Read Online Promises in the Night: A Classic Romance - Book 2 by Barbara Bretton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Bretton
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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lasagna and wine with Alex Jakobs.
Right now, however, now that she was moments away from seeing him again, it was no contest. The winner was Alex Jakobs, hands down.
----
I nside the studio Alex was having difficulty keeping his mind on the matter at hand. Every time he heard the studio door creak open, his eyes automatically turned to see if Larkin had finally shown up.
They had finished taping one segment of his show and were now moving into a live segment, something they had attempted only a couple of times before. Sal, the sound man, was explaining the different signals they’d be using on the phone feed and Alex was finding it very difficult to grasp much of what the man was saying.
“And if anyone seems to be getting a little too weird, you just give me this sign and I’ll hit it.” Sal shrugged and looked at Alex. “Any questions?”
Yes. Where is she? Instead of speaking Alex merely shook his head. “Everything seems to be in order, Sal.” He straightened his tie and smoothed the lapels on his dark suit. “By the way, how was the poker game last week?”
“Lethal,” Sal said; “We murdered Larry before the sandwiches even arrived. You should’ve been there, Doc. It was a massacre.”
“Maybe next time.” Alex glanced at the clock. 7:57 P.M. Still no sign of the elusive Larkin Walker. The studio was empty except for the crew, and Alex wondered how in hell he was going to muster enthusiasm for another show—live, no less—when he felt as if he’d used up his daily quota of sound advice.
“Sixty seconds to air time… thirty seconds...ten... nine...”
Alex cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and composed his thoughts. The theme song filled the studio while the opening credits rolled. The director was crouched down next to the camera, ready to give Alex his cue to open the show. Just as Marty was about to give the sign, the door creaked open and there stood Larkin Walker, looking lovelier than Alex had imagined—even in his more detailed daydreams.
The pre-taped announcement said, “And here is your host, Dr. Alex Jakobs.” Marty pointed at Alex to begin.
From across the studio Larkin smiled at him. He looked into the camera and smiled back.
“Welcome to Helpline,” he said, “I’m glad you could join me tonight.” Very glad.
----
L arkin felt ridiculous standing there with her raincoat slung over one arm, staring at a mass of wires and equipment scattered all over the cavernous studio and wondering where on earth she was supposed to sit for the next hour or so until the show was over. Finally a wizened old man she could only assume was a stagehand took pity on her and pointed out a straight-backed chair off in the corner.
Larkin turned her attention to Alex, who was talking with one of the forty million Americans who had a weight problem. His advice was practical, realistic—certain to be of some help to the caller, but the spark of electricity she had been expecting was conspicuously absent.
So maybe fighting flab wasn’t his strong suit. She waited while he went on to the next call.
“This is Dr. Jakobs. You’re on Helpline. What’s your problem?”
“Hi, Dr. Jakobs. This is Marie from West Islip.”
“What can I do for you, Marie?”
“I lost my job three months ago and I haven’t been able to find another.”
Larkin shifted in her seat and suppressed a smile. Marie, do I ever have a course for you!
Alex leaned forward, his dark grey eyes focused intently on the camera aimed at him. “Have you been looking for work, Marie?”
“What do you mean, have I been looking?” Larkin didn’t blame Marie for sounding upset. She would have hung up on him for that remark. “Why would I call you if I haven’t been looking? No one wants a fifty-seven-year-old unemployed waitress, Doctor, and that’s the truth.”
“How did you lose your job, Marie?”
The woman launched into a story about new owners and tight money. Marie and her plight certainly had
Right now, however, now that she was moments away from seeing him again, it was no contest. The winner was Alex Jakobs, hands down.
----
I nside the studio Alex was having difficulty keeping his mind on the matter at hand. Every time he heard the studio door creak open, his eyes automatically turned to see if Larkin had finally shown up.
They had finished taping one segment of his show and were now moving into a live segment, something they had attempted only a couple of times before. Sal, the sound man, was explaining the different signals they’d be using on the phone feed and Alex was finding it very difficult to grasp much of what the man was saying.
“And if anyone seems to be getting a little too weird, you just give me this sign and I’ll hit it.” Sal shrugged and looked at Alex. “Any questions?”
Yes. Where is she? Instead of speaking Alex merely shook his head. “Everything seems to be in order, Sal.” He straightened his tie and smoothed the lapels on his dark suit. “By the way, how was the poker game last week?”
“Lethal,” Sal said; “We murdered Larry before the sandwiches even arrived. You should’ve been there, Doc. It was a massacre.”
“Maybe next time.” Alex glanced at the clock. 7:57 P.M. Still no sign of the elusive Larkin Walker. The studio was empty except for the crew, and Alex wondered how in hell he was going to muster enthusiasm for another show—live, no less—when he felt as if he’d used up his daily quota of sound advice.
“Sixty seconds to air time… thirty seconds...ten... nine...”
Alex cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and composed his thoughts. The theme song filled the studio while the opening credits rolled. The director was crouched down next to the camera, ready to give Alex his cue to open the show. Just as Marty was about to give the sign, the door creaked open and there stood Larkin Walker, looking lovelier than Alex had imagined—even in his more detailed daydreams.
The pre-taped announcement said, “And here is your host, Dr. Alex Jakobs.” Marty pointed at Alex to begin.
From across the studio Larkin smiled at him. He looked into the camera and smiled back.
“Welcome to Helpline,” he said, “I’m glad you could join me tonight.” Very glad.
----
L arkin felt ridiculous standing there with her raincoat slung over one arm, staring at a mass of wires and equipment scattered all over the cavernous studio and wondering where on earth she was supposed to sit for the next hour or so until the show was over. Finally a wizened old man she could only assume was a stagehand took pity on her and pointed out a straight-backed chair off in the corner.
Larkin turned her attention to Alex, who was talking with one of the forty million Americans who had a weight problem. His advice was practical, realistic—certain to be of some help to the caller, but the spark of electricity she had been expecting was conspicuously absent.
So maybe fighting flab wasn’t his strong suit. She waited while he went on to the next call.
“This is Dr. Jakobs. You’re on Helpline. What’s your problem?”
“Hi, Dr. Jakobs. This is Marie from West Islip.”
“What can I do for you, Marie?”
“I lost my job three months ago and I haven’t been able to find another.”
Larkin shifted in her seat and suppressed a smile. Marie, do I ever have a course for you!
Alex leaned forward, his dark grey eyes focused intently on the camera aimed at him. “Have you been looking for work, Marie?”
“What do you mean, have I been looking?” Larkin didn’t blame Marie for sounding upset. She would have hung up on him for that remark. “Why would I call you if I haven’t been looking? No one wants a fifty-seven-year-old unemployed waitress, Doctor, and that’s the truth.”
“How did you lose your job, Marie?”
The woman launched into a story about new owners and tight money. Marie and her plight certainly had
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