Ten Years Later

by Lisa Marie Latino

  Dan cleared his throat. “I’m sure you wondering why you’re both in here today.”

  “A little bit, yeah,” Dante answered softly.

  “Well, we’re shuffling things around, and effective immediately, Jackie Grimes and Eddie Moore are no longer hosting the mid-morning show...”

  I felt Dante fidget in his seat. I held my breath and clenched my eyes, bracing myself for the other end of that sentence—

  “And we’d like to move you two into that time slot.”

  “Pahhhhh.” My eyes shot open as the air loudly left my mouth.

  Dante sprung up from his seat and peered over Dan’s desk. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what I mean…what do you mean?” Dan scrunched up his face in confusion. “You two are being moved to the midday slot.”

  Dan turned to me. “Carla, this means you are no longer producing Tommy and Ruby.”

  A wash of numbness came over my body. All I could do was blink back at him.

  “Oh…” Dante trailed off, sitting back down. From the corner of my eye, I could see Dante turn to look at me, but I couldn’t move; I was literally paralyzed.

  “We need both of your undivided attention to bring this time period’s ratings from out of the gutter,” Dan continued. “I cannot stress enough how big your roles are. You will now be the lead-in for the country’s biggest sports radio show. Do you think you can handle it?”

  Dante burst out laughing. “Is that even a question?”

  Dan turned to me. “What about you, Carla?”

  “Uh huh,” I barely managed to muster.

  “Great.” Dan smiled, clapping his hands. “Things are going to be moving pretty quickly over the next twenty-four hours. We have to get contracts together for your agents to review, and marketing needs to meet with you over headshots, bios, that sort of thing.”

  Dan’s office suddenly transformed into the Graviton. “What about today’s show?”

  “Rusty is on his way in to take over your duties for the rest of the afternoon, and we’ll have the new producer in place tomorrow. Rusty will continue working with the both of you. Any more questions?”

  “Nope!” Dante replied brightly.

  I started to get feeling back in my limbs, and raised my hand. “I do.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why all THIS?” I exclaimed, extending both my arms out. “I mean...this is...like...unbelievable!”

  “We believe that a special show like yours deserves better than to air in obscurity. You are both young, unique, and extremely talented, and we believe that’s going to resonate with our next generation of listeners and...” He trailed off. “Wow, that’s a good quote for the press release,” he muttered to himself. He turned to his computer and typed out his words.

  My eyes bugged out of their sockets. I’d waited YEARS for Dan to use words like “talented” to describe me. To hear the words finally come from his mouth was a redeeming moment, one I was still hard-pressed to believe was actually happening.

  Dante and I both rose from the couch. “Thank you, Dan,” Dante said, extending his hand. “We won’t let you down.”

  “You better not,” Dan laughed.

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” I gushed.

  Dan took my hand. “You’ve come a long way, Carla.”

  “Thank you,” I smiled, although I did not agree. I’d been this way all along; it was my fault that I never made him realize. But now was not the time to look back on past failures. (I mean, I didn’t have all day.)

  “Ok, so call your agents, and do whatever you have to do. Meet back here in an hour.”

  Dante and I quietly filed out of his office. As we walked down the hallway, I felt Dante grab my arm and pull me into the copy room.

  “Ow!” I protested, tugging my arm out of his grasp.

  “Carla, do you understand what just happened in there?” Dante gasped.

  “Actually, no,” I laughed. “I don’t even know what’s going on right now.”

  Dante leaned his head up against the wall. “Wow…” he whistled, dragging his body down and ending up sitting on the floor.

  “You’re telling me.” I settled next to him, drawing my knees towards my chest.

  “And I thought this was going to be a short-lived gig,” Dante sighed. “I guess I can kiss my music career goodbye.”

  “What career?” I sniffed.

  “Funny. You didn’t have much of a career either until two minutes ago.”

  “You’re wrong; I’ve always had a career. I’ve just never had a life up until now, or at least a life to be proud of…” Just then, the details started to hit me. I excitedly turned to Dante. “I don’t have to produce Ruby anymore!” I shrieked, shaking his shoulders as I jumped up. “I don’t have to deal with that demanding, evil, ANNOYING, crazy bitch ever again!” I gleefully announced, pacing around the room.

  Dante snickered as he bent his knee and rested his forearm on it. “Tell us how you really feel,” he quipped.

  “You have no idea what that woman puts me through. I felt trapped in a torture chamber six hours a day. It was INSANE!” I clasped my hands together and raised them to the ceiling in victory. “I’m finally free. I’M FREE!”

  I kneeled down next to Dante. “Not only am I free,” I hurriedly continued, grabbing his leg. “But I have weekends again. I’m getting a raise! I’M ACTUALLY GETTING A RAISE! I haven’t had a raise in YEARS!”

  “So this is what you are happy about? Nothing else?” Dante questioned.

  “Of course, I’m happy about the other stuff!”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing—,” Dante started to say

  “It’s just that right now,” I interrupted him. “I may be a tad happier knowing that the black cloud that has followed me since birth is finally gone.”

  “Yeah, but now I feel like the trapped one,” Dante sighed.

  “Why?!” I screeched.

  “I don’t want to be doing this forever! I mean, it’s fun and all, but I was born to be under the lights, performing on the big stage.”

  “But you are on a stage,” I calmly explained, despite the panic rising through my body. “It’s just a different kind. And you could still do music.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know,” Dante frowned. “I don’t think I can do this. Would you be mad?”

  “WHAT?” I shot up. “I’d KILL you! Without you, there’s no show! Dan wouldn’t dare put me on by myself!”

  Dante’s blue eyes were filled with worry. His face turned a deep shade of red.

  “Do you really not want to do this?” I cried.

  Dante dramatically stood up. “I love fucking with you,” he cracked.

  I slapped him on the shoulder. “I hate you!”

  “Repeat what you said about the show,” he said in between big, boisterous laughs. “That without me…what?”

  I playfully kicked the back of his knee as we walked out of the copy room.

  ■ ■ ■

  The rest of the afternoon was a firestorm of activity. I had to call my brand-new agent (a family friend my father insisted I use when I started the weekend shows) and get him in touch with the WSPS Legal Department. Dante and I met with Marketing to go over the whole promotion plan for the show and ourselves.

  “We need to book you for professional headshots, and you need to submit bios by the end of the week,” WSPS’ fast-talking marketing director, Brenda, ordered in her heavy Brooklyn accent. “We are going to set each of you up on all the major social media sites, and it’s up to you to keep it constantly updated. Each week we’re going to tape a video blog with you for the website, and you are required to submit a written one as well, on deadline. Got it?”

  “Done!” I chirped.

  “Why?” Dante complained.

  Brenda rolled her eyes. “You need to connect with your listeners around the clock. It’s a different world for you now.”

  As Br
enda continued to ramble off our new tasks, I studied my reflection in her office mirror. My makeup-less face looked tired and bloated; months of stress and total neglect had definitely taken their toll. There was no way in hell I was doing a photo shoot looking like this! If I’m going to be front and center, I need to get serious about making some changes, I vowed. I promised myself to give Xander a call the second I got to my car.

  From there, we went back to Dan’s office to meet with Legal and our agents, who rushed into the city. An hour later, I had an official contract hot off the press, ready for me to sign. Dan wasn’t kidding when he said things would move quickly!

  As I went through each page and initialed the bottom, I encountered the number of my new salary. I bit the bottom of my lip to prevent myself from freaking out. I looked at Dante, who clearly was on the same page of the packet; he was ready to rocket out of his seat. We smiled at each other, and gleefully initialed the bottom of that page. What’s up new car…new wardrobe… new life! (Who was I kidding? My parents were going to make me sock all of that in savings.)

  As soon as our names were on the dotted line, Legal and our agents booked it. Dan held us for a few more minutes to talk over some things, then finally, we were done. My head was swimming with new information and things to do, but on the top of that list was catching up on what I’d missed today in the world of sports. I did have a show tomorrow to prep for, after all!

  As Dante and I bid Dan goodbye, the door swung open. “What the hell?” Dan choked as Ruby Smith barreled in.

  “Why wasn’t I informed of this change?” she barked, pushing Dante and me out of the way and stood nose-to-nose with our boss.

  “It all came down last—”

  “You don’t think I’m owed some sort of explanation? What kind of Mickey Mouse organization are you running?”

  “Ruby, calm down. It’s not like that.”

  “I DON’T DESERVE SOME SORT OF SAY?” she shouted.

  Dante’s mouth dropped in horror. He had a taste of Ruby months before, in this very office, when he first got hired. However, he hadn’t been treated to a showcase featuring her in all her glory…until now.

  I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Rookie,” I snickered.

  “Ruby, please, let me explain—”

  “Not that Carla did any sort of special job anyway,” Ruby continued, ignoring him. “But to yank her in the middle of the show ruins my flow. It is unprofessional.”

  “I understand, but I had to—”

  “What did she screw up?” Ruby sneered. “It must have been a doozy for you to act in such an irrational manner.”

  “She didn’t,” Dan proclaimed, his forehead full of perspiration. “I promoted her.”

  Ruby gasped. “You…what?”

  “I promoted her,” Dan repeated. “And Dante. Meet your new lead-in show!”

  Ruby turned around. I pursed my lips together and gave her a short wave. Dante shifted uneasily in his place. “You promoted…them?” Ruby said, aghast.

  “I meant to tell you later—”

  “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?”

  “Ruby—”

  “I know a THOUSAND people better suited for the position than these two,” Ruby sneered.

  “Corporate wanted them,” Dan shrugged.

  Ah, the truth comes out. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Boss! Dante cleared his throat, upon feeling the knife spear through his back from his “buddy.”

  “My agent is definitely going to hear about this,” Ruby threatened.

  Dan hung his head in shame. She grunted as she ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. An uneasy silence filled the air.

  “That was Ruby’s way of saying she’s going to miss me,” I cracked.

  ■ ■ ■

  The second I got in my car, I called Xander to get back on his personal training calendar. “Cowabunga, dude!” was his reaction. How did Andrea wind up with such a cornball?

  After we had hung up, it took all my might not to dial home. In the whirlwind of the day, I hadn’t had a chance to call my family to announce my promotion, but since I’d come this far, I decided to break the news to them in person.

  As I came out of the Jersey side of the Holland Tunnel, my phone rang. It was Mom. I had no choice but to pick up, unless I wanted to hear my phone ring continuously for the next thirty minutes. “Hi Mom,” I said casually.

  “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU GOT PROMOTED?”

  “Huh?” I gasped.

  “I JUST GOT A GOOGLE ALERT ON MY PHONE THAT THE STATION PROMOTED YOU AND DANTE.”

  Ugh, she was so loud. “I wanted to tell you in person. I didn’t know it would be online already. What does it say?”

  “D’AGOSTINO, EZRA NAMED—”

  “SAY IT, DON’T SCREAM IT!”

  “Fine,” Mom sighed, clearing her throat: “D’Agostino, Ezra named new mid-day hosts for W-S-P-S Sports Radio 950 AM.

  “W-S-P-S, the nation’s number one sports radio station, today announced the promotion of Carla D’Agostino and Dante Ezra to the weekday mid-day slot, effective immediately.

  “D’Agostino and Ezra have co-hosted the weekend overnight show since the start of the year. Additionally, D’Agostino served as producer for The Tommy Max and Ruby Smith Show, the country’s number one syndicated radio sports talk program. Overall, she has been an employee of W-S-P-S for five years. Ezra has been with the station since last summer.

  “‘It became rapidly apparent that a special show like Carla and Dante’s deserved a marquee spot in our lineup,” said Dan Durkin, founder and program director of

  W-S-P-S. “The chemistry of this duo transcends the airwaves. Their fiery passion and vast sports knowledge will resonate with our current listeners, and their exuberant youth will help introduce the esteemed W-S-P-S brand to the next generation of New York sports fans.”

  “D’Agostino and Ezra, both from Honey Crest, New Jersey, will be the new lead-in team for Smith and Max.

  “‘I started my career at W-S-P-S, and have been very fortunate to work in a place that nurtures talent and encourages growth while learning from the best in the business,’” said D’Agostino. “‘It has been a privilege producing The Tommy Max and Ruby Smith Show, and we are honored to be passing the baton to them each afternoon.’”

  “‘This whole experience has been very humbling,’” added Ezra. “For Carla and me to be representing the station in such a big way, and to have a spot in W-S-P-S lore, is an absolute dream come true.’”

  Bullshit 101, ladies and gentlemen.

  ■ ■ ■

  The next morning, I woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. Instead of throwing on a sweat suit and wrapping my curly hair in a messy bun, I actually took the time to get ready; I wanted to look as good as I felt.

  But of course, I had to deal with some level of self-inflicted drama. (Why can’t anything ever be easy in my life?) The last thing I needed to do was to pluck some stray hairs from my eyebrows, but I couldn’t find the tweezers in my jumbled-up mess of a purse. Now I was frantically searching my bedroom, with only five minutes to spare.

  “Could it be in here?” I muttered to myself, rummaging through each disorganized drawer of my desk. I opened the top drawer and hunted through a bunch of dried up pens, stray envelopes, and loose CDs. Towards the back, I found a crumpled up ball of paper with my handwriting scribbled all over it. Curiously, I opened it up.

  “Aw!” I exclaimed when I realized what it was. It was the blueprint of my “grand ten-year reunion plan,” one that was supposed to hatch in roughly two months.

  Abandoning my tweezers search, I sat on my bed to read my words from ten months before. It’s not that I forgot what I wrote, but over the course of the past few months I’ve misplaced a lot more than just beauty supplies:

  I will walk through the Honey Crest High School gymnasium doors an amazing, accomplished woman. I will have a handsome, successful lawyer on my arm, who had just recently proposed with a 2
karat, platinum Tiffany Novo ring. I’ll have a rock-hard, size 4 body. I’ll have my own sports-talk show on WSPS. My 500+ former classmates will rush to congratulate me on all my achievements (and when I’m not looking, most will enviously talk behind my back). My fiancé, my best friends, and I will merrily drink and dance the night away. At the end of the night, my man and I will retire to our brand new waterfront condo overlooking the New York City skyline, and make passionate love until the sun comes up.

  As things stood, one item definitely, surprisingly had come true (WSPS). One could come close to being true if I stuck to what Xander told me (body). One could come true, but not right now (condo). And one was so far from ever coming true, I might as well scratch it off this list (love).

  Without even thinking twice about it, I tore the paper up and threw it in the garbage. So what if I was batting .250 in this game? I was damn proud of my one hit. The rest would fall into place, at the proper time. I was no longer going to sweat it.

  See what a little success can do for the soul?

  21

  Day 313

  Knock, knock, knock!

  “It’s too early,” I moaned, throwing a pillow over my head.

  KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

  “Stoppp!” I pleaded.

  POUND, POUND, POUND!

  I knew it was never going to stop. I begrudgingly peeled myself off the most fluffy, comfortable bed in the universe to get the door.

  “CARLAAAAAAAAAA!”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I unlocked the deadbolt, and there before me stood my aggravating human alarm clock.

  “Our wedding day is here!” Mom cheerfully announced, pushing past me. She started twirling around the room like a ballerina and stopped at the window to throw open the blinds.

  I shielded my face against the glaring sun. “Our wedding day?”

  “It is the most beautiful day for the most beautiful of weddings!” She walked up to me and hit the back of my head. “Now wake up. Your hair appointment is in an hour!”

  I stretched my arms to the ceiling as I watched Mom skip out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Today was my brother’s wedding day, and she was already off to a flying start in setting the new bar for “annoying”.