Chapter Two
“WHAT?”
Tate’s eyes clashed with Noelle’s. They’d cried out at the same time. The horror on her face matched his feelings exactly. The fact that they agreed on something would’ve been funny in almost any other circumstance.
“Now, now. Don’t sound so excited.” Deb’s droll tone drew Tate’s attention, but did nothing to calm him.
“Deb, you might not have noticed, but our shows focus on very different things,” Noelle answered. Tate admired her ability to speak so evenly when he felt like he’d been sucker punched.
Their boss nodded. “Yes, but that’s why I love the idea. On the surface your shows are different, but you both talk about relationships—Noelle, the one-on-one kind and Tate, the team-dynamics type.”
He shifted in the chair, desperate to kill the idea before she became attached to it. “No offense to Noelle, but my listeners don’t want to discuss whether or not they should have a scheduled date night.”
Noelle threw a glare his way. “My listeners don’t want to talk about whether or not the Cowboys should find a new field goal kicker.”
“Zip it.” Deb held up a finger. “One, all listeners like a good debate.” She held up another finger. “Two, I’m not taking your shows away from you. You’ll still be able to host your own shows.”
At that bit of good news, both Tate and Noelle eased back in their chairs.
“What I want to do is take the last hour of your show, Noelle, and the first hour of your show, Tate, and form a new show—a bridge between your respective programs. You can talk about sports and relationships or whatever you want. I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Surely our interactions yesterday caused a stir because they were unexpected,” Noelle said. “There’s no guarantee a joint show will be successful or even interesting.”
Deb lifted an autocratic eyebrow. “I know you two. I have no doubt it’ll be interesting. This will work. It has to.” Her voice trailed off, a shadow sliding across her face.
Has to? Tate tensed. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling us?”
Deb took a deep breath. “Voices Media wants to get out of the radio business and concentrate on their other media holdings. In order to do that, they need to make the station as attractive as possible. Bigger ratings mean more potential buyers at a higher price. Higher ratings will also help all of us keep our jobs when the station is sold.”
“My ratings have steadily increased over the year,” Noelle said.
“Yes, they have,” Deb said. “However, they aren’t as high as we’d like.”
“Oh.” Noelle looked down at her hands, her shoulders drooping. Tate almost felt sorry for her.
“Tate can bring you more male listeners, and you can bring him more female listeners.”
“Hey, I have plenty of female listeners,” he said, leaning forward. “I have the highest-rated sports talk show in the Metroplex.”
Deb nodded. “True on both accounts. However, your ratings have stagnated over the past year. Our other shows have seen growth, but not yours. Most sports talk shows are finding more listeners. We want to increase your listenership before it starts to bleed.”
She sounded confident and focused. She’d obviously recovered from her brief lapse. Tate knew there was no changing her mind. He slumped back in the chair.
“You’ll start tomorrow. I expect you two to brainstorm before then and come up with a workable plan,” Deb said.
“How long is this supposed to last?” Noelle asked.
“Two and a half weeks. That’s when the current ratings period ends. After that, we should know more about where we stand.” Deb nodded and turned to her computer.
Meeting over.
Tate stood and held the door open. Noelle swept through. “Bye, Sandy,” she said, waving to the admin assistant and continuing on her way.
Tate added his good-bye and followed his new cohost into the hall. Neither spoke, the only sound coming courtesy of the quick click clack of Noelle’s heels on the tile floor. At the conference room, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Tate assumed he was supposed to follow. He acquiesced and shut the door behind them.
Noelle took a quick step toward him, anger flashing across her face. “This is all your fault.”
“My fault?” Tate retorted, pointing at his chest.
“You started it by interrupting my show.”
“Well, no one told you to call my show to retaliate.”
“This is ridiculous.” Noelle slammed her hands on her trim waist and glared at him.
He grinned. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He’d been feeling restless lately. Ruffling the feathers of the prim and proper Dr. Noelle could be just the thing to get him out of his rut. “What’s the problem? You’re not scared of me, are you?”
She moved closer, her gray eyes turning to steel. “The only thing I’m scared of is you ruining my show. I take my job seriously. I prepare. I don’t show up two minutes before I’m supposed to go live.” By the end of the tirade, she stood directly in front of him poking her finger at his chest.
Now, he was mad. His whole body practically vibrated with the effort to hold it in. Yes, he liked to have fun and took an unorthodox approach to running his show, but he didn’t appreciate his work ethic being questioned. He’d been doing this a long time, certainly longer than she had. He grabbed her finger. “Listen up, Dr. Noelle. I might not do things like you do them, but I get results. In case you forgot, my ratings are higher than yours.”
“That’s because you have the drive-home time slot. Of course your ratings are going to be higher,” she countered, stepping closer and glaring up at him.
Tate bent his head down till their noses almost touched. “Not to mention the fact that my show is more interesting than yours.”
Her eyes blazed. She yanked her finger out of his hand and poked him again. “It is not.”
“Is, too.”
“Is not.”
“Enough,” another voice called out from across the room.
Noelle and Tate sprang apart for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. They whipped their heads toward the door where Caitlin and Bobby stood. Bobby with his mouth agape, Caitlin with a furrowed brow.
“We heard y’all out in the hall,” Caitlin continued. “Deb debriefed us. We’re going to find a way to make this work.”
“You sure?” Bobby rubbed his hands together. “Watching them go at it is more entertaining than anything I’ve seen on TV in the last month.”
Tate shot his sidekick a narrow-eyed look. “Thanks. Glad we could make your day.”
Noelle smoothed a hand down her shirtfront, drawing his attention to the flatness of her abdomen. “Caitlin is right. We’re adults.” The glance she sent his way said she wasn’t sure about him, however. “We have to learn to coexist.” She glanced at her watch. “But not right now. My show starts in a little over an hour. I need to finish prepping.” She sent him another look he had no trouble interpreting to mean he should try the method sometime.
He flashed another grin, hoping it would annoy her. Knowing it would.
Nose in the air, she turned to her producer. “Caitlin, are you ready?”
“Yes, but we should set up a time to meet tonight. Let’s say 6:15 after Tate’s show ends.”
“Fine,” Noelle said.
Tate nodded. Let the fun with the doctor begin.
…
Noelle collapsed into her desk chair, her brain scrambling to make sense of everything that had occurred in the past thirty minutes. One concern rose to the forefront. She couldn’t lose her job. Every time she put on her headphones and her show’s theme song played in her ears, she knew everything was going to be okay. She’d lost her parents a long time ago and her listeners had helped fill that void. She loved helping them rediscover the joy in their lives. If she sometimes doubted that she could find that happiness for herself or that she even deserved it…well, it didn’t matter because her listeners needed her. They valued her. What would she do without them? Who would she be?
“Are you okay?”
The question pulled Noelle out of her depressing reverie. She focused on Caitlin, whose pretty, heart-shaped face was pinched with worry. Noelle forced the corners of her lips upward. “As good as can be expected. I’m so proud of the show and what we’ve accomplished over the past year.”
Caitlin settled her petite frame in a chair in front of Noelle’s desk. “As you should be.”
“Thanks, but to think it can all be taken away in the blink of an eye is scary.”
“That’s how radio is. Stations change formats and on-air talent all the time.”
Noelle’s eyes went wide, her stomach bottoming out.
“But that won’t happen to you,” Caitlin hastily added. “The show is great. Deb just wants to make the station look better for the sale. Besides, you’re going to be a famous author soon. You won’t need this job.”
Noelle sent her a wry smile. “First of all, I haven’t sold my book yet. More importantly, I love this job. Well, I did. Now I have to work with that man.”
Caitlin’s forehead creased. “Speaking of Tate, what possessed you to call his show?”
Noelle dropped her head in her hand and groaned. “I don’t know. I was mad at him for interrupting my show. It was an impulse.”
“That’s so unlike you.” Confusion laced Caitlin’s tone.
“I know, and it bit me in the butt, which is why I always think things through before I act. I hope he doesn’t try to sabotage this.” She raised her head. “But, hey, it’s only two, no, two and a half weeks. How bad can it be?”
Caitlin laughed. “Maybe you and Tate will get a reality TV show out of it.”
Noelle smiled, her spirits lifting. “Yeah, who needs The Real Housewives when you can watch The Real Radio Show Hosts of Dallas, instead? Must-see TV.”
…
“I didn’t know someone could get under your skin like that,” Bobby said from the door to Tate’s office.
Tate looked up from his computer. “What are you talking about?”
Bobby took a seat across from Tate. “Usually nothing bothers you, but I thought you and Noelle were going to throw down.”
“Give me a break. I’d never hit a woman. Even one as annoying and stuck-up as Noelle.”
Bobby wiggled his blond eyebrows. “You mean as sexy as Noelle.”
Tate jerked back in his chair. “Are you smoking something?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the sexy-librarian thing she has going on.”
“If you mean her boring clothes, then yeah. Skirts down to her knees, and she must own stock in oxford shirts. Don’t see how that can be construed as sexy.” He liked his women a lot less uptight and a lot less dressed.
Bobby crossed his arms over his burly chest. “You mean oxford shirts with all those buttons begging to be unbuttoned. Dude, come on. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”
Yes, he’d noticed. Not only the shirts, which contoured to full breasts, but also the skirts that skimmed curvaceous hips and a full, round ass. Not that he’d admit it to Bobby or even wanted to admit to himself. She drove him insane. And not in the good way. In the year she’d worked at the station, he’d yet to detect a sense of humor in Noelle, probably because she was too busy sending him disapproving frowns every time he tried to lighten the mood at staff meetings. “Shocking as it may seem, I’m not interested in your horndog state of mind right now. I need to make sure she doesn’t ruin my show.”
“She’s not as bad as you think.”
“How do you figure that?” Had his show’s producer gotten chummy with the good doctor without his knowledge? And why did that send a note of disquiet through him?
“She’s joined at the hip with Caitlin. Caitlin’s not going to hang out with people she can’t force to be happy. Plus, I’ve listened to her show. She gives good advice while still being relatable.”
Tate wasn’t convinced.
“Noelle Knows starts in ten minutes,” Bobby continued. “Why don’t you listen—really listen? Maybe she’ll surprise you. You might find y’all aren’t as different as you think.”
“Me? Listen to a love-advice show for three hours?” He’d be bored in five minutes.
Bobby shook his head. “Dude, you have to make this work.”
Tate sighed. Bobby was right. He liked his job and had a professional standard to maintain. “Fine, but I’m getting out of here, so I can listen in peace.” He held up a hand before Bobby could shoot down the idea. “I’ll be back by two. I won’t be late. Yesterday was out of my control.”
He exited his office and made the short trip to his car. Horrible traffic notwithstanding, driving relaxed him. Taking his pride and joy, his Mercedes G550, out on the road cleared his head. Lately, he’d been taking more drives than usual.
Tate started the SUV and turned on the radio. As he exited the parking lot, a car insurance commercial ended and the Noelle Knows intro played.
“Hello, everyone. Welcome to Noelle Knows. I’m Noelle Butler, and I’m at your service. Last night, I got an email from a listener seeking advice about whether or not she should break up with her boyfriend. They had amazing chemistry at the start of the relationship, but her feelings have cooled, so today I thought we’d talk about knowing the difference between Mr. or Ms. Right and Mr. or Ms. Right Now. You know—the guy who sends butterflies flying through your stomach. But is he a keeper? Will the butterflies eventually crash-land? How do you know? I have my own theories, but as always, I’m here to take your calls and hear what you have to say.”
Oh, man. He couldn’t wait to hear her theories. Not that he believed in Ms. or Mr. Right. That was BS made up by and for women. Like his mother. Men who got married were either browbeat into it or afraid of ending up alone. Like his father.
“I’ve counseled many couples over the years,” she said. “This is what I know. The butterflies are great. The first few weeks or months are amazing when you want to be with him all the time, when you catch your breath when he walks into the room, when all his quirks are cute. But there’s going to come a time when the quirks get on your last nerve.” She chuckled. “You know what I’m talking about. That moment when you think, if he leaves his dirty towel on the floor one more time, you’re going to strangle him with it and enjoy every second of it. And after that, there’s no way the butterflies will fly quite so high. Does that mean it’s time to move on?”
“Yes,” Tate said to the radio.
“Well, it depends,” she continued. “While butterflies are important, they aren’t the only factor to consider when deciding whether or not to continue a relationship.”
“Does any factor trump boredom?” he muttered.
“What are those other factors? My three Cs: cool, commitment, and communication. Are you cool with each other? Do you enjoy hanging out with each other with no one else around or any craziness going on? Are you committed to each other and making the relationship work? Finally, are you respectfully communicating with each other about your feelings? If you are living the three Cs, you might want to consider hanging on to him.”
Tate thumped his head against the headrest. Was this what he had to look forward to for the next few weeks?
…
“Thanks for listening to The Tate Grayson Show. Tomorrow, I have a surprise. Tune in an hour early to find out what’s going on. Until then, I’m Tate…”
“The Great,” Bobby said.
“Grayson.”
Tate removed his headphones. A good show, but not his best. He’d been distracted, his first prep meeting with Dr. Noelle looming large on his mind.
“Ready?” Bobby asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to see what kind of presentation the good doctor put together. You know she did. Probably something that explains how the show will change the world if we use her favorite psychological theories. Documented in a PowerPoint slideshow, no doubt.”
Bobby sent him a side-eye glance. “You’re crazy. You know that, right?”
Tate grinned. “I plead the Fifth.”
They exited the studio and made their way to the same conference room where he’d had the confrontation with Noelle earlier. Noelle and Caitlin were already waiting. Tate and Bobby sat across from them at the square glass table.
“Hello, ladies,” Tate said. “Ready to discuss the Tate and Dr. Noelle Show?”
Noelle’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t react otherwise. Too bad. He knew he probably shouldn’t try to get a rise out of her, but she made it so easy.
“I listened to your show this afternoon,” she said. “You have an unorthodox style of flitting from topic to topic.”
Tate hitched a shoulder. “If a caller brings up something interesting, I’m happy to follow the tangent.”
“I noticed. I don’t work that way.”
He relaxed back in the chair. “Shocking.” He nodded at the sheet of paper on the table in front of her. It wasn’t a PowerPoint presentation, but it still looked way too official from what he could see. “What do you have there, Dr. Noelle?”
Her lips pushed up into a stiff smile. “It’s a preliminary plan for the show.”
She slid it across the table. He perused the contents, his muscles tightening in anger despite his repeated promises to himself not to lose his cool around her again. He dropped the paper on the table and raised his gaze to hers. “You do realize I host a sports show.”
Noelle’s chin lifted. “Yes.”
“Then why do sports comprise roughly ten minutes of your vision for our show?”
“You can’t seriously expect me to talk about sports for two hours.”
The way she said “sports” made him think she considered them right above dog poop on the gross scale. “I don’t want to talk about feelings for two hours.”
“That’s too bad.”
“No, it’s not.” The words burst from him before he could rein them in. Why did he resort to acting like a six-year-old around her?
Their eyes battled across the table. I’m not ending it first. Another childish impulse, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.
“Caitlin and I brainstormed earlier and came up with some ideas,” Bobby said. Tate started. He’d forgotten they weren’t alone.
Noelle turned to Caitlin, betrayal written all over her face. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Caitlin squirmed under her scrutiny. “It was only a contingency plan in case…”
“We started squabbling.” Noelle sighed.
Bobby cleared his throat. Alex turned to his friend, who opened a folder and took out some papers.
“As I was saying, we came up with a few ideas,” Bobby said. “Let’s go over them.”
“No,” Noelle and Tate said simultaneously. Surprised, Tate shifted toward her. He read embarrassment in her expression. Without taking his eyes away from her, he said, “Bobby. Caitlin. Out. Thanks for coming up with some ideas, but it’s our show and we have to figure this out on our own.”
“But not tonight,” Caitlin objected. “The first show is tomorrow.”
“Yes, tonight,” Noelle said.
Tate nodded at her, ignoring the twin sounds of surprise from Caitlin and Bobby.
“Tate’s right.” Noelle held up a hand. “Yes, we agree on something. It probably won’t happen again, so we need to take advantage of the opportunity while we can.”
Bobby and Caitlin hesitated, looking nervously at each other.
“We’re big kids. We can spend time together without killing each other,” Tate said, drumming his fingers on the table.
The producers reluctantly gathered their belongings and departed. Of course, not before each sent one last uncertain look at him and Noelle.
Tate shook his head and turned back to the good doctor, who was inspecting him like he was one of her patients, someone she needed to dig deep into. Not going to happen. There was nothing wrong with him. He could handle one uppity psychologist with one hand tied behind his back. He let his signature grin spread across his face.
She didn’t look away. Not even close. Instead, determination lit her eyes.
Hmm. Maybe she would be a worthy opponent.
But did it matter? Tate sighed. No, it didn’t. Battling with Noelle wasn’t the answer. Not if he wanted their show to succeed. And he did. Not because he needed the money. He didn’t. But he couldn’t get the worried look on Deb’s face off his mind, and he didn’t want to let her down.
Besides, it was only three weeks. Less than. Then they could go their separate ways and he’d never be stupid enough to call into her show again.
“Noelle…”
“Tate…”
They’d spoken at the same time. He held out his palm, inviting her to continue.
“We’re stuck in this situation. Neither of us likes it, but my listeners need me, and I refuse to let them down. I’m a professional, and I assume you can pretend to be one.” She waved her hand and closed her eyes for a beat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Old habits. You’re really good at your job. It’s not my style, but I can’t deny your success.”
“Thanks,” he said slowly, stunned at the compliment. Even more so at how it sent pleasure rushing through him. “But we’ve got to talk about this agenda of yours. You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought, but it’s not going to work. Guys tuning in to hear about the latest NBA trade aren’t going to be happy hearing me talk about the value of Valentine’s Day.”
“I see your point, but here’s the thing.” She leaned across the table, her eyes filling with intensity. “Most people are in or want to be in some type of relationship whether that’s a long-term, committed marriage or a one-night stand. Men have feelings, too. Maybe they’d be willing to talk about them if you, their hero, did.”
Tate tapped his fingers on the table. “I hear what you’re saying, but men don’t talk about feelings.”
She smiled, an act which softened her features and transformed her face from attractive to stunning. Damn. Where had that come from? He blinked, refocusing, as he realized she was talking.
“I know. I’m a psychologist. I’ve been there, done that, struggling to get male clients to open up, but it does happen, especially once they realize I offer them a safe haven away from criticism. I apologize for not including much sports on the agenda, but I don’t know much about them.”
He grinned. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I can teach you anything you need to know.”
The unintentional innuendo reverberated in the air. A man more than comfortable with the sparks that flew between men and women, he still shifted in the chair, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t want her to think he was attracted to her. How could he be? She had commitment written all over her. For him, relationships were all about temporary fun. Women looking for a ring need not apply.
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said dryly. “We go on in,” she looked at her watch, “less than twenty hours, so let’s figure this out. Sports and relationships, what do they have in common?”
“Both are tough and require teamwork and communication,” he said, more than happy to move on.
Noelle nodded. “You’re right. If there’s one thing I do know about sports, it’s that if a team is going to be successful, its members have to work together.”
“As a psychologist, you probably know the best way people in relationships and teammates should communicate.”
“There is no one right way to communicate, but there are some methods I advocate.”
“Some of which I probably disagree with.”
“Even though you shouldn’t.” She smiled, taking the sting out of her words.
Wait. Did Dr. Noelle possess a sense of humor? He returned the gesture. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be a total disaster.
“You could bring your sports perspective and your perspective as a man when talking about relationships,” she continued. “I can use my training as a psychologist to talk about issues in sports and how best to handle them.”
“You might be on to something. Let’s try it out and see how it goes. Deal?” He held out his hand. She smiled that mind-blowing smile again and leaned across the table. When their palms met, a volt of electricity raced up his arm. Shit.
Her smile froze, like she felt it, too, although she didn’t pull away. “Deal.”