Rock my world - By Cindi Myers Page 0,24
a man who’d been reluctant to get involved with her, he was certainly moving along quickly. Her theory that the thinking man had a more passionate side had proved absolutely true.
BONNIE SAT at the bar in a downtown hotspot, nursing a drink. For a Saturday night, things sure were slow. So it was raining outside. Was that any reason not to get out and have a little fun? God knew she could use a good time, since she was surrounded all day by people who were determined to bring her down.
She tapped her toe to the beat of the latest single by Nelly Furtado, but she lost her groove when the music faded and a commercial came on.
“This is the Hawk.”
“And this is Erica, coming to you from Mattress Max’s showroom at Wadsworth and East Six.”
“We’re headed toward the final day and night of our bed-in to raise money for the Salvation Army’s new homeless shelter. We’ll be open all day Sunday, so stop by and see us and make your donation.”
“We’ve raised over ten thousand dollars so far, but we’d like to raise at least five thousand more in the next twenty hours.”
“So come on by, folks, and help us reach our goal. We’ll—”
“Turn that thing off,” Bonnie snapped at the bartender.
He looked up from stacking glasses. “What?”
“The radio. Turn it off. Or at least change the channel.”
He started to argue, then wisely thought better of messing with the Bombshell, and turned the dial to another station. Country and western music filled the bar. Bonnie made a face, then picked up her drink and moved to a table.
She hoped Adam and Erica were making each other miserable up there in that bed. Thank God she hadn’t gotten saddled with that assignment. Imagine seventy-five hours with that turkey. She should know!
Not that Adam had been a terrible bed partner. He had a great bod, and knew how to use it. But the man was so infuriatingly straight. He never drank more than one drink when they went out. He didn’t smoke and didn’t approve of her smoking. She’d made the mistake of offering him a line of coke once and he’d gone ballistic. The man ought to be a preacher instead of a rock DJ.
He was probably being a perfect gentleman with little Miss Erica. How old was she? Seventeen? Probably older than that, though she looked like a high school cheerleader. She dressed like one, too, in cute little skirts and tight little T-shirts. Like every other teenybopper in the mall.
Bonnie smoothed her own skintight halter dress in place. If you were a radio personality that meant you had to have personality. Pizzazz. Erica had none of that. She didn’t even have a decent handle. Adam had called her “Effervescent Erica.” What kind of a nickname was that? It sounded like a soda pop, or an antacid.
It wasn’t like Bombshell Bonnie. That was a great name that listeners responded to. It said “Fun” and “Hot” and “Wouldn’t you like to know her?”
She snagged a passing waitress and ordered another drink. The fans loved Bonnie. The problem was, Carl had it in for her. He obviously didn’t like strong women. He’d rather give the drive-time slot to someone like Audra, who was fat and pregnant and not the least bit glamorous, than let a star like Bonnie grab the spotlight. Maybe he realized if he let her work the show for even three days, the Hawk would be history. Who wanted “the thinker” when they could have a Bombshell?
If she could find a way to get rid of Adam, Carl would have to give her the show. The trick was to come up with something that would make him look bad, while making herself look good.
It was only a matter of time before she found the right opportunity and seized it. That was one thing a bombshell always had on her side, right? The element of surprise.
6
“ALL THIS RAIN is bad for business.” Carl stood at the showroom window Sunday morning, watching the weather. “Only a crazy person would be out in this mess.”
“Guess that makes us crazy,” Adam said.
Carl turned to him. “You look like hell. What’s the matter? Not sleeping at night?”
“Um, not that great.” He gulped coffee and gazed out the window, memories of last night with Erica spinning through his head. He couldn’t believe he’d had some of the most amazing sex of his life, and they’d used only their hands.
He’d told himself he was absolutely