Jacqueline Diamond - Paris or Bust!

“Oh, just a few days,” Roxanne said. “We met Saturday morning.”

“Roxanne is a finalist in a contest that WBAM is promoting. I was the one who gave her the good news.”

“A contest?” Kit asked. “What kind of contest?”

“I’ve been nominated by Family Voyager magazine for their ‘Mother of the Year’ contest,” Roxanne said.

“And the prize includes dinner at Fred’s House of Crabs?” Kit asked, trying to cover his embarrassment. She was married and a mother and this was nothing more than a simple business meeting.

“No. A trip to Paris. Your father invited me to dinner and I accepted.”

A long silence fell over the table. “So, are you involved in radio?” Roxanne asked, glancing at Kit from over the rim of her champagne flute.

Kit chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He dragged his gaze from her face, reminding himself that Roxanne, though attractive, wasn’t available. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

She gave him a shy smile. “Well, I’m divorced and I have four children.”

Kit cursed silently. This did not bode well. His father was already gazing at Roxanne as if she’d hung the moon and the stars. “And what do you do for a living?”

“Actually, I don’t work. I have a little money from my father’s family. It’s hard to work with young children. But I hope to go back to work soon.”

“I was just trying to convince Roxanne to take a job at the station,” Carl said. “We need to increase our demographic with young mothers and I think she could help us. Every talk radio station in the world is chasing the conservative male demographic, but I’m thinking that we’ve found a niche with stay-at-home moms like Roxanne. That’s what we were just talking about.”

“I told Carl it makes sense,” she said.

“I’m sure you did,” Kit replied.

“When I’m taking care of the kids, it’s impossible to watch television. But I would listen to the radio if the programming were interesting. And appropriate for little ears.”

“You’re already starting to think like a radio programmer,” Carl teased.

A blush stained her cheeks. “I’m just telling you what I know about being a mother, that’s all.” She took another sip of her champagne, then smiled at Kit.

The conversation continued without Kit’s participation. Though she tried to draw him in, he preferred to sit back and watch her in action, to evaluate her motives and to find the best way to counteract her beauty. His father seemed completely captivated, hanging on every word she said, lavishing her with compliments.

When she finished her champagne, she set her napkin on the table and pushed back in her chair. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to call home and check on the kids.”

They both watched her walk out of the dining room. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Carl said.

“What the hell are you thinking? She’s got to be thirty years younger than you.”

“At least,” Carl said. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Are you really that blinded by her beauty? She’s out to snare you, Dad. She knows you have money and she’s moving in for the kill.”

“What?” Carl laughed, clearly taken aback by Kit’s comments.

“Come on, Dad. I see what’s going on here, even if you don’t.”

“You think you do,” he said. “But you’re wrong.”

“You can’t date her.”

He straightened as if suddenly insulted. “I suppose I could do whatever I want. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

Kit threw his napkin down on the table. “If you expect me to approve, then you’re crazy. I’m not going to condone a relationship with a woman who’s young enough to be your daughter.”

“Are you leaving? We haven’t even ordered yet,” Carl said. “The crab here is fantastic. Sit down and stop acting like a spoiled child.”

“I have to go,” Kit said. He strode out of the dining room and turned the corner to the front door. But he wasn’t watching where he was going and ran, full tilt, into Roxanne Perry. She cried out in surprise and Kit grabbed her to keep her from falling backwards.

For a long moment, they stood in the foyer of the restaurant, his hands gripping her bare arms, their gazes locked. God, she was beautiful…and soft. And she smelled really good. No wonder his father found her irresistible.

“Did you need to make a phone call?” she asked. “The pay phones are just out there.”

“I know what you’re up to,” he said, his eyes fixing on her lush mouth.

“Up to? I just needed to check on my kids.”

“Don’t think you’re fooling me. Both you and I know what’s going on here and if you hurt my father, you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Hurt your father? Why would I hurt him?”

Hell, she was good. He actually found himself fooled by that wide-eyed innocent look. So why did he want to yank her into his arms and find out exactly how that pretty mouth tasted. With a soft curse, Kit released her, then stalked toward the door. But an image of her stayed with him, swirling in his head, imprinting on his brain. When he reached his car, he sat down inside, gripping the steering wheel.

This was a great move. A lot of good he could do out here in the parking lot. Kit cursed again. There’d be plenty of time to convince his father against a relationship with Roxanne Perry. And while he was at it, he might take the time to convince himself that Roxanne Perry wasn’t the most beautiful and intriguing woman he’d ever met.

But until then, Kit was going to keep a close eye on her. Sooner or later, she’d show her true colors. And then he’d find a way to get her out of his father’s life for good.

“COMING UP NEXT, we have Roxanne Perry. Roxanne was recently chosen as a finalist for the ‘Mother of the Year’ contest, sponsored by Family Voyager magazine. We’ll be talking about the struggles of raising children alone and we’ll be giving away free subscriptions to Family Voyager. So join us after these messages.”

Roxanne wriggled nervously in her seat, the blinking lights and endless dials of the radio studio adding to her apprehension. She plucked the headphones off her head, ignoring the commercial for Big Bob Martin’s Used Cars. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. “Just because I was nominated, doesn’t mean I’m some shining example.”

Carl sent her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

“I was myself last night and your son wasn’t too thrilled that I’d be on the radio.”

“That was all just a misunderstanding.” Carl glanced up from his notes, a slow and satisfied grin sending a twinkle to his eyes. He leaned over and pressed a button on the board. “See? He’s come here just to listen.”

Roxanne spun around in her chair to find Kit Lawrence standing in the next room, staring at her through a plate glass window, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. Her breath froze and, for a moment, she felt like slipping beneath the console and crawling out of the room. After her dinner with Carl, she’d gone home to a sleepless night, filled with images of a handsome, dark-haired man in a tailored business suit and silk tie-a man who looked a lot like Kit Lawrence.

She wilted under his stare, feeling as if he could read her thoughts. From the moment he’d walked up to their table last night, she’d had trouble keeping her eyes off of him. He had a dangerous air so magnetic and compelling that he made her heart flutter. He’d been the first man since her husband that she’d really looked at. And then, when she had, her pulse began to race and her mind spun.

Her cheeks warmed as she recalled the vivid dream she’d had last night. All morning, she’d tried to convince herself that it was only normal to have sexual fantasies about a man as attractive as Kit. After all, she hadn’t had sex in over two years, and then, it hadn’t been that great in the end anyway. The kids had pretty much exhausted her, so passion usually took a back seat to sleep.

But here was Kit Lawrence, gorgeous, successful and unmarried, the kind of man every woman found attractive. Was it any wonder he’d invaded her fantasies? Yes, he was rude and arrogant and he obviously didn’t think much of her, but in her dreams, he didn’t do a whole lot of talking. Just whispering…and moaning…and- She swallowed hard. “He looks angry. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“This is my radio station,” Carl said, “and my radio show. I can do what I want.”

“But who would want to listen to me?”

“I would. I think your story will resonate with lots of single mothers out there.”

“What story? That I ran over my husband’s designer suits with the lawn mower? Or that I blacked out his face on every wedding photo I had? One night, I even sewed a little voodoo doll and stuck pins in the…well, in the groin area. Those really aren’t very positive messages to send out to the public. And I don’t think that’s going to win me any points in this contest.” She looked over at Kit Lawrence and saw a flicker of amusement cross his face. “Could you ask him to leave? Why is he staring at me like that?”

“He can hear you,” Carl said. “The intercom is picking up our conversation.”

“He can-”

“And he thinks you’re a gold digger,” Carl added, before pushing another button.

Roxanne gasped. “What?” She looked over at Kit and noticed that the smile had faded from his face.

“And we’re back,” Carl said smoothly.

“He thinks I’m a-”

“And on the air,” Carl interrupted. “Joining me in the studio is single mom Roxanne Perry, and today we’re going to discuss the challenges that face single mothers. The phone lines are open. Give us a call.”

The next eight minutes passed in a blur. Roxanne listened to the callers and bumbled through her responses, trying to keep the mood light and positive. To her surprise, she shared many of the same experiences and emotions as the listeners. She’d always felt so alone, but now it was clear that there were a lot of women, young and old, who were dealing with the same problems.

When Carl finally announced a commercial break, she sat back in her chair and drew her first decent breath since the On Air light blinked on. To her relief, Kit no longer stood in the control room. She covered the mike with her hand. “What did you mean, gold digger?”

Carl chuckled. “He’s got some crazy idea that you and I are dating and that I’m about to drag you off to Vegas for a quickie wedding.”

Roxanne blinked. “Dating? A wedding?”

“I guess it’s not that far beyond possibility. A lot of guys my age find younger women attractive. I could never understand it, but now I do. I saw the way the men were looking at me in the restaurant last night. They were thinking what a lucky guy I was to be with someone as pretty as you.”

“But-but it wasn’t a date,” Roxanne said.

“I know that. But my son doesn’t. It’s a nice little ego boost that he thinks I could get a lady like you to go out with an old guy like me. So I let him believe what he wanted.”

“You’re not old,” Roxanne said.

“I’m old enough to know when you’re humoring me. And though you’re a very intelligent and captivating young lady, I’m not sure I could date anyone who doesn’t remember when there was no television, only radio.”

“All right, you’re not that old,” Roxanne said. “But you’re not really interested in dating me, are-”

Carl held up his finger. “We’re back with Roxanne Perry. Let’s take another call.”

The rest of the hour flew by. Roxanne wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime during the show she found herself having fun. She relaxed and began to play off the comments Carl was interjecting into the conversations. He tried to defend the male point of view, and Roxanne and the callers neatly countered his defense. When Carl finally signed off, she wasn’t tired or stressed, she was giddy with exhilaration.

“Congratulations,” Carl said. He reached out and took her hand and gave it a gallant kiss. “You did very well.”

“It felt good,” Roxanne said. “At first, I was so nervous and then I forgot what I was doing and just started talking. It was like talking to my sister on the phone.”

“You’re a natural.” He picked up his papers and straightened them. “I’d like you to do another show. How about next week?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roxanne said. “I’d have to get a sitter again and I’m not sure-”

“I’ll pay you,” Carl said. “The money won’t be great, but it’s more than enough to pay for a sitter. And who knows where this might lead?” He scribbled an address on a scrap of paper. “Why don’t we get together tomorrow night and toss around some ideas. Bring the kids along. I’ve got an indoor pool and I’m sure they’d enjoy swimming. We’ll send out for pizza.”