Free Love on the Air by Sierra Donovan Page A

another hapless jock. Two, he
was fair game. In fact, if the jokes were on him, so
much the better. Rick pulled on his headphones and
got back to work, watching Christie as she did the
same.
    He knew he was playing with fire. But it served her
right for biting her lip like that.
    The week flew by.
    Christie's mornings with Mark McKeon were every
bit as bad as Rick had warned. He was arrogant and
dismissive, never speaking to her on the air and rarely at any other time. He obviously considered her news
an interruption of his show; Christie wondered if he
was any more civil to Jonathan.

    The afternoons made up for it though. Being in the
studio with Rick kept her on her toes in more ways
than one, but she was learning. Their breaks together
after the news kept getting better. No elaborate,
scripted comedy bits, just simple, light banter. All
things considered, Christie hated to see the week come
to an end.
    She was passing through the lobby on Friday, just
before her two P.M. air shift, when a woman walked
in the front door with a small boy. The receptionist
wasn't up front, which wasn't unusual. At first, Christie had thought the girl was lazy, but that was before
she found out how many other tasks Karen was pulled
away from her desk to do.
    Christie, in turn, had learned a thing or two about
helping out at the front desk. "May I help you?"
    "Is Rick here?" the woman said without preamble,
and those three words brought the woman and boy into
sharp focus.
    She had never consciously tried to picture Rick's
ex-wife, but somehow, this was just what Christie
would have expected. She was tall, blonde and very
pretty, with light blue eyes. At the moment she wore
a preoccupied expression. The boy looked about six
years old, with light brown hair. A dinosaur backpack
hung loosely on his arm.
    "Rick? He's out on a live appearance." Christie's
clerical smile never deserted her. "Is there anything I
can help you with?"

    The blonde looked even more distracted. "When
will he be back?"
    Christie glanced at her watch, and remembered she
was well aware what time it was: ten minutes before
she was due to go on the air. "The remote ends at two,
and it's just a few blocks away. I imagine about fifteen
minutes."
    "Oh." The woman put her hands on the little boy's
shoulders. "I have to get back from my lunch break.
Can I leave him with you?"
    As if he were a UPS package, she thought. Christie's gaze shifted down to the solemn little face. Blue
eyes, but darker than his mother's. "Would that be all
right with you, hon?" Christie asked.
    The boy shrugged. "Sure."
    "Thank you." The former Mrs. Fox squeezed his
small shoulder with a well-manicured hand and was
quickly out the door.
    Well, this was awkward. Christie glanced at her
watch again, not surprised to find it was now eight
minutes to two. She smiled at the boy. "Have a seat."
    He plunked down on the fat brown cushions of the
lobby couch, his short legs sticking out straight in
front of him. He clutched a small action figure in his
hand. Christie glanced down the hallway, but there
was no sign of Karen's imminent return. If she didn't
show up in the next few minutes, Christie decided,
she'd take him into the studio with her. He seemed
like a quiet little boy, and he'd probably been there
before.
    Rick had never even mentioned his son. What kind
of a father was he?

    "What's your name, honey?"
    "Jason."
    "Do you get to see your dad very often?"
    The boy shrugged apathetically. "He's usually too
busy."
    Christie's opinion of Rick plummeted. She sat down
on the couch beside Jason and turned her attention to
the figure in his hands, a familiar green-faced monster.
"That's a cool-looking Frankenstein monster there."
    Jason turned his head toward her, noticeably more
animated. "His name's not Frankenstein," he said authoritatively. "That's the doctor's name."
    Christie nodded, trying to match his seriousness.
"Of course. Everyone knows