Rock Radio - By Lisa Wainland Page 0,32
believe I haven’t heard from Sam since he left. We lived together. Don’t you think he’d at least call to see how I was doing?”
“Men are pigs.”
She leaned against the opposite side of the console. “You speak from experience?”
“I’ll ignore that remark given your delicate state.” He smiled at her.
Dana returned the grin. “You’re sooo sensitive.”
“The songs almost up Dana, you gotta talk.”
Dana walked around the console and took the headphones from Jonny.
“Good evening...Dana Drew here, back again for four hours of music and mayhem. Let’s kick off this rock block with a little Pearl Jam.” She hit the music and took off the headphones. The phone board lit up.
“Looks like you’ve got listener calls already,” Jonny observed.
“Don’t go anywhere, I still wanna talk to you.”
Dana hit the button on the audio board to answer the phone. The phone line ran through the board to record listeners they wanted to put on the air. Dana spoke into the microphone to talk to the listeners while their voice came over the speakers. If she was recording them, their voice only came through her headphones. She wasn’t recording the call.
“Hello…Dana Drew here.”
“Hi Dana, it’s Larry.”
“Larry, hi, what can I do you for?”
“Dana, it’s your friend, Larry. We finally met in person last night.”
“Oh, right, Larry. How the hell are ya?” Dana shrugged her shoulders at Jonny and mouthed, “chronic.” He understood immediately. Some listeners truly believed the deejays were their friends. They listened every day and felt close to the jocks. Unlike TV, radio deejays were accessible. You could call them and see them at appearances. “Chronics” were the ones who confused the line between show and reality.
“I’m great now that we finally met. I gotta thank you for your advice. You were right. I could do much better than my ex.”
“Glad I could help.” Dana distractedly flipped through the liner cards for her show that evening.
“Me too. So what’s new in your life?”
“Everything’s okay Larry...” she motioned to Jonny to interrupt the call.
“Dana,” Jonny said loudly, “I have to talk to you.”
“Oh, sorry Larry, I have to go. That’s my boss. He needs me.”
“Sure Dana, I understand. I’ll call you later.”
“Great,” she answered and hung up, then turned to Jonny. “Thanks. That guy’s been calling like crazy today. He left some messages on my voicemail and he showed up last night at Scully’s, wanted a picture with me.”
“Maybe he’ll make you forget about Sam.”
“Oh, yeah, right.”
“Dana, you’ll get over him and you’ll start to feel better. You’re still young.”
“I may be young, but that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to settle down.”
“Don’t let your fans hear that. Somehow Dana Drew in a house with a white picket fence and two point five kids doesn’t fit the image.”
“The image is when I’m at work, not at home.”
“You can let yourself believe that Dana, but you know as well as I do it’s hard to leave the job behind.”
“I know. I still want to do it though.”
“You’ll get what you want. Sam just wasn’t the one, but, hey...maybe he’ll hear your voice in his car and realize what a mistake he’s made.”
Dana’s face brightened. “You think?”
“Who knows? Don’t count on it though, just get on with your life.”
“Easy for you to say.” She twirled a lock of black hair through her fingers. “How’s Jill by the way?”
“She’s fine. She’s swamped with a big project at work. She has to partner with Nick Coleman.”
“Poor Jill.”
“I know.”
“Well, send her my sympathies.”
“I will.” He looked at his watch. “Speaking of Jill, I better go. Don’t want to be late for dinner.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Have a good night Dana,” Jonny said, his voice softening. “I mean it, take care of yourself.”
“Thanks I appreciate it.”
Chapter 18
Larry Carter took out the picture from the night before and studied it. Dana’s smile looked fake he decided. She didn’t seem genuinely happy. Although, he did have to admit, they made a stunning couple.
He had doubles made of the photo and was going to send her a copy. He wanted to enclose a letter, he just wasn’t sure what to write. He bought a sweet card with a picture of a rose on the front. The card was blank inside. None of the messages in the other cards said what he wanted to say. He stared at the blank space in front of him. He didn’t know exactly what to say either.
Larry pulled a scrap piece of paper and began writing, scribbling out words as he went along. Two hours later