Just Another Silly Love Song - Rich Amooi Page 0,7
who truly gets you and will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
“I honestly don’t know if he’s out there now, Lori. I don’t have the best of luck with men.”
“The man of your dreams is out there, all right. Be patient. Keep your chin up, your mind open, your thoughts positive, and your hopes alive. It’ll happen, and most likely when you least expect it.”
“Thank you, Lori.”
“My pleasure, and I’ve got the perfect song for you. You’re listening to Love Songs and Dedications with Lori.”
I started “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer, turned off the microphone, and slid my headphones off my head, setting them on the counter.
By habit I reached for my mocha to my right, forgetting that I had spilled it earlier.
I shook my head in frustration.
And after all I went through just to get that drink in the first place, I wasn’t sure how I would make it through the rest of the night without it.
After going through a couple of listener emails, I glanced up at the computer screen to see the callers Tessa had prescreened for me. There were four on hold earlier, but now there was only one. It was odd, but sometimes we had problems with the phones, and that was out of my control.
Even more odd was that his name was Zachary, the same as my boyfriend’s.
It couldn’t have been my Zachary, because he never called the radio station.
Not even once.
In fact, he didn’t even listen to my show, which maybe wasn’t a surprise since my listeners were ninety-nine percent women. Still, I admit it bugged me a little that Zachary didn’t seem to care enough about what I did to even listen to my show occasionally.
Tessa normally added a sentence about what the person was calling about next to their name and even a suggested song to dedicate based on the reason of their call, but the note section was left blank.
Weird.
I glanced up at Tessa, but she was talking on the phone in her studio, most likely screening another caller for me. I waved to try to get her attention, to try to find out something about the caller, but she was oblivious.
It was nothing to worry about.
We were definitely having technical glitches, but the show must go on.
Tessa was the best at screening my phone calls and weeding out the weirdos. And she had never stuck a caller on hold if they weren’t going on the air.
The Andy Grammer song was close to ending as I slid the headphones back over my head and turned on the microphone. “You’re listening to Love Songs and Dedications with Lori. It’s time for another call.” I pressed the phone button to put the caller on the air. “Hi, Zachary, how are you doing on this beautiful evening?”
“I got the job!”
I froze, staring at his name on my computer screen.
It was my boyfriend.
I was happy that he got a job since he had been searching for a new one for over six months. In fact, I had been helping him find one and got him an interview at two of the top companies on his wish list. Still, I couldn’t believe he’d called me on the radio to tell me this.
“Did you hear me, Lori?”
“Yeah. It’s just that you’re live on the—”
“I’m going to be working for Qualcomm!”
“What happened to Rolando Tech?”
“I told them to take a hike. They’re a bunch of cheap bastards over there and wanted me to work for peanuts.”
“Zachary, you’re on the—”
“The job I got is much better and pays more. Of course, the bad part is I’m going to be very busy, which means . . . you know, I need to focus on what’s important. Our relationship is not a priority. Well, it never was, actually.”
I blinked. “Are you saying that we—?”
“It's over, Lori.”
I jerked my head back.
Zachary was breaking up with me on the radio.
My heart rate began to pick up speed.
My face was suddenly burning up.
I couldn’t move or say a word, paralyzed by what had just happened.
Finally able to blink, I glanced at Tessa in Studio B. She was no longer on her phone and was staring right back at me through the glass, her mouth hung open.
She held her palms up, probably wondering if I was going to do anything or just sit there, because I had what the broadcasting industry called “dead air.” That meant nothing was happening on the radio station.