Rock my world - By Cindi Myers Page 0,26
hold of her hand and flashed a toothy grin. “Is that Therapedic 9000 comfortable enough for you?”
“Oh, yes, it’s great,” she said. “I wish I had one at home.”
“I’m sure we could arrange a substantial discount for you.” Max’s grin widened, revealing pointed canine teeth.
Adam didn’t want to think about what the lecher might want in exchange for a discount. He took Erica’s other hand and pulled her toward the bed. “Sorry to break this up, but we need to get to work.”
“Max in person isn’t nearly as in your face as he is on the air,” she said as she crawled into bed after him.
Adam’s head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. “You didn’t notice him ogling you? He was practically panting.”
“Ogling me?” She laughed. “Adam, he’s old enough to be my father.”
“Since when does that stop a man?”
She reached back to fluff the pillow behind her. “You’re imagining things. He’s way more interested in selling mattresses than in me.”
“You’re kidding yourself if you think any man in this room is interested in anything besides you in that outfit.”
“You think so?” Her smile hit him right between the eyes, dazing him. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He hadn’t said it to be sweet. In fact, he was in a particularly sour mood at the moment, and he hated it. One night with Erica and he was behaving like a spoiled child whose toy had been admired by someone else. Erica wasn’t a toy, and he had no claim on her. So why was he acting this way? He wasn’t a man prone to jealousy. In fact, in the past various girlfriends had accused him of being too indifferent.
He picked up the clipboard from the bedside table and adjusted his mic as the producer gave the signal to start. “Good morning, and welcome to day three of our bed-in at Mattress Max’s Furniture showroom, here at Wadsworth and East Six. If you’ve been hiding under a rock all weekend, or sleeping off that wild party, my partner in crime here, the lovely Erica and I, have been in this king-size bed on the showroom floor since Friday morning.”
“We’re raising money for the Salvation Army’s new homeless shelter in Arvada,” Erica continued. “So far we’ve reached twelve thousand, eight hundred and six dollars. But we’re greedy. We want more. Yeah, it’s Sunday. It’s raining. But so what? We’re here, and we want you here, too. The more the merrier.”
“Sounds a little kinky to me.” The remark earned him another smile. “But hey, come on down. Bring by your donations and visit with all of us.”
“Bombshell Bonnie will be dropping by in a few minutes with weather and traffic updates.” Erica read from the clipboard.
“And we have a very special guest on the show this morning,” Adam said. “Naughty Nick himself will be calling in to let us know how his recovery is going.”
He cued up the music. The first chords of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s “Flooding Down in Texas” filled his ears.
He pulled off the headphones and checked his watch. “Have you seen Bonnie?” he asked Erica. “She’s up next.”
Erica shook her head. “Maybe she’s caught in traffic. I didn’t know Nick was calling in. He must be doing much better.”
“I hope he’s not too strung-out on drugs. We don’t have a thirty-second delay here like we do in the studio. No telling what he’ll say.”
“Let me through, people, I’ve got a show to do.”
The crowd parted to reveal Bonnie, rain dripping from her white vinyl slicker and matching boots. Her boyfriend-du-jour, a muscular blond Adam vaguely remembered was named Doug, trailed in her wake.
“Where’s my microphone?” she asked as she approached the bed. “Would somebody get me a cup of coffee? Man, it’s a bitch out there.”
Doug helped her off with her slicker while an assistant brought a cup of coffee and another handed her a headset. She arranged the headset, sipped her coffee, then turned to the bed. “My, don’t you two look cozy.” The smile she gave them was anything but sweet. Adam bit back a caustic remark.
“Hi, Bonnie,” Erica said.
Bonnie ignored the greeting and gave Adam a cool look. “Let’s get this over with.”
The song ended and he realized he’d missed his cue. But Erica picked up the slack. “Bombshell Bonnie is here with weather and traffic. What’s it like out there this morning, Bonnie?”
“Weather and traffic are all f-fouled up out there.” She turned her back on the bed, playing to her audience