Heat Waves

by Janelle Denison

  If her evening show took Tori's mind off her grief and problems for a few hours, then Erica couldn't deny her that pleasure. "The man is very opinionated, don't you think?" she asked, to keep the easy flow of conversation going between the two of them.

  "I like his opinions," Tori said softly, a rare, impish smile turning up one corner of her mouth. "He seems like a really nice guy. And it's obvious that he has a thing for you."

  Erica secured the tip of the braid with an elastic band intrigued by the woman's remark. "You think so?"

  She nodded. "We all do." She nodded toward the other women in the shelter around them. "Me and the other girls can't wait to hear you and Ian on the radio He's just so … well…"

  "Sexy?" A blush stained Tori's pale cheeks at Erica's accurate guess and she laughed. "The man does have a to-die-for voice, but it's just a show, and my debates with Ian are pure entertainment."

  But even she had to admit that at times it felt like so much more than simple, playful fun. Amusing diversion or not, the man stoked a fire deep inside of her and evoked a wellspring of need she had a hard time putting aside after her show ended and she headed home in the early morning hours … alone.

  "Your conversations with Ian are different from those with your ether callers," Tori said as she stood, her expression thoughtful. "It's like the two of you are dating on the air."

  "That's certainly an interesting concept." Erica grinned as they headed into an adjoining room furnished with a few used couches, chairs and a big-screen TV that accommodated the women and kids that stayed at the shelter. Catching sight of Janet working on a puzzle in the kid's corner, Erica waggled her fingers at the little girl and received a smile and enthusiastic wave in return.

  Tori cast Erica a sidelong glance brimming with curiosity. "Do you ever wonder what Ian looks like, and if he's really such a nice guy in person?"

  Erica had to be honest. "Yeah, I've wondered, but it's safer this way, you know?"

  Tori's eyes widened. "Do you think he's a stalker?"

  "Oh, no. Not at all," she quickly reassured Tori with a shake of her head.

  Erica instinctively knew that Ian's brand of flirtation was harmless – the only danger he posed was to her sorely deprived libido and her overactive senses. She believed his interest was just as genuine as hers, but he'd never crossed any professional boundaries that would put her on the defensive or make her worry about his intentions.

  "I just meant that Ian's a nice fantasy," Erica clarified. "For me and hundreds of other women who find his voice and on-the-air personality so mesmerizing." She sent the other woman a secret wink. "And there's nothing wrong with fantasies. There's no risk involved, and no expectation from either party, so it's safe to let your imagination sweep you away."

  Tori tipped her head, her fingers playing over the end of the braid that fell over her shoulder. "So you don't mind sharing him with thousands of listeners?"

  "He's not really mine," Erica said, taking her purse from one of the high cupboards in the living room. "And let's face it, the guy might have a voice that could seduce a nun, but he's probably a couch potato with a beer belly and receding hairline."

  Tori laughed, the sound a little hoarse from disuse. "Not in my fantasy, he doesn't."

  "Exactly." Not that a man's looks mattered to Erica, but reality just couldn't be as good as the mental image she and every female listener had no doubt conjured of Ian. "In our minds, he can be whatever we want him to be. Personally, I'm thinking Tom Cruise." She grinned.

  The other woman's eyes sparkled, and she whispered. "Russell Crowe for me."

  "Yum," Erica agreed, glad to see a shift in Tori since she'd arrived at the shelter a few hours ago. The other woman's eyes were brighter now, her complexion not nearly as pale as it had been earlier. Her straightened posture replaced the stooped shoulders and the sense of dejection that had cloaked her. The changes were slight but enough to make Erica feel as though her visit today had served a purpose.

  "Do you have to leave so soon?" Tori asked, a thread of disappointment in her voice.

  She checked her watch and sent Tori a regretful look. "I'm afraid so. I got a call from my station manager this morning to attend a mandatory meeting at 3:00 p.m. sharp, and I'm already pushing it timewise." Dan hadn't been forthcoming with details of the staff meeting on the phone, but the urgency in his voice led Erica to believe it was very important. "I'll be back this weekend."

  "Okay," Tori said softly.

  Erica was hoping the other woman would have said, "I'll be here," but the words didn't come. Erica wasn't completely surprised, suspecting Tori would return to her husband out of a sense of obligation and fear, and the vicious cycle would start all over again.

  Erica's heart twisted at the disturbing thought, but she knew there was little she could do to sway the other woman's decision if she was intent on leaving the protection of the shelter. Erica could only hope that the resident counselors were able to convince Tori that she had the internal strength to make it on her own. She deserved so much better than a man who took his temper out on her.

  And just in case Erica didn't see Tori that weekend, she pulled her into a gentle hug and said, "Take care of yourself, and Janet, too."

  "I will," Tori promised, clinging to Erica for a few extra seconds.

  Erica said a quick goodbye to the other women, the counselors and the children, then headed out into the sweltering afternoon heat and humidity. Sliding behind the wheel of her compact car that had driven her and her small bundle of belongings to Chicago three years ago and was still going strong, she drove the short distance to the station. Once there, she entered the run-down building and jogged up the five flights of stairs for her daily bit of exercise and gabbed a diet soda and bag of chips from the vending machine. Breathless, overheated, her skin damp with perspiration, she burst into Dan's small office with thirty seconds to spare.

  "Leave it to you to make a graceful entrance," Dan, the station's manager, drawled from where he sat behind his small metal desk.

  She waved a hello to the rest of the crew who worked various shifts at the station and flashed a grin at her boss. "I've heard that you spank your tardy employees," she teased right back. "And I don't think that Carly would appreciate sharing that punishment with the rest of us."

  "Thank God I made it in time," Ray, the early-evening disc jockey said meaningfully, which coaxed a round of amused chuckles from WTLK's other radio personalities. They all knew Dan and Carly were dating, and ribald jokes and antics were common between the friendly and outgoing twenty-and thirty-somethings that worked at the station.

  "Very funny, guys," Dan replied with a very bosslike frown, though his tone was good-natured and he took their ribbing in stride.

  Erica sat down on a foldout chair, sighing as the chill from the metal seat seeped through the thin rayon material of her short sundress and offered a modicum of relief. True to form, the air-conditioning had seized up again. The bank of windows across one wall were wide open, and a fan swiveled back and forth from a filing cabinet in the corner stirring the warm air and offering whatever respite it could. It wasn't much with all the extra bodies in the room.

  Setting her can of soda on the corner of Dan's desk, Erica ripped open her bag of chips and glanced around the room, noting the absence of Mike and Tim, WTLK's afternoon duo who were currently on the air, and one other person. "What do you know, we're missing … Carly."

  As if on cue, the station's producer-program director arrived, her face flushed from the heat and her chin-length bob tumbling around her face in silky disarray. "Sorry I'm late. I got stuck in traffic."

  "That's okay," Erica said as she nibbled on a chip, which kept her smirk in plain sight for Carly to see.

  "We've all noted your tardiness, and Dan will deal with you accordingly once the meeting is over."

  "Keep the screams and moans to a minimum so they don't travel over the airwaves," Steve added humorously from the other side of the room.

 
Carly quickly caught on to the gist of their teasing and cast her boyfriend a seductive look. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Dan uses the velvet whip instead of the leather one."

  As soon as Carly settled into the vacant seat next to Erica, Jay – the most pragmatic one of all of them – directed the conversation toward business. "Now that we're all here, what's up, boss?"

  Dan leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on top of his desk. His suddenly grave expression turned the playful atmosphere into a serious discussion. "I received a registered letter this morning from Virginia's attorney. She's selling the station."

  Gasps of surprise, groans of disbelief and outright curses echoed in the room. They'd all known the possibility of Virginia putting the station on the market existed, but the reality still caused tension, distress and even anger from some.

  "What does this mean for us as employees?" Ray asked, his concern evident. He'd just recently gotten married and had a baby on the way.

  Dan sighed, the sound rife with uncertainty. "Honestly, I have no idea. This sale will either make us or break us as a radio station, depending on who buys WTLK and what they plan to do with the program format. We all know we could go from talk radio one day to inspirational the next." His gaze encompassed every one in the room, but there were no reassurances in Dan's eyes. He was stating cold, hard facts without sugarcoating the harsh possibilities. "If no one buys the station and Virginia decides to take it as a loss, then we're all out a job. Hell, we might all be out a job even if she does sell the station and the new owners decide to bring in their own radio personalities."

  Erica rubbed the sudden ache in her temple, hating like hell the thought of starting over yet again when she was just getting a foothold in the industry and getting her name out to Chicago's listening public. But she'd find another DJ job if she had to. If that's what the sale of the station came down to. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she'd started out fresh and new.

  "I do have to say that our ratings are up," Dan continued, putting whatever positive spin on their current predicament that he could. "And those ratings can be used as leverage to entice a buyer to keep the format and programming the way it is. Just as long as the ratings continue to climb and we draw in some big-name advertisers."

  Dan flipped through a stack of papers on his desk and glanced at Erica. "While everyone is doing well in their time slots, your ratings have jumped the highest in the shortest amount of time, Erica."

  She smiled, pleased with that information. "Great."

  A wry grin curved the corners of his mouth. "There's been a definite increase in listeners since your mystery caller, Ian, has become a nightly guest on Heat Waves. There's been a certain buzz around town about your talk show, and I've had advertisers calling wanting your time slot for their commercials, and that's a very good thing."

  Erica's elation dwindled to a small frown. The knowledge that Ian was responsible for her increase in ratings took some of the wind out of her sails. She wanted her show to gain notoriety and popularity, but on her own merit and not because a sexy voice was stirring interest and mesmerizing her listeners. At the same time, she found it difficult to argue success in any form.

  Dan addressed a few more questions and worries, doing his best to keep everyone's panic to a minimum. For now, his main concern was to increase their ratings, and that meant making sure their programs and the issues they chose to talk about were stimulating enough to pique listener interest – and keep them coming back for more.

  The way Erica saw things, this was her opportunity to take things to the extreme and ride on that "buzz" Dan had mentioned earlier to create an even bigger sensation. If for some reason she found herself hitting the pavement for another job, she wanted to use the high ratings on her professional résumé to land something other than a graveyard shift at another station. She wanted, and needed, her name to be a familiar one.

  Finished with the meeting, Dan dismissed the group and everyone shuffled out of his office. Carly hung back, and Erica waited for the room to clear, too, then stood and pitched her empty can and chip bag in the trash next to Dan's desk.

  "Thanks for the heads-up on the station being put on the market," she said to Dan, appreciating the honesty and open rapport he maintained with his employees. "It's something none of us wanted to hear, but at least we know what to expect."

  He nodded in understanding. "With luck, it'll be a smooth, easy transition for all of us with whoever buys the station."

  "If someone buys the station."

  "I'm trying to think positively," he said, absently pushing his fingers through his already mussed dark brown hair. "And we'll do whatever we can on our end to make the station and programming as enticing as possible. The bottom line is ratings. After that, all we can do is sit tight and wait and see what happens."

  Carly perched her hip on the corner of Dan's desk and picked up the clipboard that she'd brought with her to the meeting. She thumbed through the first couple of pages, then glanced at Erica. "By the way, I need a topic heading for tomorrow night's show," Carly said after checking her program outline. "And feel free to spice it up." She waggled her brows.

  "How do you feel about orgasms on the air?" Erica asked, tossing out one of the ideas she had in mind. An idea that would no doubt be an interesting and sizzling discussion between her and Ian and generate listener reaction.

  Carly grinned. "As long as it isn't your own orgasm on the air so we don't get slapped with an FCC fine, then I say go for it."

  "Orgasms it is." Erica slipped the thin strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. "You coming, Carly? I'll walk with you downstairs."

  Curly shook her head. "Dan and I still have the issue of me being tardy to discuss, and it might take a while." Sauntering over to the windows that overlooked the rest of the station, she closed the miniblinds so no one could look into the office. "But I will see you tonight."

  Erica caught her friend's drift real quick and grinned. "Hmm. Have fun, you two." She closed the door after exiting.

  As for her, she had tomorrow night's program to outline for Heat Waves. And that meant browsing through the sexual manuals and books on intimate issues she had at home that gave her the verbal ammunition to back up her chosen topics and sensual discussions on-air.

  She might not have street experience when it came to her more provocative subjects, but she was definitely book smart about sexual issues.

  And that's all she needed to tantalize her listeners.

  *

  "GOOD EVENING, CHICAGO. This is Erica McCree and you're listening to WTLK. With this heat we've been experiencing lately, can you imagine how residents felt during the Great Chicago Fire back in 1871? I'm burning up, how about you?" She released a long, slow breath that traveled over the airwaves like a sultry breeze. "Be sure to stick around for tonight's show, because I'm betting things are going to get a whole lot hotter."

  At the sound of Erica's opening intro to her show, Ian stopped from grabbing the file folder with the contract he needed to review before attending a morning meeting, immediately transfixed by the woman who'd occupied his thoughts for the better part of the evening. He didn't realize until that very moment that her familiar, feathery voice was exactly what he'd needed to hear after spending the past two and a half hours fending off the not-so-subtle advances of a female client who'd insisted on talking about her portfolio over dinner.

  Jill Grayson's request wasn't an unusual one, and hooking up with her in the evening suited his own busy schedule just fine. He'd accepted her invitation thinking about the stocks, bonds and IRAs that he'd invested in with her recent divorce settlement. However, it hadn't taken him long to realize that she was more interested in getting lucky with him than hearing about the status of her investment accounts.

  Ian shook his head in disbelief. While he'd been discussing the decline in her high-risk stocks over appetizers, she'd been rubbing her bare foot up his pant leg and making an "mmm-mmm good" production o
f appreciating her oysters in the half shell. During dinner she'd insisted that he taste the different selections on her plate and fed him with her fork. She'd then slipped the utensil in her own mouth and licked her lips for good measure. After dessert and coffee, when he'd shown her a projected growth chart for her investments, she'd leaned close in the pretense of getting a better look, pressed her hand on his upper thigh and squeezed affectionately, then let her fingers brush the fly of his slacks. When his body didn't so much as stir from the intimate caress, he'd gently removed her hand from under the table before she grew more brazen.

  All the signals for a night of no-strings-attached sex had been evident. But none of Jill's antics, not even her blatant "why don't we finish this at my place" come-on could entice the enthusiasm Ian needed to follow through on a night of slaking her apparent lust. There was a time when he might have taken her up on her casual, one-night-stand offer and indulged in a mindless, unemotional release himself, but he'd taken one glance at his watch, noted the time of 9:30 p.m., and knew he had a hotter date waiting for him – one he refused to miss. Not even for uncomplicated sex, which suddenly held little appeal to him.

  Much to Jill's disappointment he'd turned down her overture and called it a night, claiming work as an excuse. It was a half-truth, though she clearly didn't believe him. He did have a contract to review for a morning meeting, which had brought him back to his office to pick up the paperwork. Knowing he'd never make it back to his penthouse in time for Erica's show, he'd turned on the stereo on his credenza and decided to mix business with pleasure. He'd review the contract during commercials, and enjoy Erica when she was on the air.

  "Last night we talked about what men find sexy about women, she said, recounting the details of her previous show. "What catches his interest, what turns him on, and what ultimately keeps him coming back for more. Tonight I thought we'd continue on that same topic, but take it one step further than the initial spark that usually leads to asking a woman out on a date."