Authors: Jennifer Cruise
Charlie All Night (13 page)
* * *
As far as Allie was concerned, the weekend just got better after that.They rented videos Saturday
night and stayed home with Joe and his
date, critiquing the mistakes in
The
African Queen
and
Casablanca.
"Bad ending," Allie said when Ingrid Bergman left on the plane.
"A woman's got to do what a woman's got to do," Charlie told her.
"I think she's right," Joe's date, David, said. "
I
wouldn't have left
Humphrey Bogart."
"You're a guy," Charlie said. "Women sacrifice. It's their job in life."
He complained loudly when Allie threw popcorn at him! and then attacked
her that night when they
went to bed,; tickling her until she giggled
helplessly and then making love to her until she lost her
mind. The
next day, they had a picnic; in the park and that night, Charlie
dragged Allie off to see;
Arnold Schwarzenegger's newest exploding-head
picture.
Allie had never been happier in her life. "You are one good'. time,"
she told Charlie.
Charlie grinned at her. "Let's take some Chinese food home to Joe and
David."
But Joe was alone when they got home.
* * *
"Chinese," Charlie called out when they came through the door and thenstopped. Joe was standing
in the middle of the < living room and he
didn't look happy. "What's wrong?" Allie said.
"David and I were spending a nice quiet evening at home," Joe said,
"when somebody knocked on the door."
Charlie put the take-out bag down on the coffee table. "What happened?"
Allie sank down on the sofa across from Joe. "Where's David."
"He went home. Things got weird." Joe looked at Charlie. 'Did you annoy
anyone lately?"
"Just about everybody." Charlie sat down on the arm of the couch. "I'm
not going to like this story,
am I?"
Joe shook his head. "When I opened the door, this blonde was standing
there, and she shrieked,
"Charlie!' and flung her arms around me."
At least nobody had tried to gun Joe down. There were worse things than
being hugged by a blonde. Charlie grinned at Allie. "Happens to me all
the time."
"Then she dropped her coat," Joe said. "She was naked."
Charlie stopped grinning. "That doesn't happen nearly as often.
"Then she grabbed me again and somebody took a picture. With a flash."
"That never happens to me." Charlie frowned at him. What the hell?"
"I don't know," Joe said. "But it's not good."
Charlie glanced at Allie. She was glaring at him. "What?" he asked her.
"Is there something you're not telling me?" Allie said.
"Something blond? No." Charlie looked at her with disgust. The last
thing he needed was Allie getting jealous while he tried to figure out
this newest wrinkle. "Come on, I spend svery waking moment with you.
Every sleeping moment, too, for that matter. When would I be dating
blondes?"
"Well, something's going on with you," Allie said, getting up. "And I
don't like it." She went in her
room and shut the
door.
Charlie looked at Joe. "Is this my fault?"
"I don't think so." Joe said. "But if it is, knock it off. "you're
screwing
up my social life."
* * *
The picture of Joe and the hooker was on the front page of Monday'sTuttle Tribune.
"I can't believe they printed that." Allie said as she stared at it
over breakfast, trying to figure the public-relations angles . "Local
DJ Patronizes Call Girl? How much of the paper does the mayor own?"
"God, I look like hell." Joe said over her shoulder. "In fact, I almost
look like Charlie."
''Very funny." Charlie came into the kitchen and took the paper away
from them to read the caption. "This is weird. They're setting
themselves up for a lawsuit here. Somebody with clout must have got
this in. Who have we annoyed that has
clout?"
"Well, the mayor owns a chunk of the paper, and there's Roger Preston
and all his friends." Joe took
the paper back. "Good thing I warned
David about this. He's not the jealous type, but this looks bad."
"Actually," Allie said, trying to look on the bright side. "It might
help the ratings. It should definitely
get us some callers."
"Great," Charlie said. "The Moral Majority calling in to tell me I'm
the spawn of Satan. Yeah, I'm
looking forward to that."
Allie tried not to laugh. It would be great talk radio if they did.
"Forget the Moral Majority," Joe said. "How about Bill?" The phone
rang, and he got up to answer it. "Even as I speak. Do you want to talk
to him?"
"No." Allie stood up and carried her plate to the sink. "We're already
on the carpet for the 2 Live Crew mess. Tell him we'll see him this
afternoon." She smiled at Charlie to reassure him. "It's all right.
Bill's going to know that's Joe, not you, and that it has to be a
setup. Really. It's all right."
Allie wasn't as sure later that afternoon.
Bill sat in his desk chair and swiveled back and forth, glaring at both
of them. "I don't know what it is with you two," he began on a
deceptively quiet note. "I don't know whether you're dumb or crazy or
out to get me or what." He glared at Charlie. "I'm particularly glad I
hired you, you dumb-ass."
Allie winced at the injustice. "Wait a minute. The Friday broadcast was
all my fault. I know the rule is never to say anything in the booth
that can't be broadcast. I broke it. It's my fault."
Charlie sighed. "No, it isn't. It's mine. I was the one who sat on the
mike slide and moved it up so everyone heard us. She had every right to
assume we were off the air. It was my fault."
Allie shook her head, trying to warn him off. Her job was safe but his
might be in jeopardy. "I'm the producer. I should have checked. It was
my fault..."
"No, it wasn't..."
"When you two are finished," Bill said, "I'd like to say a few words."
They both shut up.
"We logged a lot of calls Friday night." He stood up and began to pace.
Allie found herself moving her head back and forth with him. "Even more
calls over the weekend. A lot more than we ever have
before. And now
there's this mess with the hooker." He wheeled around suddenly and put
his hands
on the desk, looming over them. "The press would like to talk to
you both."
Charlie shifted in his seat. "About the hooker—"
"I know about the hooker," Bill said. "Somebody's out to get you, son,
but it's hard to tell who since you've pissed off so many people." He
glared at Charlie. "Had to make waves, didn't you?"
"I don't think that was what I had in mind," Charlie began and Bill cut
him off.
"You don't think at all, son. That's why we're in this mess. Just look
at you on Friday. Playing songs about raping women." He snorted.
"Making fun of Barry Manilow."
Charlie looked at Allie, and she closed her eyes in defeat. Bill was on
her side. She must be wrong.
"And you," Bill said to her. "You and your women's movements. I've told
you to keep that stuff off
the air. The only good thing this fool said
Friday night was when he made fun of you for that. And
even that was
dirty." He glared at Charlie again.
"Oh, hell, Bill." Charlie leaned back in his chair. "Fire us and get it
over with."
Allie felt her heart rise in her throat but then Bill saved her.
"I'm not gonna fire you." He slapped the desk. "I need you. And
besides, you're starting to make me money. Albert raised the ad rate on
your show and it's still sold out. Damn it."
"You can fire me," Allie offered, not too worried he'd take her up on
it. "Nobody knows I exist."
"The hell they don't." Bill glared at her, too. "You're famous now. I
told you,
the press
wants to
talk
to you. Some fool woman wants to do a
human-interest
story on you
two."
"Well, we don't want to talk to her." Allie stood up. "I'm not talking
to anybody ever again."
"Sit down," Bill said and she sat down. "You're gonna have to go on
again tonight."
"No," Allie and Charlie said together.
"And you're gonna talk nice to each other, and answer questions nice
for the rest of the week, and
then when everybody's really bored, you,
Charlie, are gonna go back to being a solo DJ and you,
Alice, are gonna
go back to being a producer, and that's gonna be the end of it.
Understand? Find something boring to talk about that you both agree on
and talk about it for a week. There must be something that you both
agree on."
Sex,
Allie thought, but she
kept her mouth shut. She looked over at
Charlie who was fighting back
a grin. He was turning into one heUadous
one-night stand.
"Either of you got anything else to say?"
"No, sir," Allie said, and then she and Charlie escaped into the hall
before he could start again.
"I think Bill has slipped around the bend
this time," she said when they were out of sarshot.
"Well, he owns the bend," Charlie said. "Let's make this thing short
and sweet. Think of something
we talk about."
"The show," Allie said. "Chinese food. Sex."
"I don't think any of those are going to make a program," Charlie said.
"What else do we talk about?"
Allie stopped, struck by the thought. "That's pretty much it. We don't
talk much." She looked at him, appalled. "We don't really talk at all."
Charlie ignored her. "Maybe we can talk about music. You don't know
anything about music, but I
could talk about it, and you could say,
'Gee, Charlie, you're wonderful.' I like it." He looked at her
without
seeing her. "But this time, I'm double-checking the tapes. We're going
to have music or I'm
going to know why."
Allie left him in the tape library, carefully checking his tapes for
the
night. He might not want to be
a star, but Charlie sure didn't want dead air, either. Whether he
realized it or not,
Charlie was getting sucked into radio.
And whether she'd realized it before or not, she was getting sucked
into Charlie. She should have
been delighted that all they talked about
was the show and sex. That's what she wanted. A nice, uncomplicated,
unemotional affair. Except that wasn't enough anymore. She'd gotten
exactly what
she'd asked for, and it wasn't enough, and she wasn't
going to be able to get more because he didn't
want more: he was
leaving in November.
There it was, the thought she'd been ignoring all week. November. He
was leaving in November. And
no matter how hopeful she was, she knew
how stubborn he was. Come November, unless she did something amazing,
she was going to be left with an empty broadcast booth and an empty bed.
She wasn't sure she didn't have an empty bed already. If all they were
was great sex, it was definitely
an empty bed.
She tried to push the whole thing from her mind and went to get coffee.
Her thoughts were depressing, and they got worse when Mark followed her
into the break room.
"Allie!" The delight in his voice was mirrored on his face. He must
want something, she told herself.
He was never that happy to see
anybody unless they could do something for him.
She steeled herself for the come-on. "What do you want?"
Mark spread his hands out, the picture of innocence. "I just wanted to
talk to you."
Allie frowned at him. "Why?"
Mark put his hand on her arm. "I just miss you so much."
"Why? Did Lisa leave you?" She turned away from him and went over to
the coffee urn, trying not
to think about Charlie leaving her.
Mark followed her. "Allie, it's not the same. She's not you."
Allie laughed shortly. "No, she's ten years younger and twenty pounds
lighter. And it's only taken you
two months to notice." Allie turned
back to him, her coffee in hand. "I talked to her Saturday at the
remote. She's looking pretty frazzled, Mark. Cut her a break. She's
still learning the job. Charlie's in
the same spot." She stopped,
realizing that while Charlie might be in the same spot, he was doing
brilliantly. Not a good comparison for Lisa.
Mark moved closer. "Forget about Charlie. Let's go have dinner
somewhere and talk."
Allie ducked around him and headed for the door. "We don't have
anything to talk about."
Mark caught her arm, and she turned to see him with a soulful look on
his face. "Let's have dinner.
A long dinner."
Allie pulled her hand away, trying to compute what she'd just heard.
"What?"
"I think we should see more of each other. A lot more, if you know what
I mean." Mark moved
closer, backing her against the wall. "We were good
together, Allie."
Allie looked at him in amazement. "Are you kidding? We were lousy
together. Are you propositioning me? I can't believe it." She shook her
head. "You're propositioning me. No." She turned and opened
the door
and came face-to-face with Charlie.
"I was looking for you," he said to her. He glared at Mark. "What are
you doing flirting with other
disc jockeys?"
Mark smiled smoothly. "Allie and I go back a long way."
"As long as you stay back, I don't care." Charlie held the door for
Allie. "If you're finished here, we
need to talk about this damn
program."
"Fine," Allie said, annoyed with them both. Mark had dumped her and
Charlie was leaving in
November, but in the meantime they both thought
they owned a part of her. And she knew which
parts, too. Mark wanted her brain to save his show, and
Charlie wanted her butt.
Well, the hell with both of them.
"What difference does the program make?" she said to Charlie, and he
looked so stunned she felt vindicated. "You want to be a flop,
remember?"
She took off down the hall and heard him follow her. "Are you all
right?" he called after her.
"This isn't like you."
"You're making me mad," she said. "You and Mark, both."
He followed her into her office. "Don't put me in the same sentence
with Mark. What did I do?"
"All he thinks about is what I can do for him in radio," Allie said,
slamming her coffee cup down on
her desk and sloshing coffee on her
papers. "And all you care about is what I can do for you in bed.
The
hell with both of you. I don't need you." She sat down and crossed her
arms.
Charlie sat down across from her and watched her warily. "Uh, I don't
know what brought this on,
but I want you for more than sex. We're
friends. You know that. Is Mark trying to get you back for
his show?"
"I have friends," Allie told him. "Joe, and Harry, and Karen, and a lot
more. They don't jump my
body every chance they get."
Charlie's eyebrows rose. "Sorry. I'll stop."
"No, you won't," Allie said gloomily. "That's how you communicate. Men.
The weaker sex. If you
were a woman, you'd have the guts to talk to me,
but since you're a guy you just want sex."
"Well, then say no," Charlie said, the exasperation plain in his voice.
"You always seem pretty
enthusiastic when I suggest it."
"I am enthusiastic," Allie said. "I love going to bed with you. But
that's all we do."
"So what do you want?"
"I want to talk sometimes." She hated sounding wimpy, but there it was.
"You know, really talk."
"Good." Charlie put a stack of disks on her desk. "We'll talk tonight
on the show. You'll love it. Conversation and your career, a
two-for-one deal."
Allie gazed at him for a moment, looking at the monster she'd created.
She wanted to work on their relationship, he wanted to work on her
career. Just what she needed in her already bleak life: irony. "Great,"
she said. "Tell me all about it."
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