Love on the Air Read Online Free Page A

college for his first
full-time radio gig. If her work ethic matched her obvious passion, he'd made a sound business decision.

    But in the hall, Rick found himself fighting the urge
to guide her by touching her arm or her shoulder. To
anyone else, the gesture might not have looked out of
place, but he knew himself better. Her delicate build
invited him to touch, and it was bringing out a lot of
useless impulses-some of them protective, some of
them not.
    Oh, well. She was working nights. He'd hardly ever
see her.
    When he showed her the production room where
the commercials were recorded, Christie was like a kid
on Christmas morning. Most disc jockeys had to be
shoved in that direction, but she was admiring everything from the computer recording console to the voice
processor. Rick stayed back, leaning against the door
jamb as he watched her move from one discovery to
the next. "Better than the toys at broadcasting school?"
he said.
    "I'll say." Christie was studying the CDs of background music and sound effects, mounted on their
large wall rack. She fingered the spines of the CDs
with a look that bordered on avarice. Dreaming of
commercials to come? Unusual, especially in a female
jock. But as she stood there, that soft-looking auburn
page boy framing her face, there was no denying how
female she was.
    If she could get that worked up over a CD library,
maybe she did belong here. But Rick had something better in store for her than production discs. Already
anticipating her reaction, he cleared his throat.

    She looked up, startled, and he held back a smile.
"You'd probably like a look at the on-air studio?"
    The light in her eyes was even brighter than he'd
expected.
    Christie wasn't sure her feet were touching the
ground as she walked down the hall to the last door
on the left. The studio. Her holy grail. Rick opened
the door and stood back for her to go in ahead of him;
he was polite about things like that, she noticed. Christie scrupulously checked the "ON AIR" light above
the doorway, but of course it was off. She stepped
inside and nearly walked into the black Formica countertop that took up most of the room, surrounding the
disc jockey on three sides.
    The woman on the other side of the counter was
about thirty, Hispanic-looking and very pretty, with
long, chocolate brown hair that stopped one shade shy
of black. As Christie and Rick entered, she smiled,
pulling off her headphones. "Hi, Rick. What's up?"
    "Yvonne, this is Christie Becker, our new overnight
jock. Christie, this is Yvonne Reyes, our midday personality."
    "A girl!" Yvonne's smile widened, and she offered
her hand over the large console that stood on the
counter between them. Christie scanned the enthusiasm for cattiness and found none. "About time, Rick,"
Yvonne said. "Now I won't have to be on every one
of the nail salon spots."
    "Hi." Christie shook Yvonne's hand and peered over the console, trying to get a better look at the
sliding controls on the other side. Soon enough, she
told herself.

    "Yvonne's also our music director, and my right
arm. Yvonne, I'll need you to train Christie for a couple of days before her first air shift."
    "Great. She can learn from my mistakes. Nice to
meet you, hon."
    "Yvonne Reyes," Christie said when they were outside again. "That's a pretty name." She caught herself
watching Rick for his response, wondering just how
attached to his right arm he might be. The woman was
certainly an eyeful.
    No reaction that Christie could see. "Her last name's
really Reynaldo. She just tweaked it a little bit. Come
to think of it, we need an air name for you, don't we?"
    "Christie Becker is it," she said. "It's my mother's
maiden name."
    "You applied for work under an assumed name?
Good thing I didn't call your references." He blinked;
obviously he hadn't meant to say that. "But I will
now," he amended.
    "It's okay. Everybody knows about the radio thing,
even at the loan office. I