Vicki Thompson - Talking About Sex...

“You’re taking me home, aren’t you?”

He sighed. “I just don’t think you and I are meant to be.”

That sounded equally lame. He was no good at dishing out rejection. Sappy as it sounded, he didn’t like to hurt a woman’s feelings.

“You were fine until sex came into the conversation.”

He hadn’t been fine. He’d been faking enjoyment. Apparently she couldn’t tell, though, and he didn’t want to make things any worse by explaining that.

Suzanne tossed her head. “Maybe this Dr. Astorbrooke is onto something, after all.”

He’d have to take a blow to his manly pride. It was either that or say something hurtful to Suzanne. It wasn’t her fault they hadn’t clicked. “Maybe she is.”

“I guess you’d better take me home then. I’m not in the market for someone with inadequacy issues.”

With a great sense of relief, Jess pulled into traffic. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“You could get counseling.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” He managed to hit a bunch of green lights and had Suzanne at her doorstep in no time. A handshake later, he was back in the car.

In a roundabout way Katie had done him a favor tonight, but he wasn’t giving her any credit for that. She was out to get him, and he planned to put a stop to it.

Primed for battle, he headed for KRZE.

KATIE PETERSON ESCORTED Janice Astorbrooke out of the studio during a commercial break for Cialis. After the good doctor left, Katie returned to the studio to tidy up in preparation for Jared Williams, whose program Sports Nuts filled the ten-o’clock slot. As she gathered her notes, she basked in the glow of accomplishment.

The walls of the small adobe building she loved might quiver from the rumble of earthmovers during the day, but she’d gotten in her licks tonight. She felt like a warrior defending her turf. This was her house, even if she didn’t own it.

She’d understood why her grief-stricken grandfather had sold it after her grandmother had died when Katie was in high school. She’d understood why her suburban parents hadn’t wanted it either, although losing her grandmother and the house in the same year had been very tough to take. She’d hated the feeling of having no control over major events in her life. When the construction had been proposed and she could see the building was threatened, she’d vowed to do what she could to save it.

Dr. Astorbrooke had been a real asset to her campaign. Judging from the number of callers during the second half of the show, the topic had stirred up plenty of controversy, which was Katie’s bread and butter. Boosting the ratings even higher while taking potshots at Harkins Construction made for a fine evening’s work.

At ten on the dot Jared ambled into the studio. A tall, lanky guy with glasses, he loved his wife Ruth and weird sports statistics, in that order.

Katie got up and turned the microphone over to him. “Did you catch any of my show?”

“Absolutely.” Jared grinned at her as he sat down and reached for the headset. “Just for the record, I have no urge to construct tall buildings.”

Katie laughed. “I didn’t think so. Ruth seems like a very satisfied woman.”

“Yeah, she got a kick out of your show tonight. She was still listening when I left home.”

“Tell her I appreciate the support. Every listener counts.”

“Will do.” Jared glanced up at Katie as he adjusted the headset. “Have a good weekend.”

“Thanks.” Katie gave him a wave as she slipped out the door and walked down to the hall to the station’s modest lobby.

“Great show,” said Ava Dinsmore, KRZE’s most recent intern from Pima College. Interns worked well for KRZE, which operated on a tight budget.

Ava obviously understood tight budgets. On her twenty-second birthday she’d decided to go back to school and climb out of the minimum-wage rut. She favored multiple piercings and an ever-changing rainbow of hair colors, so radio was a more logical venue for her than TV.

Besides being a general gofer, she covered the switchboard in the mornings and every evening until the station signed off. “You had lots of calls,” she said.

“I know! Wasn’t the response terrific? We even had to bleep out some language. I loved it.”

“You got a few personal calls, too.” Ava picked up several slips of paper.

Katie made no move to take the messages. Ava lived for moments of drama, which included reading messages aloud instead of handing them over. From the beginning Katie had admired Ava’s ability to talk clearly with her tongue stud.

“First priority, Edgecomb called. The owners are pissed about tonight’s show. They’re afraid the negotiations with Livingston Development will go south.”

“Good! Then Livingston can build its precious parking garage somewhere else.”

“Yeah, like on the lot on the other side of us, with the station sandwiched in between. Our signal will be ruined, regardless.”

“That’s why we have to stop all the construction! I’m not accepting defeat yet.”

“Edgecomb wants you to accept defeat. He wants you to go back to the original format—sex toys, foreplay techniques, stuff like that.”

“Last night I reviewed two adult videos and interviewed a topless dancer.”

“I know.” Ava’s spiked hair didn’t move when she nodded. “But in between you’ve been dissing the construction. And tonight the whole show was about that. Edgecomb wants you to cut it out.”

“We’ll see.” On Monday night Katie had a guest scheduled who would talk about the sexual significance of hardware items like bolts, screws and nuts, which would give her an opening for more anticonstruction comments. She really wanted to do that show.

“As Edgecomb put it, you can rag on this project all you want—on your own time.” Ava’s grin was framed by purple lip gloss. “I have to give you credit, though. I never would have dreamed you’d find a way to connect sex with construction.”

“Google is a girl’s best friend.” But the leap had been an easy one. Jess Harkins and sex were forever linked in her mind, although she’d take splinters under her fingernails before admitting to anyone at the station that she had a personal grudge against the general contractor for the project.

“I would love to be a fly on the wall when somebody tells that builder about tonight’s show. Can you imagine some manly construction dude being called a wimpy-dick on the air? Good thing your phone number’s unlisted.”

“I didn’t call him a wimpy-dick.” Katie smiled her secret smile. “That was Dr. Astorbrooke’s theory, not mine.” She hoped the word would get back to Jess, though. Served him right.

“Yeah, I noticed that you protected yourself nicely.” Ava’s dimples flashed. “So are you gonna ease up on the smear campaign?”

Not on your life. “I’ll talk to Edgecomb.” Katie checked the clock on the wall. “What were the other messages?”

“One was from Cheryl, who said—” Ava paused to read from the message “—‘Give ’em hell, Katie. Let’s go for margaritas at six tomorrow. Usual place.’” Ava looked up. “She said a bunch more stuff, but that was the gist.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

“Can I come?”

“Sure, why not?” Katie suspected that Ava was outgrowing her regular crowd of slackers and wanted to find a different group to hang with. Katie and her best friend Cheryl, a trial lawyer, might look pretty good to Ava right now.

“Great! Thanks.”

“It’ll be fun. Any more messages?”

“Uh, yeah. Your mother wants to know why you’re picking on that nice Harkins boy.”

“Oh.” She heard the sound of a second shoe dropping. Obviously Ava had saved that message for last. She was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out juicy gossip. Doggone Mom anyway.