Charlie All Night

“Bill’s ability to ignore anything unpleasant is legendary,” Joe told him.

“Great.” Charlie drank more of his iced tea. If Bill could ignore somebody shooting up a broadcasting booth, the one anonymous letter that had made him call for help must have been a beauty. He brought his attention back to Joe. “What else should I know?”

They talked on into the night, Joe and Allie filling him in on the rest of the station personnel, like Albert the anal-retentive business manager who recited ad prices in his sleep, and Marcia the ambitious afternoon DJ who was breathing down Mark’s neck for the prime-time slot, and Karen the receptionist who knew all the gossip not fit to print, and Harry the Howler who was on right before Charlie.

“Harry howls from six to ten,” Allie told Charlie. “He likes to think he’s wild and crazy, but he’s really sweet with the volume turned up. His real area of expertise is cars, so if you ever have problems with yours, ask Harry.”

“And then there’s me.”

Allie nodded. “Yep. Harry’s audience usually starts to fade about nine, nine-thirty, and then we had Weird Waldo.”

Charlie tried not to show his relief. “So, at the moment, my show has a listening audience of about…”

Allie grinned at him. “Oh, six or seven, tops. And they’re all listening because they’re concerned about the Martians, and they’re waiting for the update.”

Charlie started to laugh. “Oh, God. This is going to be awful.”

“Then at two o’clock, there’s Grady.”

“Tell me Grady’s normal.”

“Well…” Allie stopped, obviously searching for the words to describe Grady. “Grady is sweet. He talks about things like the life force and crystal power and personal auras, and then he plays classical guitar music and Gregorian chants and other…” She stopped. “I can’t describe Grady. His show is very soothing, and he has his own small but fanatically loyal following.” She shrugged. “I like him. Grady’s a good person.”

“If he has only a small following, why is he still on the air?”

“Because he’s Grady Bonner. Someday, all this will be his.”

“The son and heir? Then why is he on the graveyard shift?”

“Because his following is small. Bill gave Grady two to six to keep him off the streets.”

Charlie took a deep breath. “So I’m sandwiched in between Howling Harry and Grady ‘I Have Lived In Other Times’ Bonner?”

“That’s about it.”

It couldn’t be better. No one would ever hear him. He started to grin. “I’m in big trouble.”

“No, you’re not.” Allie leaned forward. “From ten to two, you have a lot of freedom. This is so all the really knee-jerk conservatives go to bed early so they can get up with the chickens, which means your audience, once you build one, will be open to new things. As long as you don’t do anything that upsets Bill, you can say anything you want. We can do this, Charlie. We—”

“No, we can’t.” Charlie hated to ruin her plans, she looked so cute trying to sell them to him, but he was not going to be a success. “I don’t want to be famous. I just want a nice little radio show for a few weeks. That’s all.”

Allie shoved her glasses back up her nose. “But, Charlie—”

“No,” Charlie said firmly.

Joe stood up. “I’d love to stay and watch this, but I have to go to work in the morning. Good night, all.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and Charlie leaned back on the couch.

“I think we should talk about this,” Allie said.

“I don’t,” Charlie said, but Allie did anyway, explaining all the good things that would come his way if he just put himself in her hands.

She was a good persuader, and under any other circumstances he might have listened just because she talked such a good fight, but he was only temporary. He wasn’t staying. He wasn’t going to be a success.

He wouldn’t mind being in her hands, though.

He jerked his mind away from the thought when Joe came out of the bathroom in his robe.

“Bathroom’s all yours. Good night.” Joe looked at Allie and shook his head, and then he went into his bedroom and closed the door.

Charlie frowned at Allie. She’d abandoned her argument about his career and was now looking at him as if she was sizing him up. He had the damnedest feeling she was going to try a new attack. It wasn’t a reassuring feeling. “Why did Joe shake his head?”

“What?” Allie stood up and moved to stand beside him, smiling brightly. “Never mind. My bedroom, as you know, is on the left. Want to see it again?”

“Come here, McGuffey.” He pulled her down beside him, trapping her hand in his. “What are you up to? Tell me everything, now. I can take it.”

“I was going to tell you, anyway.” She sat stiff and straight. “I just wanted to be in my nightgown to do it.”

“Your nightgown.” Charlie clamped down on his evil thoughts and patted her hand. “Well, I’m sorry I’m going to miss that. Why your nightgown?”

She sighed. “Joe thinks this is a bad idea.”

“Joe’s no dummy. If he thinks it is, it probably is.”

“I think so, too. Forget it.” She stood up, and he caught her hand.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Just in case you change your mind, I need to be prepared. Are we going to go Vaseline Mark’s car windows? Put Tabasco in Lisa’s diaphragm?”

Allie sat down again next to him. “All right. I have a favor to ask.”

Charlie tried to look encouraging. “Shoot.” Allie looked so uncomfortable, he was ready for anything.

She took a deep breath. “I want you to sleep with me.”

CHARLIE DIDN’T SAY anything, and she stole a glance at him.

He looked stunned.

She should have know it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t the seductress type. She flopped back against the couch, defeated. “I know it’s dumb, but I had this plan. I thought maybe if I slept with somebody else, I’d get over Mark permanently. Sort of like getting right back on the horse after you’ve been thrown.”

Charlie made a sound like a strangled laugh.

“What did you say?”

“I whinnied.”

Allie fought back a smile. “You laughed. Okay, go ahead. I just…” The words were too dumb to say out loud, so she shut up and shrugged instead.