Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger

by Kimberly Lang

  Dev’s “ahem” brought her back to the present. He was indicating a chair. “You’ll sit here. That’s your mic—be sure you get close to it, or folks won’t be able to hear you. Here—” he handed her a set of headphones “—put these on. And don’t touch anything.”

  Megan bristled. “I’m not five. I think I can handle that.” Trying to look as if she did things like this all the time, she settled into the chair and smiled through the window at Kate.

  “This is your last chance to back out, Megan. We’re going to be live, and while there’s a five-second delay, I won’t be able to walk you through one of your panic attacks.”

  She almost let a sarcastic comment fly before she realized Dev had every right to be concerned about his show. It was the sign of a professional. She needed to respect that—at least while they were on the air. She’d keep her tongue behind her teeth if it killed her in the process.

  She tried for a noncommittal tone. “I haven’t had a panic attack in years, but thanks for your concern.”

  Dev looked surprised. “You haven’t? That’s a surprise.”

  “Do you think I could help other people if I couldn’t learn to help myself first? I wouldn’t have lasted long in this business if I couldn’t talk to people.”

  “That’s impressive, Meggie. Good for you.”

  She couldn’t quite tell if that was grudging admiration in his tone or more sarcasm. She chose to accept the compliment, regardless of its sincerity. “Thank you. It means I should be able to get through this just fine.” At least I hope so. She could feel all kinds of old insecurities bubbling up to the surface, and they felt much like a panic attack.

  As Devin pulled his chair up to the desk, she realized how small the booth was. Not claustrophobic small, but not large enough to be in with your ex-husband sucking up all the oxygen, either. By the time she got her chair in place, only about a foot of space separated them. She tucked her feet under the chair, not wanting her legs and feet to accidentally tangle with his. No footsie under the table tonight.

  Kate signaled them, and Devin put his headphones on. She did the same, and a panicky flutter started in her stomach. She took deep, calming breaths, trying to focus.

  Through her headphones she heard Devin’s theme music and intro. Then Devin leaned into the mic and started to speak.

  It was as if his lips were only inches from her ear. She jumped, and her hands flew to her headphones, nearly pulling them off her ears in response to that baritone seeming to speak only to her.

  She caught herself and pretended to adjust the headphones instead. Just another thing she hadn’t prepared herself for. Her need to stammer seemed right on the end of her tongue, but Kate and Devin were bantering a bit, and the mention of her name returned her attention to the proper place.

  “…welcome Dr. Megan Lowe, my ex-wife, to the show.”

  Both Devin and Kate looked at her, obviously expecting a response, and for a moment she faltered. Her heart thudded in her chest. How many people were listening? Every old insecurity she thought she’d buried was clawing its way to the surface.

  Then Devin smirked at her.

  A little spark of ire flared in her stomach, and that helped her gain control of herself. Trying to match his mock, she plastered a smile on her face, leaned into the microphone and prepared to meet the nation. “Thanks, Dev. I can’t say I’m pleased to be here, but I appreciate the invitation, nonetheless.”

  He’d expected Megan to fold long before now. Saying she’d outgrown her shyness was a far cry from actually doing so, and he’d been ready to kill her mic and go to tape if she had a total meltdown. But twenty minutes into the show she sounded cool and poised, and her voice carried just a touch of mocking cynicism.

  He’d seen the tiny flare of panic rise, but only someone who knew her very well would know that the wrinkle in her forehead was a warning sign of her discomfort. But the panic was gone as quickly as it had risen, and she managed to sound both amused and bored with the circus the media had made of her life and the outlandish speculation Kate had found on the blogs.

  Megan’s voice slid a notch down on the register as she leaned into the mic, giving her a seductive, husky tone that had to have half his male listeners at attention. He certainly was. When Kate commented on the main talking point—the fact Megan counseled couples to stay together when she herself was divorced—Megan chuckled.

  She might as well have run a hand over him. The sound seemed to hum through his headphones directly through his body as if they were alone. Intimate.

  He tried to shake off the feeling, but when Megan tilted her chin half an inch in his direction, he wondered if she’d done it on purpose.

  No, Megan couldn’t think she’d still have an effect on him after all these years. Hell, he wouldn’t have dreamed it was possible if he hadn’t felt the electric shiver over his skin.

  Through the window Kate beamed an I-told-you-so grin, but she would have been equally glad to have Megan crash and burn. Kate pointed at her computer, meaning the callers were lining up. A glance at his screen confirmed it.

  Seemed as if Megan was on her way to fifteen minutes of fame instead of shame. He was oddly, inexplicably proud of her.

  He brought the first caller on. “Caller, you’re on the air.”

  “This is Andrea from Las Vegas. I’m a big fan of your show, Devin, but my question is actually for Dr. Megan.”

  Megan covered an amused snort with a small cough before she turned to him and mouthed, “Dr. Megan? Really?”

  He shrugged.

  Megan shook her head and leaned into the mic. “Hi, Andrea. What’s your question?”

  “So why’d you two get divorced? Who left who?”

  Oh, he couldn’t wait to hear her answer to this. When Megan looked to him, question written all over her pixie features, he folded his arms over his chest and shrugged.

  Megan stuck out her tongue at him before she answered. “Devin and I were young when we got married—college sweethearts, in fact—and we had some maturity issues and some disagreements about what we wanted from our lives and each other. Those differences proved to be irreconcilable.”

  “So Devin left you?” It was more of a statement than a question. Maybe he should have warned her his listeners wouldn’t accept vagueness.

  He saw Megan’s shoulders straighten. “Actually, I left Devin and filed for divorce.”

  At the caller’s gasp of disbelief, he cut in, challenging Megan with a grin. “Hard to believe, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes, but picked up the gauntlet. “Trust me, Andrea, he totally deserved it.” Her grin turned slightly evil, but her voice sounded conspiratorial. “He wasn’t always this charming, you know.”

  “But surely he was still this hot, even back then. You had to be crazy to walk away from that,” the caller continued, and through the booth’s window he could see Kate practically crowing in glee as the queue of callers grew longer.

  Megan cleared her throat. “There’s a lot more to a good marriage than the hotness of one partner. Lust can only hold a couple together for so long—at some point there has to be something more. Some commonality. Some kind of meeting of the minds. I’m not implying that Dev’s just a pretty face….” She trailed off, doing exactly that.

  Kate was about to fall off her chair in excitement, and Megan shot him a look of triumph. The computer in front of him flashed as listener emails started flooding his in-box. It was time for him to take his show back in hand, damn it.

  “Emotional stability helps a relationship, too. Both partners need to be mental adults.” Megan’s jaw dropped at the insult, and her eyes narrowed at him. He ignored her. “Thanks for your question, caller. Kate, who’s next on the line?”

  The next few callers were predictable—folks commenting on the hype and irony, asking them to confirm or deny more rumors—but as the show went on, there were a few callers who were, amazingly enough, more interested in getting out of their own marriages than how or why
he ended his.

  He was trying to explain—for the thousandth time—that covering one’s assets did not mean hiding assets, since hiding assets was illegal in all states. The caller kept interrupting with bitter condemnations of his wife, as if that would allow him freedom with financial disclosure laws.

  Pete-from-Tennessee harrumphed when Devin stopped to take a breath.

  “Excuse me, can I butt in for a second?”

  It was the first time Megan had commented on any question not directed at her or their past. He’d seen her shake her head a few times, and she’d probably bitten holes in her tongue, but she’d stayed off his “turf.”

  When he turned in her direction, he could see the frown between her eyebrows. She was drumming her fingers lightly on the desktop. “You have something to add, Dr. Megan?”

  She frowned at his use of her new nickname, but she nodded to him before turning to the mic. “Pete, I’m hearing a lot of anger and a lot of bitterness. I’m not saying it’s not justified, and without talking to you more or hearing your wife’s side of the story, I can’t offer any advice. But,” she stressed as both Devin and the caller tried to interrupt, “I’m also hearing hurt and jealousy, and that tells me there’s something else going on. Have you talked about some of these issues with your wife? Or a counselor?”

  “Megan…” Devin started, but she held up a hand to stay him.

  “Well, Pete?”

  Pete-from-Tennessee muttered something unintelligible. Then he cleared his throat. “Not everyone needs—or wants—therapy, Dr. Megan.”

  “I understand that. But something tells me you and your wife have some communication problems. You might benefit from a few sessions with a counselor.”

  “You’re a shrink. That’s how you make your money. Of course you don’t think people should get divorced,” Pete-from-Tennessee grumbled.

  “On the contrary, I’d never advocate anyone stay in a marriage where they were mentally, emotionally, or physically in danger of any kind. There are some marriages that can’t be saved.” She met Devin’s eyes evenly. “And there are some that shouldn’t.”

  Then Megan’s voice took on an earnest and almost hypnotic quality. The combination of compassion and concern tempered with a no-nonsense tone had even him listening carefully. “But from what you’re saying, Pete, I’m not sure your marriage is firmly in either of those camps. Marriage isn’t easy. Sometimes you have to fight for it. But it can be worth the battle.”

  They must have taught Megan that idea in graduate school, because that certainly wasn’t her thinking when she walked out on him. The caller’s sputters had lapsed into silence, so Devin asked the question hanging in the air. “You agree, though, that divorce is sometimes the best thing?”

  Megan met his eyes again, and the mood in the booth shifted. “I do. Sometimes divorce is the best and the healthiest option for both partners. Some people just shouldn’t be together. It’s a cold, hard fact that can be difficult to admit, but once those couples split, they usually find themselves to be happier.”

  “What? No romantic notions about happily-ever-after or psychobabble—”

  “Happily-ever-after isn’t a romantic notion—but it’s not guaranteed, either. Love and passion will only get you so far—like to the altar. It isn’t always enough for a successful marriage.”

  Oh, he knew all about love and passion, and from the look on Megan’s face, she was remembering a few choice moments from their history, too. But they also both knew the reality of it not being enough. He didn’t break the stare, but he did try to inject a lighter tone to his next words for the sake of his audience. “Isn’t that the truth.”

  Megan’s brows drew together in a frown, and the intense stare changed to a dirty look. “Pete, do me a favor, okay? Talk to your wife before you get any more advice from a divorce lawyer. You may be partly right—I do tend to look for ways to heal a marriage. It’s my nature and my job. But a divorce lawyer makes his money off your unhappiness and therefore has an unhealthy interest in your attempts to reconcile with your spouse.”

  Devin heard the caller take a deep breath. “I’ll think about what you said, Dr. Megan.”

  Megan was good—he’d give her that—but the smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and the mocking lift of her eyebrows told him she knew it, too. He’d had a lot thrown at him in the past forty-eight hours, but this new side of Megan was the hardest of all to grasp.

  “That’s all I ask. Good luck, Pete, to both you and your wife. I hope you can figure out what’s best for you both in the long term.”

  Kate took the opportunity to break in. “And on that note, we need to take a short break for your local news update and a message from our sponsors.” A second later she indicated they were clear, and Kate began to gush. “You two are fabulous together! The chemistry is just amazing and the audience is eating it up. Have you seen the call queue? The mail piling up in the show’s in-box? You guys are a hit! I knew you would be!” Kate wiggled in her chair, something he recognized as her “ratings dance.” “Oh, and you have three minutes.”

  He took off his headphones and Megan did the same, a confused look on her face. “Three minutes of what?”

  “A break.” He moved the mics out of the way. “What the hell was that about?”

  She’d started reaching for her water when he mentioned a break, but his angry question had her responding in an equally snide tone. “What was what about?”

  “Counseling my callers?”

  “Sorry, but that’s my job.” Megan didn’t sound the least bit sorry, and that tweaked his ire a little more.

  “Not on my show, it’s not. My callers want advice about breaking up, not psychobabble about making up.”

  “There was absolutely no psychobabble at all in anything I said to that caller. Just the truth. Maybe divorce is the best thing for that guy and his wife, but I’m not going to sit here and let you dish out all that bitterness on someone who might be able to be happy if you didn’t egg him on and make him believe a divorce is the best idea ever.”

  “Sometimes it is. You said so yourself. And you would know, of course.”

  Megan’s eye began to twitch. “You’re not wrong about that. Trust me when I say that divorcing you was certainly the best idea I ever had.”

  I really do need some anger-management classes. Megan winced inwardly at the nasty remark that hung in the air between them.

  Being around Devin—and the tension that proximity caused—was doing bad things to her brain and releasing the brake on her tongue. What had she expected? Things to be different?

  Doing the same thing and expecting different results was the classic definition of insanity. Doctor, heal thyself.

  But the words were out there now, and she couldn’t see a graceful retreat from them. Too much of their past had been stirred up for that.

  Dev’s eyes narrowed, telling her she’d scored a direct hit with that outburst. “And yet you claim to be a marriage advocate. The hypocrisy doesn’t bother you?”

  Oh, now he’d crossed a line. “Hypocrisy? You’re getting on your soapbox about hypocrisy? That’s a laugh. You’re the biggest hypocrite on the planet. And, again, I’m in a position to know that for a fact. Too bad it’s not grounds for divorce in Illinois. I’d have gotten more alimony.”

  Kate’s voice came over a small speaker. “Um, guys? I hate to interrupt—this looks, um, fascinating—but you’ve got one minute.”

  A muscle in Dev’s jaw twitched. Oh, he was really itching for a fight now. But then, so was she. Going back on the air with him now might be a big mistake, considering how loose her tongue was today. But walking out now? In the middle of the show? That would only undo every bit of damage control she’d managed to accomplish tonight. There was no good to be found anywhere in this situation now. She was damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

  Dev glared at her as he scooted his chair to the table and grabbed his headphones. “We’ll finish this conversation
later.” He motioned her to silence as the red light came back on and Kate brought them back from commercial.

  Megan had to give him credit—no one in Listener Land would know he was shooting daggers at her as she moved her chair and positioned her microphone. His voice carried none of the heat he’d just blasted her with as he started back into his show.

  That lack sent warning shivers up her spine.

  Kate motioned to her to put her headphones on. With a sigh, she did.

  “Hi, caller, you’re on the air.”

  “Hi, Devin. This is Terri from Albuquerque. I’m a long-time listener, but a first-time caller. And I just have to ask you and Dr. Megan something.”

  “Go ahead, Terri. Megan and I are open books tonight.” Dev raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. “No holds barred.”

  Megan shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “What’s the story with you two? You haven’t really told us what the problem was.”

  Devin gave her a look that made her regret she’d let Kate talk her into this in the first place.

  She was definitely moving to Canada.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MEGAN KEPT UP A GOOD GAME for the listeners for the remainder of the show, but Devin could tell something was going on. She avoided eye contact unless absolutely necessary and when she did meet his eyes, she couldn’t hold it for long. The technology in the booth seemed to fascinate her, but he could tell that interest was feigned. During the breaks she asked questions about how everything worked and even chatted with Kate some, but after that first heated exchange, all the fire seemed to drain out of her.

  “Great show, guys.” Kate cut the feed from the studio, ending their broadcast and turning it over to Lola’s Late Night Love Show from a station in New York. “The mucky-mucks at corporate are going to be beyond thrilled. I got several calls from morning shows there toward the end.”

  Megan had been busily rooting in her bag, but her head jerked up sharply at Kate’s words. “What do you mean, morning shows?”