away. “Come by my office and get a T-shirt with the station call letters. You own a pair of white shorts, I’m sure.”
“Yes, but why can’t I wear jeans?”
Sullivan paused at the door. “This is show biz, babe. People listen to you and turn out to see you in person. They want to look at you in a tight T-shirt and a pair of shorts that show off your long, tanned legs.”
“Well—” Kay followed him, saying indignantly “—maybe I don’t want to show off my legs and my…my…”
“Come off it, Kay,” Sullivan said coldly. “You rode in a Los Angeles parade in a damned brief bikini that almost showed your…your…” He slammed out of the door and was gone.
Kay, face pink, hands balled into fists at her sides, gritted her teeth, stormed out into the hall and to the privacy of her small office. It was not until she’d fumed for several minutes, pacing back and forth before the tall windows, that she stopped abruptly and wondered aloud, “How did Sullivan know about a parade I was in four years ago? And why has he remembered it all this time?”
Kay stood on the sunny balcony of her new high-rise apartment overlooking Cheeseman Park and dried her long, silvery hair while sipping a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
It was Saturday morning. The week had passed quickly; the hours spent on the air with Sullivan had been exciting, fun, like old times. Off the air, it was a different story. Sullivan had little to do with her and his black mood had gone unnoticed by no one. Bubbly Sherry had commented bluntly that she’d never seen Sullivan so bad-tempered. Ever-patient Janelle Davis had once been seen leaving his office near to tears, and even Sam Shults had dropped in on Kay to quiz her about Sullivan’s disagreeable behavior.
Only Jeff Kerns seemed unmoved by Sullivan’s frequent outbursts and long silences. Jeff was in and out of Sullivan’s office just as he had always been, and more often than not shouting could be heard through the closed door. Jeff would exit, smiling as though nothing undue had taken place.
Kay was all too aware that Sullivan’s bad humor was because she was back, but the depth of his displeasure was puzzling. She could understand his being resentful. She’d been young and very ambitious. When she’d been offered a slot at one of L.A.’s top radio stations, she’d been thrilled and flattered. She’d accepted the offer, leaving their successful team show, despite the fact that she was in love with Sullivan Ward.
Over and over again she’d asked Sullivan if she was doing the right thing by taking the offered west-coast job. Each time she’d hoped he’d beg her to stay in Denver. She’d prayed he’d say that he loved her and couldn’t bear to let her go. But he never had. His answer was always that it was a great opportunity and that she should make up her own mind.
Even on that last night, when Sullivan had made love to her for the first and last time, he still did not tell her to stay. Not even when she’d lain trustingly in his arms.
Kay shook her head, rose and went inside to dress for the charity football game. Unaware of just how attractive she looked, Kay, in a snug red T-shirt with “Q102” splashed across it, tight white shorts exposing her long, tanned legs and silver hair pushed up under a crimson baseball cap, swept through the glass double doors of Q102 forty-five minutes before game time.
Other Q102 employees, dressed identically to Kay, were milling around in the reception area, laughing, drinking coffee and eating doughnuts. Sherry Jones spotted Kay and immediately flew over to meet her. “Kay, you look gorgeous.” Sherry’s sparkling green eyes swept over Kay’s trim figure. “I wish I were slender like you. I didn’t eat a bit of supper for the last two nights hoping I’d lose five pounds by this morning so I’d look good in these shorts, but it didn’t happen.” Sherry pouted prettily and twisted a long strand of her auburn hair
“Yes, but why can’t I wear jeans?”
Sullivan paused at the door. “This is show biz, babe. People listen to you and turn out to see you in person. They want to look at you in a tight T-shirt and a pair of shorts that show off your long, tanned legs.”
“Well—” Kay followed him, saying indignantly “—maybe I don’t want to show off my legs and my…my…”
“Come off it, Kay,” Sullivan said coldly. “You rode in a Los Angeles parade in a damned brief bikini that almost showed your…your…” He slammed out of the door and was gone.
Kay, face pink, hands balled into fists at her sides, gritted her teeth, stormed out into the hall and to the privacy of her small office. It was not until she’d fumed for several minutes, pacing back and forth before the tall windows, that she stopped abruptly and wondered aloud, “How did Sullivan know about a parade I was in four years ago? And why has he remembered it all this time?”
Kay stood on the sunny balcony of her new high-rise apartment overlooking Cheeseman Park and dried her long, silvery hair while sipping a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
It was Saturday morning. The week had passed quickly; the hours spent on the air with Sullivan had been exciting, fun, like old times. Off the air, it was a different story. Sullivan had little to do with her and his black mood had gone unnoticed by no one. Bubbly Sherry had commented bluntly that she’d never seen Sullivan so bad-tempered. Ever-patient Janelle Davis had once been seen leaving his office near to tears, and even Sam Shults had dropped in on Kay to quiz her about Sullivan’s disagreeable behavior.
Only Jeff Kerns seemed unmoved by Sullivan’s frequent outbursts and long silences. Jeff was in and out of Sullivan’s office just as he had always been, and more often than not shouting could be heard through the closed door. Jeff would exit, smiling as though nothing undue had taken place.
Kay was all too aware that Sullivan’s bad humor was because she was back, but the depth of his displeasure was puzzling. She could understand his being resentful. She’d been young and very ambitious. When she’d been offered a slot at one of L.A.’s top radio stations, she’d been thrilled and flattered. She’d accepted the offer, leaving their successful team show, despite the fact that she was in love with Sullivan Ward.
Over and over again she’d asked Sullivan if she was doing the right thing by taking the offered west-coast job. Each time she’d hoped he’d beg her to stay in Denver. She’d prayed he’d say that he loved her and couldn’t bear to let her go. But he never had. His answer was always that it was a great opportunity and that she should make up her own mind.
Even on that last night, when Sullivan had made love to her for the first and last time, he still did not tell her to stay. Not even when she’d lain trustingly in his arms.
Kay shook her head, rose and went inside to dress for the charity football game. Unaware of just how attractive she looked, Kay, in a snug red T-shirt with “Q102” splashed across it, tight white shorts exposing her long, tanned legs and silver hair pushed up under a crimson baseball cap, swept through the glass double doors of Q102 forty-five minutes before game time.
Other Q102 employees, dressed identically to Kay, were milling around in the reception area, laughing, drinking coffee and eating doughnuts. Sherry Jones spotted Kay and immediately flew over to meet her. “Kay, you look gorgeous.” Sherry’s sparkling green eyes swept over Kay’s trim figure. “I wish I were slender like you. I didn’t eat a bit of supper for the last two nights hoping I’d lose five pounds by this morning so I’d look good in these shorts, but it didn’t happen.” Sherry pouted prettily and twisted a long strand of her auburn hair
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