Love on the Air Read Online Free

his desk. "Here's where
I turn into the bad guy. But I have to. I've got to take
one last shot at being the voice of reason here."
    Uh-oh.
    "Miss Becker, you're about twenty-three years old-"
    "You're not supposed to ask me that. It's illegal."
    "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you."
    "Twenty-six."
    A smile flickered in his eyes. "Okay, you're roughly
twenty-six years old, and-I can't stress this enoughyou have a viable career. In a stable business. Broadcasting is not stable. We happen to be a privatelyowned station with a pretty low turnover, but that's
not the norm. Radio stations are bought and sold.
Music formats change. All of which can put you out
of a job. And since, as you mentioned, you're interested in advancement, there's a good chance it won't
be here. Remember-low turnover. So eventually
you'd probably want to move on, which means relocating, which means more instability." He paused.
"And the hours-nights, personal appearances on
weekends-can turn your personal life upside down.
Are you prepared-"
    "You said that last one already."

    "Right." He smiled ruefully. "I'm not getting
through to you, am I?"
    It was the strangest interview she'd ever had, but it
was still better than the one yesterday. Today, at least,
he was really talking to her. Maybe that was what gave
her the nerve to ask, "I don't mean to be rude, but do
you always try to talk your applicants out of the job?"
    "No. Most of them already know better. It's just too
late." He shook his head. "You see, Miss Becker,
besides everything else I just mentioned, radio's an
addictive job. If you don't crack in three months, you
may not want to go back to anything else. It's kind of
like the priesthood: if you can be happy doing anything else, you probably should."
    "What about you?"
    He paused a moment before he answered. "One
divorce," he said quietly. "Other than that, it's been a
piece of cake."
    Oops. She hadn't been going for anything that personal. "I'm sorry."
    "Not your fault."
    "You're still here," she noted.
    "Still here. But I'm an addict, remember?" If he was
any the worse for wear, Christie could see it only in
the faint lines around his eyes when he smiled. All the
lines really did was make him look a bit more complex
than a man in his twenties. And much more interesting. She bit her lower lip.
    "Would you do it again?" she asked. "Radio, I
mean. Not the divorce."
    "Hold on. I'm supposed to be asking the questions."

    "You asked me to think about it. I'm just trying to
make an informed decision."
    He grinned. "Okay." He shifted his glance just beyond her, drumming the fingers of his bare left hand
on the desktop as his smile faded. "Would I do it
again?"
    Christie suspected she'd stumbled onto something.
She'd asked the handsome program director a question
he'd never asked himself. Whether that was good or
bad, she'd soon find out.
    She didn't have long to wait. When Rick's eyes
returned to hers, they were decisive. "Yes," he said.
"I'd do it again."
    In return for that honest answer, she tried for a few
seconds to consider everything he'd warned her about.
She couldn't. She wanted the job too badly. She went
out on one more limb. "Well," she said, "how about
if we make a bet on whether or not I crack in three
months?"
    Rick didn't miss a beat. "That just happens to be
your probationary period." He picked up the manila
file folder in front of him and flipped it across the desk
in front of her. "You'll need to fill these forms out for
our personnel office before you start. And forget it.
I'm not betting against you."
    Rick walked Christie through the station to give her
a brief tour before she went back to give her two
weeks' notice at the loan office.
    He'd tried, he thought. No one could say he hadn't
tried. But he'd already known that trying to reason
with Christie was a losing battle. He knew that single minded, feverish look, because he'd worn it himself
over ten years ago when he'd quit