“He used to be.”

Charlie looked up at the tone in Allie’s voice. “But?”

Allie leaned back in her chair. “But then about six months ago, Beattie decided she wanted a job, so he gave her the run of the place. That upset the station manager and he quit. So Beattie took that job and now she really runs the station.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “But you said last night she’s not bad at it.”

Allie nodded. “She’s a fast learner, and she’s not stupid in the slightest.”

“And Bill just gave her the station.” Charlie sat back. “Which parts aren’t you mentioning?”

Allie bit her lip for a moment. Then she pushed her glasses up her nose and leaned forward. “Beattie doesn’t particularly want to talk about this, so don’t mention it. Last January, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had surgery and her doctor recommended some intensive chemo, and she was in pretty bad shape for a while. Then she started to get better, and in April, when she said she wanted to learn about radio…” Allie shrugged. “If Bill hadn’t already owned a station, he’d have bought one for her.”

“Well, it must beat chemo.”

“She was done in July. And she’s doing really well now, and good things have come of it.”

“Such as?” Charlie prompted.

“Well, Grady has never been Bill’s favorite son, but he stuck with his mom through the whole thing, taking her to chemo, cooking for her when she wouldn’t eat, that kind of stuff. Bill hasn’t called Grady a moron for months.”

Charlie grinned. “I can see where that would be a step up.”

“And Beattie’s running the station just fine.”

Charlie nodded as the pieces fell into place. Beattie had come in cold off the street and the station was still doing fine. Beattie had had some help. “It’s doing fine because you showed her the ropes.”

Allie shrugged. “I helped a little.”

Charlie thought back to the scene in the hall. “Right. Why didn’t you ask for the station manager’s job?”

Allie looked horrified. “Business? Please, I’d rather die.”

Well, he could sympathize with that. “Beattie would give you Mark’s show back.”

“I don’t want Mark’s show.” Allie met his eyes. “I want Mark’s time slot. The prime-time slot. That’s where we’re going to end up, Charlie.”

“At 6:00 a.m.?” Charlie’s voice broke in outrage. “In the morning a.m.? Are you nuts, woman?”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“No, I won’t.” Charlie leaned forward and spoke with great care. “Try to remember this. I am leaving in November. Do not make long-term plans for me.”

Allie smiled at him. “All right.”

Oh, Lord. He sighed at her. “Do you listen to a word I say?”

“Only the good stuff,” Allie told him and he gave up and went back to the handbook.


* * *

Allie watched Charlie open the binder and begin to read.

Now that they weren’t naked, it was easier to make decisions about her future.

For one thing, she was definitely not going to be sharing her bed with him again. She was almost sure of that. She didn’t need any more tension in her life. And after all, she barely knew him.

And sleeping with him would be bad professionally. It was wisest to break this off now, before she really started to care about him. Because she didn’t care about him. She just wanted him. She wanted him right now on the floor of her office. Except there wasn’t enough room. Maybe the desk-

No.

She looked at him, reading the stupid WBBB handbook, that lock of blond-brown hair falling over his forehead. The best thing she could do would be to stay away from him as much as possible. While he was on the air, there would be a glass wall between them, so that was safe enough. And maybe they could discuss the show through memos instead of face-to-face.

Face-to-face made her think of his mouth.

Definitely memos.

Charlie read something that was particularly inane and groaned.

“I told you it would be bad,” Allie said unsympathetically. She had to get away from him. She had to do things that did not include fantasizing about being pressed against a wall while his hands-

She grabbed her coffee cup and stood up. “Listen, if you’re happy here for a while, I promised to talk to some people. If you want coffee, the break room is down the hall, turn to the left, first door on the left. You can’t miss it.”

“Coffee is not going to make this garbage better,” Charlie said.

“Be sure to mention that to Bill at the meeting at five,” Allie said and made her escape.


* * *

Allie got coffee from the break room, smiling absently at Mark and Harry the Howler, who were talking cars. She wasn’t even mad at Mark anymore. Amazing what good sex and a new shot at a career could do for a woman’s outlook. Mark looked at her strangely, so she ignored him. She had enough to do without worrying about Mark, especially since worrying about Mark was no longer her job. This was an incredibly cheering thought in a day that had been pretty cheerful to start with.

Buoyed beyond reason, she left the break room and went back to doing what she did best: keeping the station ticking. She picked up the ratings from Albert, promised Marcia they’d have a late lunch the next day to discuss her show and headed for the receptionist’s counter.

“Hey, Karen,” she said as she breezed into the lobby. She picked up a cookie from a plate on the counter and bit into it. “Where did the almond cookies come from?”

“Mrs. Winthrop brought them in for Grady again, but he said to leave them here for everybody.” Karen looked around and then crooked a finger at her. “Come here for a minute.”

Allie popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth and went behind the counter, mystified.

Karen picked up a basket covered with a baby quilt. “I’m in big trouble, Allie, and I don’t know what to do.”

Allie prayed there wasn’t a baby in the basket. Some things were beyond even her ability to fix. Then she looked at the dark circles under Karen’s eyes and felt ashamed. “You look awful,” Allie said. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to feed him every hour and I can’t get to sleep in between. I’ve been doing it for two days now, and I’m afraid he’s going to die.” Karen started to cry, and Allie took the basket from her, expecting the worst.

It was almost that bad. Under the blanket, nestled in soft flannel, was a tiny black puppy, no bigger than two of Allie’s fingers. “Oh, no.” Allie shot an anguished look at Karen. “What happened?”

Karen’s words came out in a rush. “Mopsy had her puppies, but there were too many, and he came last, and he can’t suck or something, and she doesn’t even seem to notice him.” She gulped in some air. “And I’ve been trying to feed him every hour, but I’m not getting much down him, and I think he’s going to die.” Tears started in her eyes, and she sniffed them back. “And I’m so tired, Allie. I just can’t think what to do.”

Allie put the blanket back over the basket. “Is the formula in here?”

Karen nodded. “And the bottle and everything.”

Allie patted her on the shoulder. “Go home at five and sleep. We’ll take it from here.”

Karen blinked. “I don’t have permission to have him at the station. Bill doesn’t know.”

“Bill doesn’t have to know. Charlie and I can handle it until two, and then Grady’s in.” Allie grinned at her. “And you know Grady and nature. He’ll probably have this little guy sitting up and begging by morning.”

Karen’s tears moved from a trickle to a gush. “Are you sure? Will Charlie be mad? Oh, Allie, I-”

“Go home at five,” Allie ordered. “Grady will pass the basket to you at eight, and I’ll pick it up again tomorrow night at five. Charlie and Harry will be glad to help. They’re good guys. We’re covered. Go get some coffee to keep you going until you get off work, and leave everything else to me.”

Karen mopped at her eyes and nodded. “His name’s Samson. That’s what I call him when I feed him. I wanted to give him a strong name, you know?”

“I know.” Allie patted her again, back in control of the world. “We’ll save him.”


* * *

After fifteen minutes of trying to make sense of Bill’s highly original take on broadcasting, Charlie gave up and went in search of the break room and coffee. Mark and Harry, the big tow-headed guy from the lobby, were deep in conversation about Mark’s carburetor when he came in, and as far as Charlie was concerned, they could stay that way.

“Just came for coffee.” He picked up a disposable cup and filled it at the coffeemaker. Then he turned back to the door.

“So, Charlie…” Mark was leaning back in his chair, smiling one of those man-to-man smiles.

“So, Mark.” Charlie kept going.

“So you’ve moved in with Allie and Joe.”

“Yep.” Charlie was almost through the door.

“So how was it in the sack with our Allie last night?”

Charlie stopped. Keep your mouth shut, he told himself. Get out of here. He turned around. “What?”

Mark smiled his man-of-the-world smile. “You and Allie. How was she in the sack? Not what you’re used to, I bet.”

Don’t make waves, Charlie told himself. He looked at Mark’s smug face and thought about Allie and felt his temper spurt. He walked back and leaned over the table until he was almost nose-to-nose with Mark.

“Never… ever… make a derogatory comment about Alice again. Because if you do, I will wipe up this station with you.”

Mark lost his smile for a minute, and Charlie turned back to the door.

“Tough guy.”