Jo Leigh - Going For It

“I’ve got her,” Darlene said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chase wondered if she realized she’d spoken aloud. “What do you want her for?”

She jerked around to stare at him. “What?”

“You’ve got her. But what for? What’s the point?”

“Come on. You see her. Love guru? She’s barely out of her teens and she’s become the expert on love in New York? I’m sorry, but that’s bull. If she’s an expert, then I’m the Queen of England.”

“Maybe she’s gifted. People are, you know.”

“Gifted? I’ll tell you how she’s gifted. She doesn’t get embarrassed about body parts. She has this sweet little voice, and this angelic little face, and she talks like a biology teacher on steroids. That doesn’t mean she knows a thing about love or relationships. She’s a fraud, and I’m going to prove it.”

He nodded. “Nothing personal, though, right? Just doing the noble thing to protect the innocent ears of Manhattan youth?”

“Laugh if you want, but you know what? I am doing the noble thing. A fraud is a fraud is a fraud. She may look great on billboards, but she’s a menace on the airwaves.”

“And you’re going to stop her?”

“Damn straight.”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if she doesn’t fall for my charms?”

Darlene’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t let that happen. I know some things about you, Chase. You didn’t say yes for me. You want to prove her wrong just as much as I do.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Which means I probably shouldn’t do it. I don’t have anything against Jamie.”

“Come on, Chase. This kid is a flash in the pan. She’s a marketing trick. She’ll only be around until the next fad comes along.”

The door behind them opened. Jamie walked in, her whole demeanor spelling out her defeat. This stunt could take her to the top, could make her a household name. And he held all the cards.

Chase wasn’t crazy about that. She seemed like a nice kid. And damn, she was pretty. But what the hell? It was only radio. Just a stunt, like all the other stunts he’d pulled. In the long run, it didn’t matter.

Despite what he’d said to Darlene, he would play fair. Of course, he’d use all the weapons in his arsenal. But if Jamie said no, it would stay no.

He knew he sounded like an arrogant bastard. But he didn’t care about that. The truth was the truth. Women wanted to be appreciated; to be admired for who they were, not just what they looked like—although he didn’t ignore that, either. Women wanted to be swept away. They wanted a man to run the show. They wanted to get well and truly laid.

What the hell. It was all just a game, right?

JAMIE HELD IT TOGETHER just long enough to finish the show. The moment she was off the air, she shot out of the booth and found Marcy and Fred in Fred’s office.

She walked in and planted a fist on her hip. “I’m not doing this.”

Marcy got to her feet, moving between her and Fred, a human blockade. “I’ll handle this, Jamie.”

“There’s nothing to handle. I refuse.”

“Ladies, take a seat.”

Marcy sat, and once Jamie caught a glimpse of the expression on Fred’s face, she sat down, too. It didn’t mean she was going to budge.

“Do you have any idea how many people have called the station in the past hour? More than a thousand, and that’s just the number we logged. Most people couldn’t get through. I’ve gotten calls from the Post and the CBS affiliate, both of whom want to do stories on this.”

“That doesn’t make it right, Fred.” Jamie leaned forward, putting her hands on his desk. “I won’t subject myself to this kind of humiliation. No job is worth that.”

“Really? That’s surprising coming from you. Didn’t you tell me last week you’d do anything to get national syndication?”

“I didn’t mean it literally, for God’s sake. Fred, the witch wants me to go out with that…that…man.”

“That man is going to save your butt,” Fred said. “You do know that his father built this station—that Chase himself could have owned the station, if he’d wanted to.”

“So?”

“So you think he’s going to let you fall on your fanny? The man is his father’s son. He’s going to do what’s right.”

Jamie slid back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Great. So not only am I going to be publicly humiliated, I’m going to do exactly what I’ve been accused of. It’s called fraud, Fred, and they have laws about that.”

“All you have to do is not sleep with him. You said yourself, that was no problem.”

“That’s exactly my point. Nothing can possibly happen. You know that, and I know that. Don’t you see? It’s not a contest. It’s not even clever. It’s just that woman’s idea of clever.”

Behind her, a man cleared his throat, and she spun around to see Chase at the door.

“Sorry to butt in, but I figure I have a stake in this, so I might as well hear what’s going on.”

“Come in, Chase.” Fred waved him over to a straight-backed chair by his file cabinet, but Chase chose to sit in the leather wing chair by the bookcase. He sank down and opened the front of his jacket, revealing a plain, white T-shirt. His knees spread wide in that totally masculine, completely arrogant manner of men who think they’re God’s gift.

“I was just telling Jamie about your ties to the station.”

Chase nodded. Jamie didn’t want to stare at him, but tearing her gaze away was proving a difficult task. Finally, she managed to turn in her seat so her back was to him.

“Hey, I don’t care one way or another,” Chase said. “If she doesn’t want to do this…”

“Jamie can’t do this.” Marcy stood up and walked to the file cabinet. Jamie noted that from there she could see all three of the players. “It doesn’t matter what that woman said. Jamie isn’t a fraud. She has nothing to prove. Whittaker is just looking for cheap publicity.”

“And you’re not?” Chase asked. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

Fred nodded. “I can’t force you to do this. But I’ll tell you this—we have a chance at syndication without it. A chance. But if you do this thing—if you go out with Chase and keep your legs crossed—we’ll be syndicated before the end of the year. Guaranteed.”

“I don’t want it that badly.”

“Is that so?” Fred asked. “You’re young and you have a brilliant career ahead of you. Why blow it over something like this? You play along for a couple of weeks, Chase says whatever he has to, and that’s it. Except that we have a hell of a lot of new listeners. Believe me, it’ll be worth it once we’re national. The rest of your life depends on your decision here. You can make the best of it, or you can walk. Wasn’t it you who told me you don’t believe in half measures? That you were going to get syndicated before you were thirty if it killed you?”

“Wait a minute.” Marcy shook her head as if she could hardly believe what was happening. “This is nuts. Why don’t we all just think it through? Who says we have to decide right now? By tomorrow, things will be much clearer and—”

Jamie stopped listening. She had a decision to make. She could walk out now and not look back. She’d find another radio gig. She was number one in her market, for God’s sake. On the other hand, what if Darlene was right? That she had no business telling New York, let alone the nation, a thing about life or love. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t wondered—as if her own doubts hadn’t made her contemplate quitting. Did she have any right to help all those callers? Wasn’t it only appropriate that she should be tested by her own fire?

She wouldn’t sleep with him. No amount of charisma was going to change that. So why not go along with it? She loved this job. She wanted to be syndicated. She wanted to prove to herself and her family that she’d made the right choice. And lord, she didn’t want Darlene to win.