeners can't see me shrugging.” She paused for a beat. “I love my hometown. It gets a bad

rap. It's a beautiful place to live—gorgeous architecture, Lake Erie's right at your doorstep, there's tons of sun; plus the people there are so great.

And the weather isn't nearly as bad as people think. This past winter, we didn't get snow until mid-January. We had a green Christmas.”

“Sounds nice. I liked Buffalo when I traveled there to play.”

She gifted him with a huge, wistful smile, and he felt a fist clenching in his chest.

“But New York is a much bigger market for radio. It was time to move on. I was working at the biggest AM station there, during the busiest time

slot. There real y wasn't anywhere else to go in that market. And if you're going to go to a bigger market, New York is the place to go.”

“And look how lucky you got. You get to work with me now!” Drew teased her.

Jamie snorted. “Yes, so lucky.”

“How did you get into producing for the radio? Did you always want to do it?”

“I knew I wanted to do something related to communications. The thought of sitting at a desk forty hours a week made me want to run for the

hil s. I went to col ege and was majoring in communications, but then I found out there was a major in broadcast journalism. I switched majors because broadcasting sounded more up my al ey than general communications. Then, when I was looking for a job on campus, I noticed that the

campus radio station was looking for a producer. I applied and was given the job. That's where I learned how to run the control board and a lot of

the nitty-gritty details that go into producing a program.”

“Is it an interesting job?”

“It
is
interesting. It may not be as glamorous as being on-air talent, but I like it.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. This was getting a little

too lovey-dovey for his comfort.

“I guess we'l leave other questions for another day. They tel me women like to keep a little mystery about themselves.”

“That they do,” Jamie agreed.

“Let's kick it to break. Be right back, folks. You're listening to
The Beast is Back
, on WREK.” He rose from his chair and stuck his head in the

production room. “Thanks for playing along.”

“You could've told me you were going to do that first thing. I wasn't ready.”

“Are you mad?”

She rol ed her eyes. “No. A little warning next time, though?”

“Where's the fun in that? Besides, I like making you blush. I think I might make it my personal mission from now on.” He winked, and she shook

her head, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

“Go back to your studio, Mr. Milan,” she admonished him.

They got through the rest of the show, and that feeling of exhilaration he'd gotten from bantering with Jamie stayed with him clear through the

night. He didn't stop and question why. He was afraid of what the answer might be.

Jamie stopped down at the bakery on the first floor of her building on Tuesday morning. She'd struck up a friendship with the girl who worked

there during the day, Liz, and since she didn't have any girlfriends in the city and she certainly wasn't going to cal Chandra, she decided to see

what Elizabeth thought of her conundrum with Drew.

“Hey, girl!” Liz cal ed out as Jamie stepped through the door and inhaled the pungent aroma of yeast and sticky sweet sugar.

“Hi! How's it going?” She indicated Liz's front. Liz wore an apron tied around her brightly colored T-shirt, which was a good thing, considering

she was covered in flour at the moment.

Liz laughed and pushed up her funky blue glasses with the back of her hand. “The mixer's a little ornery today, can you tel ?”

“A little? It looks like it's winning, I can tel you that much!”

Liz shrugged. “That's the glamorous life of a baker. So what's up? Want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Muffin? Scone?”

“I shouldn't, but sure, a blueberry muffin sounds awesome.”

“I have these new ones that are made with whole grain and a bunch of other healthy stuff. They stil taste pretty good, and they're healthy—at

least comparatively speaking. Want to try one? It's on the house.”

Jamie shooed her. “I can't let you give me a muffin.”

“Like I said, they're new. I just started sel ing them yesterday. I want your opinion. So yes, I can just give you a muffin. Besides, I can give you

baked goods if I feel like it—Celine doesn't care.”

“How is she going to make any profit if she gives stuff away?”

“She doesn't. But we like you. You're from upstate. You're polite.” Liz winked at her and set the coffee and muffin on the counter.

Jamie picked them up and took them over to a little bistro table a few feet away. “Do you have time to take a break?”

“Do I have time to get off my feet for a few? Definitely.” She yel ed into the back that she was taking a break, grabbed a coffee for herself, took

off her apron, and flopped into the chair opposite Jamie. She groaned as she stretched, displaying a navel ring as her T-shirt rode up.

Jamie raised a brow but didn't say anything. Liz had a great sense of style, but there was no way Jamie would ever get a bel y piercing or a

tattoo, which Liz also had.

“I may never get up.”

Laughing, Jamie replied, “No matter how cool Celine is, I doubt she'd be happy with that.”

Liz grinned. “A girl can hope. So tel me about the new job. I listened the other night. He sounds sexy.” She drew the word out to three distinct

syl ables.

“He is.” She dropped her head into one hand.

Liz looked pointedly at Jamie's other hand. “Just because he's hot is no reason to assault my muffin, girlfriend,” Liz told her.

Jamie looked down. She'd shredded the entire thing as she'd thought about Drew's voice. Not good. She sighed. “That's just it, though. He's

sexy. And hot. And flirty. And my boss.”

“
And
you've got a crush on him. I can see it on your face. You're blushing.”

Jamie threw up her arms. “I blush al the time around him. It's embarrassing. I'm sure he thinks I'm some sort of backward bumpkin or

something.”

“I'm sure he doesn't,” Liz reassured her. “Is he flirting with you?”

“Wel , yeah, but I think he flirts with every woman. Like it's an automatic thing.”

“Have you seen him around other women? Is he flirting with them too?”

Jamie stopped to consider Liz's question. “Wel , no, not real y, but we were in a crowd then. He wasn't acting flirty toward me then either. But it

doesn't matter—he's my boss. I can't get involved with him.”

“People date their bosses al the time.”

“Yeah, I know, but you don't know my dating history. It's riddled with bad choices that blew up in my face, including not one but two failed engagements.” Liz whistled, and Jamie nodded, continuing. “I can't afford to have something happen and then not work out. I need this job. I moved

al the way here—I can't screw this up.”

“Who says it wouldn't work out? There's always the chance it could work out. Besides, you learned from every mistake you made, didn't you?”

“That's not what my sister says...” Jamie mumbled.

Liz made a dismissive noise. “Is she an older sister?” When Jamie nodded, Liz continued. “Older sisters love to remind you about that stuff.

Don't let her get you down. You're a smart woman. You'l make a good decision.”

It's nice to know someone has faith in my judgment.

“I want him
so bad
. He's gorgeous! Hey—do you have a computer around here? I could show you a picture of him. He's a retired hockey player.

There are pictures of him al over the Internet.”

Liz squealed. “My laptop is in my bag under the counter.” She scooted back there to get it and was back before Jamie had taken more than a

few sips of coffee. “What's his name again?”

“Drew Milan.”

Liz typed it into the search engine. “Whoa, you weren't kidding. He's freaking hot, girl.”

Jamie laughed. “Told you.” Peering over Liz's shoulder, she noticed a headline. “Wait, what's that?” The headline read: HOCKEY STAR JILTED

BY FIANCEE. “Can I see that?”

Liz turned the computer more ful y toward her, and she began to read. Apparently when Drew had been in his twenties, he'd been engaged to

one of the country's hottest soap stars. Not even two months before they were to be married, according to the story, he'd found her in bed with his

teammate. Then when that guy was suddenly traded, the woman had gone public with the story in a bid for revenge against Drew for ruining her

supposed “true love” with this guy. The story went on to say that he'd been a recluse in the months since, and that the hockey team was hoping he

could put the incident behind him and concentrate on the upcoming season.

Liz spoke first. “What a bitch!”

That summed up Jamie's feelings. “Yeah, that's pretty cal ous. It does explain why he's got the reputation as a player now.”

“A player? I thought he was retired?”

Jamie smiled. “No, I mean like a player with women.”

“But you haven't said he's acted like a slimebal .”

“Not al players do,” Jamie said, shrugging. “He's been nothing but nice to me, but that doesn't mean he's not a player. He's obviously not a

happily-ever-after guy, and this certainly explains why. Doesn't make me want him any less, though—if anything, it makes me want him more. I'm a

sucker for sob stories, as my sister can attest.”

“What woman isn't? Hel , when a good man is scorned like that? When some slut comes along and ruins him for other women? Al I want to do is

lick his wounds. Wel , and other parts.” Liz winked. “And show him there are stil good women out there.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jamie rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Thanks for the coffee and the muffin, and most of al , for listening to the rantings of an

insane woman.”

Liz put her hand over Jamie's on the table. “You're not insane. You want a hot, nice guy who seems to want you back. Honey, there's absolutely

nothing insane about that.”

“Except that he's my boss, and I can't have him.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Don't automatical y nix the idea just because he's your boss.”

Jamie gave her a half smile. “You're a bad influence.”

“I know. Come back anytime you want to talk about Mr. Hot Hockey Man.”

Jamie left the shop, heading out to catch the subway for the trip to the radio station. For the entire ride into the city, her mind ping-ponged back

and forth between wanting to take Drew up on the wordless invitation she thought she saw in his eyes and resolving to stay away from him. Neither

one seemed like a good solution to her current dilemma.

When they had an extended break while a segment cal ed “The Business of Sports” ran, Drew took the opportunity to mosey into the producer's

booth. Leaning on the side of the door, he watched Jamie as she worked. When she final y stopped fiddling with the control board, he spoke up.

“You look great today.” She whirled around, her hair flying out behind her, teasing him with the scent of, what was that—raspberry? He loved raspberries.

“My God, I didn't see you come in.”