Morning Man

by Barbara Kellyn

  He knew she was clever, but this was a whole new level of shrewdness. “Ever considered a gig with the FBI?”

  Dayna grinned, looking extremely pleased with herself.

  Tack positioned himself in front of the mike and turned to the staff. “Well, everyone, from the bottom of my heart, thanks for absolutely nothing. Just remember, I know where you all work and I’ll get each one of you back,” he said. “Now, taking you to the top of the hour with Dub Birmingham, here’s eight continuous country hits in a row, kicking off with the most appropriate song I can think of. Here’s Toby Keith with Ain’t As Good As I Once Was.”

  While the staff began filing out, Dub came around the console and patted Tack on the back. “Go enjoy the party. I’ll finish up in here for you guys.”

  He looked up. “You sure?”

  “Definitely. Happy birthday, buddy.”

  He stood and locked hands with Dub, pulling his pal in for a one-armed homie hug. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem. Just save me a piece of cake, okay?” He traded places with Tack in the master control seat and slid up close to the board.

  Tack slung his arm around Dayna’s neck as they left the studio. “And as for you outing me on the air like that? Why I oughta…” He jokingly wound his slugging fist in the air like a cartoon character.

  “I got you real good, didn’t I?” She gleefully skipped ahead.

  “Do I even want to know how you pulled this off?”

  “You told me you were a Leo, so I knew your birthday had to be this summer. I just confirmed the date with Myrna.” She shrugged. “Jared helped me get the photo done, I made the cake last night, and there you go. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “Wait a minute. You made that cake?”

  “Yep. Although I probably shouldn’t have admitted that until you actually tried some first. So, if you like it, I baked it myself. If not, I bought it.”

  “I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

  “Oh, and before I forget, there’s one more thing.” She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a wallet-sized gift box. “I hope you like it. I found it a while ago and thought to myself, ‘Oh man, I just have to get it for Tack.’”

  “Yeah?” Smiling curiously, he quickly peeled back the blue foil wrap with one hand and wriggled the lid free. Inside the box was a shined-up silver belt buckle featuring a fat rooster and elevated letters spelling out Cocky. He threw back his head and barked out a loud laugh.

  She rocked on the balls of her feet. “I thought it’d look hot when you’re strutting around the Roadhouse on Friday nights. It’s going to drive all the girls wild.”

  “I love it,” he said, stunned by her thoughtfulness. “Thank you.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her quickly. “And you know that you’re the only girl who’s got my eye on Fridays or any other day of the week.”

  She hooked her thumbs into his belt loops, resting both hands on his hips as she gazed up at him. “You always know just what to say, cowboy.”

  “Then how ’bout I say you should slip into something real sexy tonight and the two of us will go out for a fancy birthday dinner?”

  “Oh, I wish.” She heaved a sigh. “But we’ve got a ballgame, remember?”

  “Damn it. And we’re playing Shits Ninety-six, aren’t we?”

  “But just think, we’re gonna whip CJ’s ass,” she said brightly before walking her fingers up his chest to his chin. “And maybe afterwards, you and me, I mean, since it is your birthday and all…”

  His heart pounded faster. “Yeah?”

  “I really want us to spend tonight in that big bed of yours…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze focused on his chest as she toyed with one of his shirt buttons. “All night.”

  He swallowed to clear the lump rising in his throat. That one was easier to get rid of fast. “We’ve only got two lousy weeks to go.”

  “I’m just talking sleep. No monkey business.”

  “If I recall correctly, saying the words ‘no monkey business’ rarely guarantees that, in fact, there will be no monkey business.”

  “I’ll be good. I just want to be close to you, that’s all.” She looked up with those big, honey brown eyes and his heart lurched. “I’ll bring my own toothbrush and PJs?”

  His mind zoomed back to how luscious she looked wearing nothing but a short pajama top and a smile. “Dayna, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  She slid a hand up his forearm to his bicep, melting away his resolve. “Every night before I fall asleep, I close my eyes and imagine you’re there holding me,” she said with a little faraway sigh. “I thought maybe, just for tonight–”

  Oh, you sweet thing. Twist me around your little finger, why doncha? “Okay, just for tonight.” He gave in, pressing his forehead to hers as he smiled. “But I swear to God, if there’s any monkey business to be had in that bed, young lady, I’m gonna turn you over my knee and give you a good paddling.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior. It’ll be just like two old pals having a slumber party.”

  Tack smirked. “Somehow, sugar, I really, really doubt that.”

  * * * *

  With a large wedge of red velvet cake and a plastic fork in hand, Dayna followed Tack behind the building to the alley. Although she practically knew Abel like her own friend, butterflies danced nervously in her stomach as the time came for them to finally meet. When they rounded the corner, he was sitting with his back against the station wall, his eyes closed and his short legs outstretched in front of him. At first glance, he looked just the way she had pictured him: a small, black man with graying whiskers, green army jacket, jeans and a black cap pulled tight over his head despite the August heat.

  “Abel?” Tack called out gently to wake him.

  His eyes suddenly opened. “Hey, my friend. You’re here.”

  “I told you I’d be back,” he said, crouching down low before looking up at her. “Remember I said I was going to bring my friend with me? Well, this is Dayna.”

  She smiled. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Abel,” she said, holding out the plate and fork to him. “I thought you might like a piece of birthday cake.”

  “Dayna made it and trust me, it’s fantastic,” Tack said. “I already ate two pieces and I’m thinking of going back for another one yet.”

  Abel politely took it from her with a smile and a nod. “Thank you.”

  Tack silently motioned for her to sit down, so she did, taking a deep breath. “So, I don’t know if Tack told you, but I work here at the station with him.”

  “My friend told me all about you, pretty lady,” he said, slowly taking a bite of cake. “You have a good heart. And angel hair.”

  She curled a ringlet around the tip of her finger. “No one’s ever put it quite that way before. I like that.”

  Tack winked. “Abel’s got a way with the ladies. He’s been teaching me his moves.”

  “Oh, is that so?” She laughed softly. “Well, Tack needs all the help you can give him. Being big, strong and handsome really gives him problems with girls.”

  Abel laughed. “Your girlfriend’s funny, man.”

  He nodded in agreement without chasing away the surprising girlfriend comment. “Yes, she’s very funny. At least she likes to think so.”

  “This cake is real good,” Abel said. “But you shoulda used beet juice. That’ll give a richer red color.”

  Dayna was taken aback and stole a glance up at Tack. “Oh really?”

  “Boiled grated beets,” Abel said. “That’s the old style red velvet.”

  Tack shook his head. “Abel, how do you know so much about making cake?”

  He scooped up another forkful. “Once ’pon a time, I knew all the recipes.”

  “Did you work in a bakery?” she asked.

  “A real big one,” he said, still chewing. “McTavish.”

  Tack s
cratched his beard. “You mean the old McTavish plant in the north industrial park?”

  “Used to make cakes and breads and all kinds of good stuff for restaurants,” Abel told her. “Got up at three AM and made ’em fresh every day.”

  She smiled at Tack. “Well, whaddya know? Another morning man.”

  Abel put the empty foam plate down on the ground and rested the fork on top of it. “That was a real treat, ma’am, thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” she said, taking a breath. “Would you ever consider doing that kind of work again? I’m sure there’s a few bakeries around town that would love to hire a hard worker with your skills.”

  He shook his head. “Ain’t no one gonna hire me now.”

  “Well, you don’t know that. Maybe Tack and I could help you out there.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Wouldn’t you want to tell your kids you found a good job? I think they’d all be real proud of their pop.”

  Abel closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands. “I can’t even tell you how much–” His shaky voice trailed off. “How much that would mean.”

  “It would mean a lot to us too,” she said, choking back tears. “We really do think of you as our friend.”

  He looked up with kind and grateful eyes. “I am blessed.”

  “Let us make a few phone calls, talk to some people and try to find something,” Tack said. “We’ll do our best, but we expect that when the time comes, you will too.”

  Abel stiffened his hand at his brow and saluted sharply. “I won’t let you down, my friend.”

  “Good man.” Tack smiled, slowly rising to his feet again.

  Dayna put her hand inside of Abel’s. It was weathered and calloused, but one of the warmest she’d ever felt. “I’m really glad we got a chance to meet today. I hope it won’t be too long until I can see you again.”

  “I hope not, pretty lady. My angel lady.”

  “Hey, hey now,” Tack interrupted. “What did I tell you about not using all your smooth moves on her?”

  She leaned in closer, putting her hand up to shield her lips from Tack. “He knows I have a thing for sweet talkers.”

  “All the ladies do.” Abel grinned.

  Dayna smiled as she stood up. “You take care. And thanks for the beet juice tip.”

  She wrapped her arm around Tack as they walked away. “He’s so great. Everything you said he’d be.”

  “I just don’t want to get his hopes up and then disappoint him.”

  “That won’t happen. I have a real good feeling that we’ll be able to help him get a second chance.”

  Tack smiled, holding the front door open for her. “Have I ever told you how much I love that you’re a cockeyed optimist?”

  “Well, someone around here better be,” she said, still laughing as Myrna met them in the reception area.

  “Oh, Dayna, I was just paging you. There’s a long-distance call on line three.”

  “For me? Who is it?”

  “I don’t know but he’s calling from Canada.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Uh, well, okay. I guess I’ll take it in the office. Thanks.”

  “I’m going downstairs to see if El’s got any spots for me,” Tack said. “You want me to pick you up before the game tonight? Say, sixish?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. Plus, it will drive CJ completely nuts.”

  He cackled. “Bonus!”

  She zipped into the office and picked up the call waiting on the line. “Hi, this is Dayna Cook.”

  “Hi, Dayna. My name is Bucky Dawson. I’m the program director at Big Country Q-Ninety-two in Calgary, Alberta.”

  She sat down on the edge of the desk. “Yes, Bucky. How can I help you?”

  “I recently passed through Ohio and managed to catch your show with Tack Collins. Really good stuff.”

  “Thanks, we haven’t been at it all that long, but we’ve had pretty good response.”

  “I’d say you’ve had great response. I’m looking at some reports right now with some impressive numbers right in the twenty-five-to-fifty-four sweet spot.”

  “Well, thanks,” she said, puzzled over why he’d be calling her instead of Tack.

  “Let me get down to the reason I’m calling,” Bucky said, as if reading her mind. “We’re Canada’s third largest country station, but we’ve gradually lost footing in our AM slot. I’m on a quest to shore that up by putting together the best morning team I possibly can this fall.”

  “Uh-huh.” I still don’t get what this has to do with me.

  “I’d like to know what it would take to have you consider joining us.”

  Me? “Me?”

  “I think you’d make a dynamite addition to our team, Dayna. I’ve brought in one of the top radio hosts from Vancouver and I’d like to consider you a potential candidate to sit in the chair next to him.”

  She shook her head. “Gee, Bucky, I’m so flattered that you’d just call me up out of the blue, but–”

  “You’re a real spark. Funny, bright and bubbly, and judging by the photos up on your station’s website, you’re pretty damn photogenic too. I don’t have to tell you how much good image marketing matters these days.”

  “Well, thanks, but I’m sorry, I just don’t think the timing is right for me.”

  “Look, we’ve been doing try-outs with a couple different co-hosts over the summer. I understand that it’s short notice, but if you’re game, I’d like to fly you in this weekend for a two-week trial run with Gord Johnson.”

  She exhaled deeply, her head spinning. “Again, I appreciate you thinking of me for your show, but Tack and I are a team. It’s only because of working with him that I’m even half as capable as you think. He’s the real pro. He just makes me look good.”

  “Dayna, Dayna,” he said with a soft chuckle. “You’ve got what it takes to be a big star. You shouldn’t hitch your wagon to Collins or anyone else if you want to ever get ahead in this business.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t quite say I’ve hitched my wagon to him, but…”

  “Look, just let this sit for a day and then give me a call.”

  “Sure,” her lips said while her brain already knew there was no way in hell she’d change her mind. “When’s the latest you need an answer?”

  “How about yesterday? I need to get my new Big Country morning team in place as soon as possible.”

  Dayna jotted down his number before saying goodbye. She took several moments to absorb the strange and unexpected call. On one hand, it was impossible not to be incredibly flattered to receive a dream offer like that.

  And then, on the other hand, there was Tack.

  Chapter 14

  Tack hunched low in right field, pounding his fist into the pocket of his glove as he glared hard at CJ, inching further away from first base and poised to steal second. The 96ers were closing in on the Wranglers’ one-point lead at the bottom of the seventh after scoring a two-run homer. With their final batters coming up to the plate, Tack was fiercely determined not to let CJ become the leaderboard hero.

  “Hey, Maroni, I see you gave up that pathetic beard,” he called out mockingly. “Not enough testosterone, huh?”

  “Believe me, I got plenty.” CJ grinned, grabbing his crotch. “Ask your girlfriend.”

  His blood boiled. He knew full well that Dayna’s feelings for CJ were deader than disco, but it still didn’t erase the fact that the scumbag had once shared her bed. It was the one page of her history he wanted to tear out and incinerate beyond recognition.

  Thunder rumbled overhead as Elliott threw out the pitch. The petite batter bunted for an easy single, moving CJ up to second. “Get ready to feel the earth move, baby, cause I’m a-comin,’” he called out to Dayna guarding third.

  “That might be a tad premature,” she shouted back. “But coming from you, that’s no surprise.”

  “Ha!” Tack laughed. That’s my girl.

  Dub tried firing up the team from his shortstop positi
on. “Come on, Wranglers, wake up out there!” He flailed his arms as he turned in place. “One more out and then we can kick some ass.”

  A solidly-built southpaw took several wide practice swings behind home plate, then stepped up. Dub looked over his shoulder and pointed at Tack. “It’s all you, man.”

  Rain started spitting, but Tack only pulled the brim of his hat lower and punched his glove fiercely, his eyes trained on the batter. The first pitch was low. Ball one. It was quickly followed by another, this time low and wide. Ball two.

  “Don’t walk him, for Chrissake!” Dub stormed the pitcher’s mound.

  Elliott frowned and said something inaudible, but it looked as if Dub got the message loud and clear. He returned to his position with his trap shut.

  Elliott wound up and threw the third pitch. With a mighty crack, it cleared the infield straight over Lisa’s head at second and zipped straight toward Tack. “Got it,” he called, his glove snatching the ball clean out of the air before he whipped it in to Dub.

  “Here!” Dayna screeched. With a quick turn, Dub snapped the ball. She caught it and tagged the bag as CJ dropped to the ground and slid hard into third, knocking her feet out from under her and sending her flying.

  “Out!” Dub bellowed, jumping in the air victoriously.

  “Dayna!” Tack’s heart stopped as panic shot through him. He threw down his glove in the grass and sprinted across the diamond to her side. “Jesus, are you okay?”

  She winced as she slowly crawled off CJ. “Uh, yeah, I think so.” Tack hooked her arm around his neck, gently scooping her toward him. She tipped her glove upright to show him that she was still gripping the ball. “Well, well. Look what I caught.”

  He grinned. “You just might make the SportsCenter highlight reel tonight.”

  “Mother Murphy, are you okay?” Elliott asked, his face filled with worry as the rest of their teammates rushed over. “You caught some air, but wow…what a play.”

  “Yeah, I’ll live.” She groaned, brushing away the dirt and pebbles embedded in her flesh.

  Tack examined her leg, running his hand over her ankle to make sure it wasn’t fractured. “Wiggle it for me.”