You’ve heard of the saying opinions were like assholes and everyone had one? Well, on that note, of all the assholes out there, the corporate suit wearing kind surrounding me had no business offering an opinion. When it came to knowing how to interact during a live show, I was better off taking advice from my doorman…at least he listened to the radio often.
Yet there they sat around a massive mahogany conference room table spurting out ideas and opinions that caused me to cringe.
My eyes connected with my producer’s across the table. She raised a brow in a silent scold…most likely due to the scoffs, eye-rolls, and huffs of air coming from me.
Too damn bad. What were they going to do fire me? My show was to debut in just two days, and thanks to my lawyer my contract was ironclad for a year.
At the mention of creating a listener appreciation day, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Gentlemen, this isn’t the pop station that caters to teeny boppers in love with Justin Bieber. My education and experience in sex therapy speak for themselves. I don’t need gimmicks to help me build an audience. All I need is my first show to be organic and uncensored.”
I drilled my eyes through each and every one of them to drive home my point. Censorship that came from being on regular radio stopped me from having the creative license needed when explaining sexual situations in detail. Coming to Galaxy Satellite Radio would give me warrant to speak frankly while holding nothing back…provided the executives didn’t get in my way.
I wasn’t disillusioned to think they’d sit back and give me all the power. That wasn’t how corporate America worked. Regardless, I needed to set the tone now that I ran this show my way.
“Vaughn.” My gaze swung to the general manager and I waited for him to speak. “You’re right. This is the first program of its kind, and we’re, in essence, flying by the seat of our pants. In spite of the conservative way we run Galaxy, we will let you do your thing. Let’s regroup in two weeks to assess the success of the show. Just like the ads all over the country claim, you are the King of Romance.”
Without looking, I knew all six pairs of eyes were on me. Whether he just set me up for success or failure would become clear in fourteen days.
“No pressure.”
“We believe in you, Vaughn.”
It didn’t matter if those were empty words since my contract paid me three million for one year, with renegotiations at the end of that time. Whether I was on the air or not, I’d get paid. Most wouldn’t care if the latter happened knowing they were golden for at least a year. I cared. Failure wasn’t in my makeup.
“Thank you, Paul,” was all I said in response.
After a few pleasantries were exchanged and a few questions asked from how was I adjusting in New York City to places I needed to dine at, it felt like hours later by the time Natalie and I were alone.
I met her when Galaxy propositioned me. It was Natalie’s idea to combine the shock jock format on satellite radio with sex therapy and syndicate it from coast to coast. While traveling through Los Angeles on business, she heard my radio show. Liking what I had to say and how I sounded, she flew back to New York and pitched the idea to Galaxy. They loved it, and a week later I was at their corporate headquarters discussing my new career.
So, I guess I owed my producer for this opportunity. Of course, my success would benefit her as well. Natalie would be receiving an impressive bonus if the show took off.
The night we signed our contracts, she and I celebrated at The Palm. Unfortunately, Natalie was just my type—tall, blonde, curvy, and smart. Fortunately, Natalie was in a relationship, making her off limits.
Hooking up would complicate things in the worst of ways. Mainly because my expiration date on relationships averaged three months, which meant my contract with Galaxy would surpass that three times over. That would leave nine long awkward months I’d have to work with Natalie after it ended between us… because it always ended.
There were plenty of fish in the sea, especially fish I didn’t have to work with on a daily basis.
“So, that was… fun,” she said with sarcasm after the last suit closed the door behind him.
“They must be used to incompetency around here.”
Her ruby-tinted lips spread into a slow smile. “Welcome to Galaxy. I’ve been with this company for five years now. Believe me when I say they must have faith in your talents.”
“Why’s that? Because they backed off?”
She shook her head, turning the smile into a smirk. “No, because you’re here.”
I allowed my exasperation to show on my face. “You guys came to me.”
“Yes we did, Vaughn, on a leap of faith. Faith in you, faith in me, and faith that no one has a show like this in the business. The other sex programs are all clinical. You bring sexy into the mix, and listeners eat that shit up. But that doesn’t mean Galaxy is not nervous. Their success came via the safe route, you know oldies but goodies.”
I knew this. Hearing it again further supported how tenacious and persuasive my producer could be.
“When I pitched the idea for The Love Lair, I reminded them they weren’t known for being innovative. Galaxy is often referred to as a dinosaur, even in the groundbreaking industry known as satellite radio. Yes, they were the first to pave the way, but they’re the last to step things up.” Natalie shook her head in exasperation. “They are very stubborn. But after my poignant recap of our competition’s success over the past two years, they finally heard me. That was the real reason you’ve been given this opportunity. Paul recognized things had to change, and he’s banking on you to make it happen.”
“Done.”
The open floor plan of my apartment was nothing like the traditional townhouse I owned in L.A. The fact that my car was parked in a garage a half a block away, and not in a garage a few feet from my front door, just plain sucked. The constant noise outside my windows was annoying as all hell. I haven’t slept soundly since arriving to New York.
In L.A., I had a fenced-in yard, with an outdoor bar area and a Jacuzzi, where I’d entertain often. Here in New York I had to look out my windows and stare at Central Park to see grass.
Despite all that, I began to slowly get used to my new habitat within the jungle known as Manhattan.
The weekend Haven and I flew out to see apartments, we decided on the one I chose because it was vacant and available. Of all the places we looked at, I was told most young professionals would kill for this one. I was also told the fifteen-hundred square feet was very respectable considering what was available in the city. Not to mention, the location was prime and having amenities such as a doorman, a full gym, and a rooftop pool deck were all rare.
All that explained why it was costing me a small fortune.
I did love one thing about my apartment—my bathroom was magnificent. The large natural stone walk-in shower, complete with pulsing shower jets capable of hitting every inch of your body, became my solace in this godforsaken city.
Otherwise, my new home was a noisy, square fishbowl. Haven insisted I needed to cover up the floor-to-ceiling windows in my living room and bedroom with shades. She said New York was a perverted city and creepers were constantly watching.
My teasing response of, “Takes a perv to know a perv. Maybe I’ll fit into New York after all, since when alone I prefer to be naked,” caused her to shove a finger into her mouth and pretend a gag.
She didn’t know it yet, but I compromised by having electronic shades installed that could be lowered in an instant if I needed privacy. Even though the building came equipped with a full-service laundry room, I had my own washer and dryer installed in one of the walk-in closets. The second bedroom would serve as my office space… eventually. Right now it was a huge storage closet.
Even with all the improvements I made, I still missed home. New York would never be my home.
Just as I was paying the deliveryman for our Thai food, Haven stepped off the elevator with a smile.
“You mean you didn’t cook for me?” she teased.
“Haha, smartass.” I hugged her with my free arm and stepped aside so she could walk through the door. “How are you, Perv?”
“Good. Glad to be here, finally.” She stood a few feet into the apartment appraising the new additions of furniture and artwork I added to my existing pieces. “Nice job, Mooner. It’s very neat, and very un-Vaughn-like.” As I placed our take-out on my kitchen island, she moved around the living room smiling at my décor. “I like the new chairs.”
“Thanks. I do, too.”
“I knew all your things would work nicely. I see you listened to my advice,” she added while pointing to the windows.
“I did, sort of.” I lifted a remote and with a press of the button the hidden shades slowly rose over the panes of glass.
“Ah, good compromise.”
“Yep. Now I can walk around naked without worrying my bare ass will end up on the cover of Star Magazine.”
“Your bare ass is nothing to write home about. New Yorkers wouldn’t be impressed.”
“You once said I had a nice ass, liar.”
“I was high as a kite that night.” While laughing at her stupid joke, she moved to the second bedroom door and went to open it.
“Don’t go in there!”
“Why?” The way her brow lifted in a challenge told me she knew why. Ignoring my request, she slowly opened the door and released an audible groan. “Seriously, Vaughn?”
“I had nowhere else to put the stuff.” The room was piled high with boxes. My weights, an old treadmill, a bed, and my desk were buried somewhere in the chaos. Add in a few pieces of furniture I didn’t know what to do with and it made it impossible to even walk into the room.
“I rented you a full storage unit.”
“It’s too far away. What if I needed something?”
“Then you go over and get it. This is what happens when I leave you alone.” She shut the door and shook her head. “How can I relax knowing what’s sitting behind that door?”
Without asking, I poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. “After a few of these you’ll forget all about what’s behind that door.”
We chatted about her move while I pulled out the take-out containers. We loaded up our plates, and she followed me to the living room, sitting on the floor at the coffee table as I did.
“You’re all settled? Do you need help with anything? A hairdresser, maybe?”
Her hand flew to the messy bun sitting on the top of her head. “Bite me.”
“Nope, I’m good with my spring roll.” I took an exaggerated bite and winked. “Seriously, do you need my help tomorrow?” I asked while chewing. “I kept my schedule clear in case you needed me.”
“I’m already unpacked.”
“Of course you are, showoff.” She ignored my jab and took a bite of her Pad Thai chicken. “What about your stupid pictures?”
“My neighbor was a huge help and he hung them all, so you’re off the hook.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” I pretended to be disappointed when she flipped me the finger, when in fact it was relief I felt. I hated hanging pictures, and Haven had so many. She collected pictures of beaches across the globe, and her OCD needed them to be precisely spaced on the wall in a symmetrical grid. She assigned me that horrific task back in college. Since the scale of all she did for me tipped well in my favor, it was the least I could do over the years whenever she moved.
“Wait, did you say he?” I teased.
“Elliott. He’s lived in the building for five years now. Nice guy.” The smile she fought to hide told me all I needed to know. She liked Elliott.
“Gay?”
“No. Very straight.”
“Mullet?” I asked, referring to her asshole-ex.
“Oh my God,” she said on a laugh. “Gregg needed that mullet for a movie role.”
“That’s what wigs are for.”
She crumpled her napkin in a ball and threw it at my face. I laughed out loud at her expense. “Natalie called earlier. She’s so sweet.”
“She likes you. I saw her this morning at corporate. She said if you needed anything to let her know.”
“Yes, she told me same. I appreciate that. Lizzy’s been great helping me get settled, but with Evan away so much, she’s busy with the baby. I hope you didn’t bother her too much.”
“I didn’t bother her at all. Even though I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, I’m not that needy,” I voiced out loud with a smirk.
“I only said that because I was pissed off at you.”
“Whatever.” My annoyed tone contradicted the grin on my face. “We both have our crosses to bear. Mine is being unorganized, and yours is your annoying habits as well as your fashion sense.”
“I hate you.” She pushed her plate away on an eye-roll. “Monday I’ll tackle that room.”
“It can wait. We’ll do it together next weekend.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? You’re lucky I don’t start right now.”