On-Air Passion

by Lindsay Evans

“What he feels doesn’t matter,” she said, wishing that was true. “I don’t want to see him. What you and I may agree on now has nothing to do with him. And I would appreciate it if you would respect my wish for that.”

  She clenched her jaw, knowing that Clive might give her pushback and tell her no since Ahmed was his star, and the star always got what he wanted. And he’d gotten her, hadn’t he? Had her moaning and begging for him in his bed like a glorified groupie without the benefit of even a backstage pass to ease the burn of the bad memory.

  Elle hated her own weakness. Her stupidity. How could she have let him in so easily? How could she have allowed herself to fall so fast when everything pointed to it being a bad idea? But bad idea or not, the fall had already happened, and she just had to pick herself up, dust herself off and carry on like it hadn’t just about crippled her. And dammit, her business was affected. The last thing she wanted to do was look at happy couples and help them plan a perfect date.

  The pain of what had happened between her and Ahmed was so raw she couldn’t imagine looking him in the face. At least not without wanting to punch him in it.

  “Are you still here, Elle?”

  “Yes, I am.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose, wishing she had more options. Wishing…so many things.

  “So will you do it?” Clive persisted. “Just for closure’s sake?”

  And to make your radio station some money in the process?

  Outside her office, Elle heard the tap of heels on hardwood. Shaye coming back from whatever appointment she’d rushed off to earlier that morning.

  This is business.

  Elle pressed her lips together. She couldn’t afford to bail on Romance Perfected just because she’d made a stupid decision then gotten her feelings hurt.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  Clive’s pleased laugh came at her through the phone. “Good! You won’t regret this.”

  I already do. “Okay.”

  “We should do it for the next show,” Clive said, suddenly all business. “I’ll contact you in a few hours with the details.”

  “That sounds good,” Elle replied, although every part of her rebelled against it. When Shaye knocked on her door, she covered the mouthpiece to invite her partner in then went back to the conversation with Clive. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions.” She finished the phone call and was hanging up when Shaye sat down.

  “You look irritated,” Shaye said. She reached for a pink-and-white soft mint in the dish sitting on Elle’s desk. “What’s up?”

  When Elle finished, Shaye rolled the candy around in her mouth, looking thoughtful. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want, Elle. I can go instead.”

  “I think we’ve already crossed and burned that bridge. He wants me to be the one. I’ll be there because that’s what we just agreed to.”

  “I’ll come, too. Just in case there’s some kind of weird ambush planned.”

  “That would be stupid for him to do.”

  “But he’s the one who told the press where you were going on your date with Ahmed, so…”

  Shaye had a point. Being an idiot was not only reserved for Ahmed Clark. She winced at the thought of the man she’d shared her body and more than a small part of her heart with.

  “You don’t have to come with me to this meeting. I’m a big girl. I should act like it and handle this thing on my own.” Elle sighed and sat back in her chair, the leather hydraulic seat hissing with her movements. She nibbled on the inside of her lip, trying not to worry about what she would confront at the radio station. Then wasn’t surprised when Shaye, after kicking off her shoes then looking quickly at her watch, asked her again what happened between her and Ahmed.

  After leaving his house late Tuesday evening, she’d gone straight home to shower then sleep. The quick morning meeting with a potential client had gone well, then Elle had her pre–radio show coffee date with Ahmed. She thought.

  “Are you going to tell me, Elle?”

  God, she felt so stupid. “You probably already guessed, but I slept with him.”

  “Yeah, I got that from what happened on the radio this morning.” Shaye’s mouth thinned into a hard line. She left her chair to sit on the corner of the desk and took Elle’s hand in hers. “So what the hell happened between the naked riding and you guys being on the radio show? He was savage to you this morning.”

  Shaye’s concern and anger on her behalf made Elle want to cry. She squeezed her friend’s hand. “I honestly don’t know. I thought we’d agreed on a certain direction.” She remembered his possessive insistence on meeting her the next morning, the way he held her close while they were in his bed. Nothing that happened between them last night should have led to the humiliation of the morning. “I don’t know,” she said again, her chin beginning to wobble.

  No. She wasn’t going to cry.

  “Well, screw him.” Shaye gripped Elle’s hands and gave a determined smile. “We’ll get you under another man soon enough. He’s not that damn fine or irreplaceable.”

  Elle wished she could agree. Every single night since she’d met Ahmed Clark, she had dreamed about him. He was already in her mind and in her heart. A tear splashed down her cheek.

  Her best friend looked stricken. “Oh, honey…” She pulled Elle to her feet and into a tight hug. They stood together for a long time, Elle breathing in the comfortable and familiar scent of the one person in the world who loved and accepted her. Who would never hurt her.

  “It’ll be fine,” Elle said, her voice muffled in Shaye’s hair. But she didn’t really believe it.

  *

  When Shaye left for her own office and the next appointment, Elle opened their accounting software to deal with their books. She was elbows deep in numbers, profit and loss—your business is close to failing—when a cheerful knock sounded on her open door. A pretty woman in a crop top and jeans smiled at her.

  “Hi there!” The woman looked happy to see Elle, the sleek bob of her hair like its own separate animal, still moving even when the woman stood still. She carried a small white box in her hands.

  “I don’t have any appointments for the day. You must be looking for Shaye.”

  “Not at all, you’re exactly who I’m looking for.” The woman glanced around the office, eyes lingering on each item she saw as if memorizing its details to share later. “May I come in?”

  “Um…sure.” Elle minimized the accounting program on her screen and waved the woman to sit on the couch. “But I don’t understand.”

  “I’m Aisha,” she said, sitting on the couch. And when she didn’t get whatever response she was waiting for from Elle, she rolled her eyes. “That brother of mine. Ahmed.”

  “Oh!” Elle stumbled on her way to sit on the couch beside Aisha then changed her mind and sat on the front of her desk instead, not sure her suddenly unsteady feet would make it to the couch anyway. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can’t do anything for me, but I hope I can help you.”

  Elle felt confused. And a little disconcerted. “Sorry?”

  “My brother made a big mistake this morning, and he knows it. Because he won’t let himself say that to you right now, I came to apologize for him.” Aisha looked uneasy for a moment, toying with the box in her lap. She looked both very young and very tired at the same time. “I heard you and Ahmed on the radio. It was awful.”

  Heat rushed through Elle’s face. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Oh, my God. Please…” And she felt the humiliating prick of tears. Not again. She curled her fingers around the edge of the desk and bit her tongue.

  Aisha jumped up from the couch. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make this happen.” And she stopped in front of Elle, the white box still in her hands. She shoved it at Elle. “Here! I brought you cake. Ahmed said you’d like it.” Then when Elle didn’t take the box, she dropped it on the desk near Elle’s hip and pulled Elle into her arms. The tears spilled out, hot a
nd fast, down her face and over Aisha’s shoulder. She felt Aisha’s blouse getting wet under her cheek as Ahmed’s sister made soothing circles on her back.

  It was a long time before Elle could pull herself together and let go of Ahmed’s sister, her face burning and her sinuses well and truly clogged. “Well, this is humiliating.” Her voice came out in a croak. She wiped her face with a tissue from her desk.

  “That’s not what I wanted when I came here.” Aisha wiped at her own tears with the back of her hand then muttered a thanks when Elle gave her a tissue. She mopped her face. “I just wanted to fix what my brother broke. You seemed so nice on the radio, and Sam said you and Ahmed had a really nice time on your date.” She babbled on. “And you must think he’s all right. You liked him enough to have sex with him.”

  Elle flushed again. “Did Ahmed tell you that?”

  “No.” A look of mischief crossed Aisha’s face, and her smile flickered brilliantly back to life. Her mood swing was giving Elle whiplash. “But I know my brother. Even though he likes to think he’s a player and doesn’t do emotions, blah, blah, blah—” she made circles in the air with her index finger “—he hasn’t been with any women in a while. I think he’s gotten tired of the whole runaround. He’s ready for something better. For something good.” She looked at Elle meaningfully, blinking. “I mean he’s ready for you.”

  “Yeah, I think I got that much from your hint.” Elle stood up and turned away from Aisha to pace the short length of her office. Her unexpected visitor brought back all of the earlier agitation and sadness she’d managed to suppress by burying herself in work. “He’s not ready for anything more than a lawsuit,” she muttered and pressed a hand over the ache in her chest. “After the way he talked about my business, putting it at risk.” But strangely enough, Romance Perfected had had a steady influx of clients since the morning’s radio show. If things continued the way they were, they’d have to hire an assistant soon.

  Aisha opened the box she’d brought. She plucked a red velvet cupcake from inside and, after tilting it toward Elle with a questioning look and getting a quick shake of Elle’s head, began nibbling on its edge. She made a soft noise of appreciation and Elle watched her with a glimmer of amusement. Had she brought the box for herself or for Elle?

  “He’s not the most in touch with his emotions but he’s not a bad guy,” Aisha said between bites.

  “I…” know. But Elle didn’t say it. Instead she looked away from Aisha and the rabbit-like sounds of her nibbling.

  Something of her discomfort must have shown on her face because Aisha stopped chewing and took the pastry from her mouth. “I’m sorry. My mom’s always saying how inappropriate I can be.” She dropped the cupcake back in the box. “I didn’t come to make you feel weird or anything, I just wanted to let you know that Ahmed…he loves hard, and the things he said to you this morning… A girl messed him up a few years ago, so he’s always going to be suspicious even when paradise is looking him dead in the face. I know it’s an excuse not a reason, but—” Aisha broke off with a sigh.

  She put back the pastry box on Elle’s desk, brushed off her hands and grabbed her purse from where she’d left it on the couch.

  “Just give my brother a chance. It may not seem like he deserves it, but he does.” Then she smiled wide, showing off the gap between her straight white teeth. “Plus I’ve always wanted to have a princess for a sister.” She darted in, quick as a hummingbird, and kissed Elle’s cheek, leaving a hint of cream and sugar behind.

  “See you soon, I hope,” Aisha called out as she disappeared down the hall.

  Elle stared at the empty doorway of her office not quite sure what had just happened.

  *

  If Aisha’s goal had been to make sure Elle didn’t stop thinking about Ahmed, she succeeded. That night, she dreamed about Ahmed as she’d seen him the night they shared a bed, his body slippery with sweat and hard with muscle as he moved over and inside her. Elle woke up gasping his name. She had a few variations on the dream over the next few days, each more explicit than the last, right up until the morning of her meeting with Clive and DJ Don Juan at the radio station.

  To counteract the effect of the dreams, she wore her most severe outfit—a knee-length black dress with a high boat collar and capped sleeves—and she arrived thirty minutes earlier than the time they agreed on. Her one concession to color was a pair of scarlet high heels and matching bag.

  But as soon as she walked through the door, Clive called out her name.

  “Elle!”

  Wearing one of his signature Hawaiian shirts, he walked toward her with his arms held out as if he was about to hug her. She clenched her teeth and kept walking into the building, tempted to look around and check for a camera. How had he known she was coming just then? There had to be cameras. The tap of her heels against the tiles sounded tentative even to her own ears.

  “Clive,” she called back, hoping her smile was more genuine than it felt. “This is quite a welcome.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to make you feel neglected.” His voice boomed down the hallway, and she was grateful when he lowered his hugging hands and only offered a handshake once they were within touching distance of each other.

  “You’ll never have to worry about that,” Elle said. She tucked her red purse over one shoulder and slid her hands into her dress pockets. “Should I head to the studio now or wait until nine thirty?”

  “Let’s go my office first. As promised, I’m giving a refund for half the money you paid for advertising. The check is on my desk.”

  “Okay.” Elle pursed her lips, unable to hide her doubt. She’d paid for the spot online. There was no need or reason for him to give her a physical check. “After you,” she said.

  But he insisted on having her go in front of him, and as they made their way down the wide hallway toward his office, he paused to greet nearly everyone they passed. Finally, he opened the door to his office then stood back to allow Elle to walk ahead of him. As soon as she walked into the office, the door closed behind her. A lock turned, and she was trapped in the office with Clive. And Ahmed Clark.

  Ahmed jumped to his feet, obviously surprised to see Elle. “This isn’t funny, Clive.”

  “Nobody’s laughing, Ahmed.”

  Elle stood near the door. “Is this where I call my lawyer and start my harassment lawsuit?”

  “No. This is where Ahmed apologizes and we can all get on with imagining the ever-after you two will have together.” Clive looked between the two of them like they were being stubborn and unreasonable in not giving him what he wanted.

  Ahmed stood in front of his hastily vacated chair, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He looked pissed. And not in the least ready to give an apology. Even though the farce—another one starring Ahmed Clark—just started, Elle had had enough. She turned and grabbed the door handle.

  “Elle, wait.” But it was Clive who spoke, not Ahmed. She shook her head and kept going, wrenching the door open and stalking out into the hallway and toward the front doors. It seemed like everybody was intent on Ahmed’s apology except for Ahmed himself, and she wasn’t going to wait until hell froze over to get it.

  Clive could keep the damn check.

  *

  She got back to the office after nearly an hour of driving aimlessly around the city. Her anger had blown away, leaving only exhaustion and sadness behind.

  “Elle, is that you?” Shaye called out as soon as she walked into the door.

  “Unless someone else stole my body when I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Come here, girl. Stop messing around. You’ve got to hear this.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  But Shaye practically came running down the hall, a big smile on her face, to drag Elle into her own office. The radio was playing from her computer, and Ahmed was on the air.

  “I do not want to hear that man’s voice,” Elle said. It hurt too much.

  “Just listen!” Shaye turned up t
he volume.

  Not in the mood, Elle heaved a tired sigh and rolled her eyes. But since it would’ve taken energy to resist Shaye, more energy than she had in that moment, she dropped heavily into Shaye’s couch, an old-fashioned granny affair that was much more comfortable than hers, and tried to fix her attitude.

  “—I was stupid,” came from the radio feed in Ahmed’s deep and commanding voice. “And even though I know I made a mistake, and believe me I’ve made plenty in the past, I’ve never been more moved to make an apology as I am right now. Elle, I was wrong. I was stupid. Forgive me. Please.”

  “This is so freakin’ romantic,” Shaye gushed and sank into the couch beside her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Ahmed Clark. He’s telling you he’s sorry.”

  Elle didn’t believe it. “He doesn’t mean it. His family and his boss are practically forcing him to say this—”

  “They’re not.”

  Elle drew in a shocked breath at the sound of Ahmed’s voice, not on the radio but in the doorway of Shaye’s office. She jumped to her feet.

  “What—” But the mad thud of the pulse in her throat prevented her from saying anything else.

  “The show was prerecorded for today.” He walked through the door, his steps timid and tentative—words she would’ve never used before to describe anything he did. Ahmed touched his watch without looking at it.

  “But…why?” A prerecorded show was something he said he would never do. Too inauthentic or something.

  “Because this is important,” he said, gesturing between them. He took a breath that seemed to shake his entire body. “Elle. Gabrielle Marshall. I know this might be too soon, especially after how I acted today, and the last time you saw me and just about every time we’ve been together, but I’d like—” Ahmed roughly shoved his hands into his pants pockets “—I’d very much like the chance to fully apologize to you and make you understand all of this.”

  Elle’s heart turned over in her chest, a painful shifting that made her gasp and clutch at her middle. “I don’t know…” But she was already taking a step toward Ahmed. The twin feelings—wariness and anticipation—twisted her inside out. “You hurt me,” she said to him in a voice she hadn’t heard from herself since she was a child and trapped in foster care with monsters who hurt and took advantage of her.