“Thanks for your help.” He pushed as much authority to the surface of his drunkenness as possible. “Got it from here.”
She looked longingly around his apartment, no doubt still wanting to be useful, so he stretched his mouth into a wide yawn. She took the hint and cheerfully wished him a good night before bouncing out the door, which he swiftly locked behind her.
He listed into the bedroom, where of course the mattress was bare. Then he located the bathroom, which had no toothbrush, soap, or towels waiting for him. “Goddammit!” he roared, then clapped a hand over this mouth. No need to summon more assistance from next door.
Whatever. Sleep beckoned. He located some folded bedding in a closet and grabbed the comforter, then shucked his clothes and, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs, rolled himself into a blanket burrito on the bare mattress.
He was about to drift off into an uneasy drunken sleep when he remembered what he’d been trying to forget all night. He and Mabel had been in the same room today, and she’d completely ignored him. Unless…
He groped on the floor for his phone, which was still in the pocket of his pants. No notifications. Mabel hadn’t called or texted. And why would she? He knew how furious she was with him.
That didn’t stop him from throwing his phone across the room though.
Nineteen
Thursday after the show, which was full of more announcements about the deejay shake-up and Brick Babe auditions, Mabel walked down the hall to the main office and steeled herself to bargain with That Arrogant Asshole. Acid bubbled in her stomach thanks to all the rage she was swallowing, but the inevitable ulcer would be worth it if she could just stay with Dave.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside. The office was empty. And not just empty, but unusually clean. Jake’s desk was devoid of laptop, paperwork, notes, everything.
“He’s not here.” The voice behind her made her jump, and she spun to find That Arrogant Asshole surveying her from the doorway with a blandly amused expression. “Your righteous indignation drove him away.”
He pushed past her into the office, setting an armload of papers onto Jake’s bare desk. Mabel felt like she’d been caught sneaking the last donut from the box, but she had to know.
“What do you mean? Is he back in Chicago?” Her heart jumped to her throat at the thought that he was gone. He’d been here yesterday. Had she missed the chance to say goodbye by pointedly ignoring him and the devastated look on his face?
Brandon smiled thinly. “Luckily for you, he rented an office downtown.”
Oh hell, why’d she have to be so relieved to hear it? She shouldwanthim safely out of her city. What was wrong with her?
“Good shows this week.” Brandon dropped into his office chair and eyed her speculatively. “Very professional, both of you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes. You may have noticed that we are, in fact, professionals.”
He lifted his hands in a “down, killer” motion. “I’m aware. It’s why I was so surprised about you and Jakehammer. I truly thought you’d both be smart enough not to get… tangled.”
He twined his fingers together to illustrate his point, and her throat threatened to close up. Bad enough that things with Jake ended. Worse to infinity that her boss knew about it. Memories of her dismissal from Gainesville made her hands ball into fists at her sides. “That’s not what—”
He cut her off. “No harm done. You and Dave are both doing exactly what I need you to do. Oh, and speaking of things I need you to do, you guys and Skip will need to knock out some voice tracking this week. Tracy quit this morning.”
“What?” Mabel’s mouth dropped open, all other thoughts vanishing. Surly, spiky Tracy had up and left? “Why?”
“You, I think,” Brandon said. “She was anticipating a promotion to the afternoon-drive slot, and I had to tell her she wasn’t ready. So she’s gone on to greener pastures.”
Oh, Tracy.Here’s hoping the younger woman had something else already lined up; radio was a rough market these days, what with corporate consolidation and competition from podcasts and streaming services. If you were lucky enough to have an on-air job, impulsively quitting wasn’t smart.
She spoke slowly as an idea percolated. “I’d happily stay on mornings and give her the afternoon slot if that would bring her back.”
But That Arrogant Asshole picked up on the hesitancy in her words and smiled his snaky smile. “No. You think Tracy on afternoons is as bad an idea as I do.” He pursed his lips as he studied her. “You don’t want the slot, but you know Tracy’s too edgy for the corn-fed commuters who just want to make it home in time to eat a casserole, watch the local news, help their spawn with homework, and drop into bed so they can do it all over again tomorrow.”
He raised his eyebrows but kept his expression impassive as she rocked back on her heels, equal parts disgusted and impressed. Because he was right; Tracy wasn’t a good fit for afternoon drive. But why whywhydid he have to be so awful about it?
“Is there anyone you don’t feel superior to?” she finally asked.
“None that I’ve found yet.” He straightened one snowy shirt cuff. “By the way, lover boy’s a CPA.”
Holy non sequitur, Batman. “Yes. And?”
“Well, you should be aware that CPAs are legally obligated to keep any information about their accounts confidential. If my company’s accountant had told you any details about my plans, he could’ve been fired, could’ve lost his license. We could’ve sued his company even.”
