Stay Tuned (19 page)

“Let’s take the elevator,” Rick said, and motioned me to follow.

I hesitated and then peeked inside when the heavy metal doors heaved open. “This is pretty old and rickety. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in here.”

Rick scoffed. “It’s fine.” He held the door open with his foot and I stepped over the threshold and leaned against the wall.

The doors slid shut and locked into place. The inside of the elevator was dingy and dark. A few cobwebs hung from the ceiling. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who never used it.

“Okay, now close your eyes,” Rick said.

“What? Are you playing some kind of joke on me?” I made a face.

“Trust me on this one. It’s a surprise. I want you to see something,” he said. “It’s not scary, I promise.”

The doors were already shut, I didn’t have much choice. I pushed aside a niggling feeling that I shouldn’t be in the elevator—alone with Rick—and shut my eyes.

One of the buttons clicked. I braced myself, but, instead of going down to the first floor, the elevator cranked itself upward, ever so slowly. We moved no faster than a caterpillar climbing a tree trunk. I opened my mouth to ask where we were going.

“Shh!” Rick stopped me. “We’re getting there.”

I thought about the different floors of the building and wondered what Rick was up to. A few had offices in them, but much of it was warehouse space for the television station.

The elevator jolted to a stop. Rick touched my hand as I heard the elevator doors groan open. “Here we are. Almost. You can open your eyes now.”

We faced a huge, empty space, windows on every wall. A few folding chairs were scattered around. Clumps of dust decorated the floor and light fixtures hung precariously from several spots on the ceiling. I didn’t step out of the elevator.

“This isn’t what I wanted to show you. We have to go a little further.” Rick explained. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Back in the dressing room,” I said ruefully.

Rick scoffed and held a button so the elevator doors wouldn’t close. “I don’t believe that for one second. Come on.”

I followed him through the room, our feet silent on the carpeted flooring. We came to another door, which he opened. In the dingy light, I could make out about twenty stairs, which led up to another door.

“That goes outside, doesn’t it? On the roof?” I swiveled my gaze from Rick to the door.

Rick didn’t answer. He marched up the stairs with determination, leaving me at the bottom. When he reached the top, he pressed down on the silver bar on the door and pushed it open. A glow of light filled the dark stairwell.

When my eyes adjusted, I trailed behind him, taking my time. My footsteps echoed in the narrow space. Rick stood to the side of the entryway and held the door. As I stepped out, I saw that we were standing on a balcony, about twelve foot square.

The view amazed me. From our vantage point, one could see every building in the city, cars creeping along the streets, the tops of trees. The windows of the Crowne Plaza Hotel sparkled as the sun sank in the sky.

Rick put his hand on the small of my back. “Nice, isn’t it?”

I shivered from his touch and stepped away.

“Are you cold?” he asked. “You can have my jacket.” He started to take it off.

“No, that’s okay. That breeze gave me a chill,” I explained, though I wasn’t honestly sure whether it was the breeze or Rick standing so close. “It’s really pretty from up here. Thanks for showing me. I never knew this existed.”

Rick took a few steps away. When I turned around, Rick had crouched down and lit candles on a makeshift picnic table where the balcony veered off into a corner.

“Whoa! Wait a minute. What’s all this?” I exclaimed, suddenly nervous. I automatically clutched for my purse and cell phone, but came up empty.
Must have left it downstairs.

A red and white checked tablecloth spread across a wooden crate had two empty wine glasses, grapes, an unopened wine bottle, crackers, and cheese. There were two over-stuffed black pillows to sit on.
Uh-oh.

Rick waved a hand at me, corkscrew in hand. “It’s nothing, really. Just something I threw together at the last minute. To celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” I said slowly. “
What
are we celebrating?”

“Whatever you want,” he replied with an easy grin. “To big changes, new jobs, good friends, you name it.”

“Um, I don’t know.” I glanced back at the door and wondered if Chris had tried to call. I hadn’t talked to him since early this morning. My stomach gurgled. I looked at the grapes longingly. I was famished. I had to eat.

“Stay for a minute,” Rick coaxed. “I’ll make sure you get back in time to finish up the ten o’clock show. Don’t worry.” He concentrated on opening the bottle of wine. “Sit down.”

The cork finally popped out. With flourish, Rick threw a white napkin over his arm, bent the wine bottle, and poured two generous glasses. “I used to be a waiter.”

“Well, that explains everything,” I said. “I’m sure you managed to get some big tips.”

“The best. Plus, I know how to pick out great wine.”

My hunger won out. We sat down on opposite sides of the crate, and I watched the light flicker as I reached for a grape and popped it into my mouth.

“Delicious,” I complimented.

He held up his glass and swirled the wine, making red waves cling to the sides. “This is what we’ll celebrate.” He took a deep breath and tilted the glass in my direction. “To new beginnings!”

“To new beginnings,” I repeated. He was right. That, I could celebrate. I took the tiniest sip possible, and then set the glass down. “No, I can’t do this. I don’t think Drew would approve.” Not on company time, anyway. “I’ll have to pass on the wine.”

“Too bad,” Rick shrugged. “And remember, Drew’s not here.”

“Hey, that doesn’t make it right, Mr. Roberts.” I pushed the glass further away and narrowed my eyes. “Rules are rules. And I’m sure there’s something in some contract…”

Except that we broke out champagne for Tim’s award. But that was different. Work was finished for the night. There was a crowd of people. Not two.

Birds chirped and chased each other on the balcony ledge. Car horns honked in the distance.

Rick added. “You know, that’s what makes you special. You do what you’re supposed to do, even when nobody’s looking.”

I scoffed and waved a hand to make him stop.

“No. Listen. You’re a good anchor, better than you give yourself credit for. I don’t think you realize it, but in no time, you’ll be better than what this market deserves, not a temporary ‘fix.’ Producing is fine—you do an excellent job, by the way—but you’re better suited for on-air work. You could move up, away from Macon, if you felt like it.”

“I haven’t even thought about it.”

“What does Drew say about you continuing to anchor? Have you asked him?”

I heaved a sigh. “I haven’t. I think I want to. I’m really enjoying it!”

Rick frowned. “Let me talk to him. I’ll convince him it’s the right thing to do.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Absolutely not. I need to know I could get the job on my own. No favors or strings attached.”

Rick looked off into the distance. “Okay, I can respect your wishes. Just trying to help a friend.”

I ran a hand through my hair and brushed a stray piece off my face.

“Hey,” Rick squinted and moved to the right. “How’s the bruise? Let me see.” He eased in closer until I could smell the wine on his breath. His lips were inches from mine.

Too close.

I pushed him away, hard. I stood up and stepped back, knocking over the wine bottle. Glass shattered and red wine bled into the cement under my shoes.

“No, Rick. I’m married. Happily married,” I insisted, breathless and panicky. “And you should be, too. Are you trying to mess everything up for the both of us?”

“Melissa,” he pleaded.

“This isn’t right,” I said. “Forget I was up here. As far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”

“Let me explain.” Rick pleaded.

“No, don’t you move!” I choked out, scrambling and unsteady on my feet. Step by step, I moved backward to the door, my hand moving along the brick wall to support myself.

I blinked again. In all fairness, and much to my shock, Rick wasn’t acting like a predator. The opposite, in fact. He didn’t come after me.

Which means I’m not a victim. Candace warned that I needed to be careful. I let this happen. I saw it coming. I played right into it.

My hand reached the door. I whirled around and pushed the handle down hard with the fist holding the locket. It didn’t budge. A surge of fear shot through to my toes. I wrenched at the lever again and pushed it down with all of my might. Metal scraped on metal as the door heaved open.

Down the stairs, two at a time. The echo turned into a ticker tape of guilt. And anger. More steps. The elevator. Press the button, I instructed myself. The double doors opened. I stepped inside, listening for Rick’s footsteps.

Nothing.

The doors shut behind me. Finally, the elevator started to move.

I managed to ignore Rick the rest of the evening. My guilt mounted as high as Mount Everest, its mass resting on my back like a cast iron weight.

I was furious. I’d let myself walk into whatever Rick had planned. I had been beaten up by a crazy women, I was vulnerable, upset, and not in my right state of mind. The excuses sounded valid, but I should have known better. All of the warning signs were there.

Tonight had ruined our friendship. Maybe everything. My relationship with Chris was already rocky. And my job wasn’t a sure thing. Would I have to leave the station? I struggled to keep my legs from shaking as I walked to the studio.

On set, next to Rick, a thick mass seemed to grow in my throat, making every word an effort. When I did speak, my voice sounded foreign and stretched. Rick’s cologne made my stomach do flips. I could barely concentrate.

During the first commercial break, when I couldn’t get away from him, Rick begged for forgiveness.

“Don’t.” I said, not even looking in his direction. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“No,” Rick leaned an inch in my direction. “Not until you let me explain. You’ve got it all wrong.”

I locked my fingers under the desk and squeezed them hard to calm down. “This isn’t the time or the place,” I whispered. Surely, he knew that Joe and everyone else in the control room could hear us if the right switch was flipped.

Rick sat back in his chair and heaved a sigh. “You’re right.”

There wasn’t ever going to be a “right” time or place, though. Talking about it would validate that
something
happened.

I wanted to cry. Joe cued the last commercial before we went back on air. Thirty seconds.

So, what did I need to do?

Breathe and get through the newscast, first of all. Get a game plan together. Then, talk to Rick on my own terms, not here where the rest of the station employees could hear the gory details.

I took a deep breath and tried to smile. We dove into the newscast, taking turns reading stories. Weather, then sports. Three minutes of commercials, one last story, and we were finished.

To my surprise, Rick was up and gone before the last credits rolled. Our cameraman watched with raised eyebrows. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders and a wave at me, he left me alone in the studio.

He was probably headed for the control room. Gosh. It seemed like ages since I’d been back there. I followed what I thought was a few steps behind.

“Hey, everybody,” I called out and walked in the door. I poked my head around the corner, searching for familiar faces.

Joe looked up from his stack of scripts, his expression blank. “Hey, stranger.”

The greeting hit me like a splash of icy cold water.
Stranger.
Okay, I could play along.

“Did you see where Rick ran off to?”

“Nope,” Joe answered. One word. Not good.

“How are things? Do you miss me?” I tried to tease and walked a little closer.

“Everything’s just fine,” Joe replied abruptly. He stood up and gathered his papers. “Was there anything wrong with the show?”

“N-not at all.” The words stumbled out as I tried to read his face. “I didn’t come back to talk about the newscast. Just to look for Rick. And to say hello. It’s been a while.”

Some of the other guys walked past with murmured greetings. Where was the backslapping and jokes? Gosh, what happened in the last few weeks?

The rest of the group shuffled out. Joe and I were the only ones left. The two of us, and a huge, awkward silence.

I thought hard for something else to say and came up empty. “So. How’s it going with you?”

Joe raised a bushy eyebrow, gave me a suspicious look, and glanced at the back door. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he didn’t want to answer. Joe stared at the floor. Gosh, what was with everyone? Did I have three heads all of a sudden? Or the plague?

“I said everything’s fine,” Joe answered reluctantly, shifting to grab his bag from the floor. “Look, Melissa, I gotta run.”

“Joe…” I grasped for a reason to keep him there. I tried again. “Um, don’t you have any pointers for me? Ways to improve?” I cocked my head and smiled my biggest smile. “Y’know, help me out here?”

Joe clutched at his jacket and looked down. After a moment, he raised his head. “Does it matter what I think? Because it sure doesn’t seem like it.”

I swallowed hard and blinked. “I’m sorry. What…?”

Joe shook his head.

Was I an outsider now? Like it or not, an imaginary dividing line existed between on-air “talent” and the technical staff. I had crossed it. Melissa Moore had gone from good old pal to stuck up gal. At least they thought so.

My heart started racing. “I’m
not
like them,” I pleaded. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. And the guys.”

Joe narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll do better,” I promised. “I won’t be another pain-in-the-neck princess.” I held up my hand and crossed my fingers. “Honest. I’ve just had a lot to deal with. Pressure here, stress at home. My mother, and you know how demanding Mother can be. The next thing I know, she’ll be calling me Shirley Temple or Miss Scarlett O’Hara.”

That made him chuckle.

Hands on my hips, I lowered my head. “Shoot. I’ve really been wrapped up in this newsroom drama, haven’t I? I’m sorry.”

Joe rubbed at his beard thoughtfully. Then he stopped and shook his head. “That’s all I wanted to hear. I thought we’d lost the real you.”

I exhaled and let my shoulders droop.

He winked solemnly. “Have to keep you honest.”

“Thanks,” I said softly.

Joe walked away, then paused and turned in the doorway. The look on his face was friendly again. He smiled, amused at our little exchange.

I raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“You’re doing just fine with the anchoring,” Joe nodded and winked. “Just keep being you.”