A New York Minute

by Ember Leigh

  Bridgette cleared her throat and re-crossed her legs. One hand draped idly over the armrest of her chair, eyes burning a hole into his head.

  “Why don’t you talk to me anymore, Joshi?”

  He let his head fall into his hands. “This is a work relationship. Whether or not I get personal with you is neither here nor there. Working together does not mean best friends.”

  Her mouth formed a thin pink line. “But we used to be so close.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before the New Yorker, you mean.”

  He let her words sink into him. Did she have a point? He wasn’t sure when he had decided Bridgette was history. Paige entering his life had changed the channel for sure, but even before she’d come around, he’d known somewhere deep inside that Bridgette was history.

  “She has a name. You know how I am.” He was careful to keep his voice level and calm. “I am a business man. I’m dedicated to my career, and I will do what it takes to get my job done.”

  “What are you saying, then?”

  “I’m saying whatever intimacy we had before was just that. No strings attached. I’m sorry if you were led to believe something else.”

  A silence settled in the room even heavier than the last. Bridgette studied the floor, frowning. “I don’t know what she has that I don’t.” She sounded more vulnerable than he’d ever heard. Her lip quivered and he paused, trying to gauge how to handle the situation.

  “It’s not about what she has or you don’t have or any of that.” He ran a hand through his hair, willing the phone to ring so they could move on to the conference call and leave this conversation far behind them, like an awkward dinner that everyone pretended had never happened. “There’s just a connection there. This stuff defies logic sometimes. That’s all I can say.”

  “I’m prettier than she is,” Bridgette continued. “I’m thinner, I’m taller, I have more money, I’m more fun, my family is well-known and powerful…” Confusion etched itself across her face. “What more could you possibly want?”

  She had a point, one that had Josh reeling. Bridgette was the girl of his dreams five years ago, the perfect answer to his ideal resume of Woman. But that connection, the way Paige made his insides rumble with both glee and desperation, was something that had only happened once in his life, when he was far younger and far less equipped to recognize the value of such a gut rumble. That was the thing you couldn’t talk yourself into no matter how good something looked on paper, a fact he had tried to ignore navigating the single scene in Hollywood.

  Was it any wonder Paige felt like a breath of fresh air? She ignited him in a way that defied articulation, in a way that to his very own ears sounded like wild-eyed stupidity. Her very essence begged him to learn more.

  “I hear you,” he said, face growing warm as he struggled to pick the right words. “Believe me. You are sexy, we’ve had our fun together, and your family has given me opportunities that I can never repay them for…”

  “Well, if you were with me, they would consider it repayment enough.”

  Josh clamped his mouth shut, a slick fear coating his stomach. She watched him with lifted brows, as though the solution were simple enough.

  “Bridgette, that’s not how I work. I won’t be with someone unless I chose to be. What you’re suggesting sounds like an arranged business marriage. This isn’t the seventeenth century, you know.

  “You want money,” she said, leaning closer to him, lips curled back as she articulated the word money. “I have plenty of it. That’s all the game is about, anyway.”

  The phone rang. Josh jolted at the noise and scrambled to pick up the receiver. The dry voice of Bridgette’s uncle sparked to life in his ear before he could even say hello. “Josh, we need to get a few things straight about you and Bridgette…”

  ****

  Paige appraised her bald-headed, stocky manager, tummy rolling over the lip of the towel he’d wrapped around his waist and smiled. She loved him for all the ways they were polar opposites, loved him the most of anyone in her professional sphere, and perhaps even her personal sphere.

  “You’re the only one I can count on,” she murmured, lazy with the intense heat of the sauna.

  “These guys are a bunch of kooks.” Gary wiped his hand across his forehead. “I found a guy in Manhattan who will cut us a deal because of a mutual friend. But we can’t talk details until tomorrow morning, so I’m hoping we’ll be out here a week more, max. But he comes recommended—specializes in corporate law.”

  “There’s gotta be a way out of this contract. Josh made it sound so airtight, but I’m willing to bet he’d even help us at this point.”

  “Yeah, well, after the fiasco this morning, keeping anybody chained to this show is bordering on torture,” he said. “I’d call the Human Rights Watch if I were a better man.”

  “You’re not so bad,” Paige said. “I think I’ll keep you around for another year.”

  “Speaking of earning my keep, I’ve found some leads on a co-host spot opening up in San Fran, provided our contractual exit goes smoothly here. You interested?”

  “What’s the gig like?”

  “Similar to New York Minute, but a lot cheesier. Creative control shared three ways, run by Omega Inc. Salary cut, but hey, it’s a job.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, anxiety blossoming in her belly as she considered what the next step might actually look like. But hey, it’s a job rang hollow to her now.

  A job was nice, but she needed more spotlight, more creative control. At this point in her career, she wasn’t interested in stepping down just to keep the paycheck. IBC had drilled that lesson in for life. “Is there anything else out there right now?”

  “Had a couple inquiries about you since the show was canned,” Gary said. “Some promotional stuff, appearances. There was talk of a book deal, but I shut those guys up right away. The angle was all wrong. They wanted to expose IBC but I told them we don’t deal with slander.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed. “Once I get back to the city, let’s check out some appearances. I wouldn’t mind some promotional stuff for a while.”

  “I might have my thumb on a chance to get you a radio gig, if you’re interested.”

  Her heart sank in her chest as her mind combed through all the possibilities he was presenting. “Radio could work…but you know I want to be in front of the camera.”

  “It’s like a guest spot,” he said. “Something you do a couple times a week, like Lunch Hour with Paige. Well, they won’t call it that, but you get the idea. They pitched it as an upbeat, charismatic hour where you could interview people, take calls, wax poetic about your topic of choice…”

  “Let’s keep that one in mind too,” she said. “I could do with some part-time work while we figure out what’s next. At least to cover the bills.”

  The door swung open and the silhouette of Josh appeared in the doorway. Every inch of her skin lit on fire.

  “Good to see you, Josh,” Gary nodded in his direction. “Happy you could join us.”

  Josh eased into the seat next to her, far too close for casual sauna mates. His arm brushed against hers as he settled and she swore she could feel his heat next to her despite the sweltering sauna.

  “I’m happy I could join too,” he said, not moving his gaze from her. She gulped, both confused and delighted by this outward display of affection. They usually played it more than cool when other eyes were around. Even though it was just Gary, it still felt vaguely titillating and scandalous.

  “Perfect time for an impromptu meeting.”

  “Oh yeah?” Josh lifted a brow. “What’s on deck?”

  “Getting me the eff out of my contract,” Paige said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know why. It’s been fun here, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take the abuse, between the newsroom and Bridgette the Bully.”

  Josh looked away. Her skin prickled at the back of her neck, and she couldn’t figure out his strange mood
, or the reactions he was inspiring within her. The air between them was electrified, made her want to both run away and jump on top of him.

  “I can’t do that, but I know someone who can.” His eyes were full of sadness. “I can connect you with him tomorrow.”

  Paige and Gary shared a glance. He’d support the move, even if it meant structurally weakening his existing show. If he hadn’t supported it, well, Paige would have taken that as the final sign she needed to leave behind this infatuation with Josh. Any man who wouldn’t support upward movement of a career was not a man to be trusted, even if he was the one who originally derailed a career.

  “What are the job prospects like out there?” Josh asked, voice flat. “I mean, for someone like you, what’s the most viable option?” He cracked a smile but Paige could tell it was strained.

  “Radio gigs are hot right now,” Gary said. “I think we’ll get Paige her own show for a while until other things pop up. Besides, with satellite radio, your audience is going to be quadrupled. Don’t even think of it as radio anymore—imagine it as an ocean of auditory possibility.”

  “That was poetic.” Paige grinned. “When you put it like that, how can I say no?”

  Gary leaned back on the bench and crossed his arms over his belly. “This is why I work for you. You see the genius in me.”

  Paige laughed and looked over at Josh, who failed to react to the joke. His gaze suggested he was concentrating on something both a million miles away and in a different plane of existence.

  “Rough evening?” She nudged him with her elbow.

  “You could say that.” His head dropped to his hands and he sighed. “This show is fucked, you know?”

  Paige’s eyes widened. Gary had a similar reaction.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s not long before people lose interest,” he said, massaging his temples with his thumbs. “These days, we’re lucky they even tuned in to see the start of it.”

  Paige couldn’t tell if he was being woe-is-me or if he was privy to a piece of crucial information she and Gary didn’t know. She draped her arm across his shoulder. “Well, if it doesn’t work out, there’s always the next project.”

  He nodded, staring blankly ahead. “You’re right, Paige. But going down with the ship always hurts.”

  She squeezed his shoulder, unsure what to say to him. He turned to them, his smile forced.

  “I hope you find the next big thing, Paige.” The smile faded slightly but his eyes remained locked on her, green razors that both thrilled and slashed at her skin.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry things went down the way they did.” His face was stern but pained. “I really like you guys. I think you’re true professionals. This business is unfair sometimes, but you both already know that.”

  “Is this your resignation speech or something? Are you about to step off the plank here?” Gary laughed but it sounded nervous. The curiosity in the room was palpable.

  “No, no. Just doling out sentiments where they’re due.” He sighed again and let his head fall against the wooden wall of the sauna.

  Something warm appeared at her side. Josh reached for her hand. She took it sheepishly, convinced a game-changer had occurred somewhere between wrap that evening and now. Gary caught her eyes and his mouth was a round O.

  “I really hope you guys don’t hate me,” he said. “No matter what anyone says.”

  Another stunned silence spread across the sauna. Paige cleared her throat. “Well, obviously we don’t hate you.”

  There was a playful light in his eyes. “Really? Paige Alexander doesn’t hate me?”

  She cracked a grin. “I used the word too loosely, I’m sorry. I don’t hate you, and I never have. But I strongly disliked you for a while. That was very real.”

  “I like your honesty.” After a pause, he added, “A lot.”

  Paige got the impression he was talking about now, but also commenting in general. What had gotten into this guy? She squeezed his hand and the three fell into silence. Josh remained sullen and strange at her side while her mind spun wild with questions.

  What surfaced above the confusion, however, was the knowledge that the questions had to end. She was done with being kept in the dark. Josh owed it to her and to himself to come clean and own up to his life. Paige lived in a no-bullshit zone. It was about damn time Josh joined her.

  “Well, kids, I’m gonna call it a night. There’s a nice movie lineup tonight, and I don’t want to miss it.” Gary stood, securing the knot in his towel around his waist before he shuffled toward the door. “Plus it’s so hot in here I think my skin might melt off. I don’t know how you two do this every day. It’s just a couple degrees shy of war torture.”

  Both Paige and Josh said their goodbyes to Gary as he exited the sauna. As soon as the door shut, Paige swiveled to face him. “What the hell is going on with you?”

  He didn’t respond, his green eyes darting all over her face. As she opened her mouth to speak, he pressed his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was deep and hungry, one kiss melting into another, each one more passionate than the last. When they parted, her lungs felt empty and the fire between her legs roared intensely, despite their marathon satisfaction session the day before. Shit. All that sex and she still craved more of him. The one-and-done idea at the beginning wasn’t going to pan out.

  “That doesn’t explain anything,” she said. “In fact, it raises more questions.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like why the hell are you such a great kisser?”

  He laughed, dimples flashing. His gaze stole the air from her lungs, made her want to cover his mouth again and again, as long as humanly possible. But important matters were pending. She grabbed his chin and leveled him.

  “Listen,” she said. “Enough is enough. I’m ready for that exp—”

  The door swung open and Bridgette appeared like an expressionless mannequin in the doorway. Josh’s hand fell from hers and it seemed an icy breeze blew through the sauna despite the incredible heat.

  “Are you ready?” Her eyes were on Josh. Paige had the distinct impression that Bridgette not only didn’t see her, but actively pretended as though she didn’t exist.

  Josh didn’t look back at her as he walked toward the door. When Bridgette was out of sight, just before the door shut, she found her voice.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To finish up some work,” he said. “Then we’ll talk.”

  Paige narrowed her eyes. The games had to stop or else this—whatever it was between them—would shrivel and die completely. They weren’t in high school anymore, nor were they in the CIA—the only viable excuses for such secret-society type behavior in her book.

  The energy associated with being anywhere within eye sight of Bridgette was too much—so much, in fact, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to last even a couple more days here—not even for Josh’s sake.

  She leaned back into her seat, crossed her legs, uncrossed them, shifted under her towel, tapped her fingers on the bench, and then finally groaned. She was unsettled. Firmly unsettled. The relaxing sauna was no longer an option.

  Increasingly, Josh was also not an option. She paced the sauna until deciding that returning to cooler air and clothing might be a better foundation for thinking clearly. Once he was done with whatever secret society, club meeting, she’d hear Josh’s side. She was eager for the full story, and deep inside she was rooting for him, desperate to know what was happening in the background. Once that was all set, she’d wriggle out of her contract and continue toward world domination.

  Perfect. She slipped out of the sauna and the whoosh of cool air in the hallway caused goose pimples to erupt all over her body. She wanted a shower, desperately—to detach and mull and wash off the soil of the conundrum clinging to her like a fine dust since the island had entered whatever strange parallel universe in recent days.

  She changed into her clothes in the locker room
and hitched an elevator upstairs. Knowing her days were finally numbered on the island provided a cocktail of emotions—relieved, of course, that she would soon return to her beloved New York, but also strangely morose, as the end of any phase tended to provoke in her, no matter what it was. Down the road, she could chalk this up to a professional speed bump, but clarity stung her there in the hallway as she transitioned between different eras of her career.

  At her room she fumbled getting the key out of her pocket—dropped it once, then again, cursed, checked to see if anyone was watching and then finally slid the thin card into her door.

  It flashed red three times and groaned disapprovingly.

  She slid it again and the same result faced her. She tried again, tried it upside down, backward, right-side up. It wasn’t a user error. Paige silenced a flip of her stomach that told her something was off and went to the lobby to inform a staff member.

  She walked to the front desk, eyes glued to the receptionist watching her approach. “Excuse me.” She slid the door key to him. “This isn’t working and I’ve only been out of my room for the evening.”

  “Hmm.” He took the key and swiped it in a card reader behind the desk. “It says it’s working fine. What room number are you?”

  “301, Lambert Wing.”

  He typed something into the computer and asked, “And your name?”

  “Paige Alexander.”

  He tapped a few things on the screen. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but you’ve been checked out of that room.” He filed the key, Paige’s heart pounding as her mind swirled with disbelief. “It says you checked out about an hour ago. In fact…” He leaned closer to read something, and as he did his expression grew firm. “I have your things behind the desk for you.”

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” She could hardly decide where to begin with the questions.

  “Your bags.” He pointed behind him to a storage room. “They were dropped off for you to pick up.”

  She paused, brow furrowed and mind screaming. “Okay…I’m really confused here and I apologize. Maybe you had nothing to do with this….but why the hell are my bags down here if I didn’t pack them and I didn’t check out?”