“I just hope he keeps it short. I’ve got a last-minute conference call with the Chicago office in an hour,” he said, checking his watch.
“The drudgery of the upwardly mobile.” She winked.
“It’s the only way to the top, and you know that’s where I wanna be, baby.”
She kissed him again because his work ethic was damn sexy.
“Anyway,” he said when they separated, “between the numbers and Finn’s focus group research, I’ve done all I can.”
“I know,” she purred. “And you’ll be rewarded with displays of my gratitude tonight, whatever happens.”
Dave’s moaning morphed into a retching noise, which she ignored as she tugged Jake’s lapels back into place. “By the way, you really need to start packing, friend-o.”
“I cannot wait to be on a beach with you where I don’t have to spend a second thinking about work,” he said. “I’ve already got my swim trunks and my sunblock laid out. Do I need anything else?”
She stroked a hand down his abdomen, covered in layers of office-wear. “Not on my account. In fact, if you forget to pack any shirts, that’s fine by me.”
The seventy listeners who’d signed up for the station’s Jamaica trip were departing the next morning for the five-day, four-night resort vacation, and Dave, Mabel, and a handful of Brick Babes, including Thea, were going along to mingle with the fans and do periodic broadcasts from paradise. A still-safe-to-fly Ana was also going, but more importantly for Mabel, Jake had managed to swing the time off from BPS, so the two of them were looking forward to their first trip together even if it would be work-adjacent.
“I’ll leave all my shirts at home, I promise.”
Home. Was he thinking of Beaucoeur as home? The thought warmed her as much as the sunny Jamaican beach no doubt would, and she kissed him until she was breathless, flustered, and unconcerned about anything, including the ratings.
That afternoon,Mabel and Dave walked side by side to face Brandon.
“Have a seat.” He smiled his oiliest smile and gestured to the guest chairs in his office. “You’ve reviewed the Nielsen numbers by now?”
They both nodded, and when Dave drew breath to speak, Brandon held up a hand. “Save it. Your morning numbers aren’t where I’d like them to be, and the ad people are having a harder time selling for the show. Even though Thea’s doing relatively well, the feedback we’ve gotten from advertisers is that they miss the old partnership the two of you had.”
Mabel’s heart started to trip in her chest as Brandon looked from her to Dave and back again. Then he shrugged. “I’m not perfect, and I do admit my mistakes. We could let it ride until the next book comes out, but between the ad revenue and lover boy’s focus groups, I see that I was wrong.”
Mabel groped for Dave’s hand and squeezed it. Was this really happening?
“So congrats,” Brandon said, rubbing a hand over his brow. “The week after Jamaica, Mabel, you’re back on the morning show with Dave. No more solo show, no more guest hosts. Full-time Dave and Mae. We’ll find somebody new for afternoon drive.”
Dave let out a shaky breath as Mabel breathed, “For real?”
Brandon nodded. “Numbers don’t lie.”
She gripped the arms of the chair, terrified this was some kind of cruel joke. “Really? Really and truly?”
“Really and truly.” He tapped his pen on the Nielsen book sitting on his desktop. “And Lowell Consolidated’s going to pay for an advertising blitz about our return to morning-show greatness. What do you say, team? Think we can rebuild the show, take it to number one in the market?”
Elation filled her chest, and she scrambled to her feet, whooping. Dave joined her, and they both jumped and hollered like kids while Brandon winced at the noise.
Her joy kept expanding in her chest until she felt like she might burst with it. She had her job back and her best friend grinning like an idiot next to her, and when she got home from work that night, an amazing man would be waiting at her house for her. Could any one person handle this much happiness in life, this much love filling her heart?
She guessed she’d just have to get used to it.
Thirty-Six
That night, Jake sat in Mabel’s kitchen and waited for her to get home. He didn’t have the radio on like usual. No TV, no iPad, no newspaper. Nothing but the cold silence of the empty house and the cold knot in his stomach.
Tybalt scruffed himself against Jake’s ankles before leaping onto the stool next to him, where he tucked himself into a cat loaf and tried to drill a hole into Jake’s forehead with his Sphinx eyes.
“I know, buddy.” He sighed, running a hand down the cat’s back.
They stayed like that until Tybalt’s ears perked up and he hopped off the stool with a grunt to mince toward the front door. A few seconds later, Jake heard Mabel’s steps on the porch. He stood and tried to calm his pounding heart.
