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Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder
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to act professional. Her first canning. She'd only made it two months.
Make them say it , she thought, though her motor mouth wanted to make excuses or beg for another chance or just say thanks for the memories and lead her body out the door.
She waited.
"You're fine," Stevie said, holding a hand up in her direction. "Don't get me wrong, you still have a rapport with the listeners. But the last couple of weeks haven't lived up to the expectations the listeners have developed since the show started."
68
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie Damschroder
"What expectations?" The only thing different was that they interwove the rant and rave.
Stevie started to speak, but Melina stopped him with a hand on his arm. She leaned forward. "There is a spice that has been lost. We think we know how to get it back. But for it to work, it must be done on the air. We just didn't want to blindside you."
"What, another puppy?" Sophie threw her hands in the air.
"Maybe we should just have a 'Surprise Sophie' feature every month." She stood. "Is that all? Until the big surprise? Can I go get ready for my show now?"
They nodded. The station manager remained as stone-faced as he'd been since the meeting started. Heck, since she'd met him. Stevie seemed trepidatious, though that was common for him.
Melina, who held the door for Sophie as she walked out, had the look of a woman helping her friend get ready for a hot date. Sophie gave her a "what is going on?" glare, and Melina just tilted her head and smiled.
Sheesh. She'd had no idea radio people could be so mysterious.
Luckily, she didn't have long to wait for her surprise.
Halfway through that afternoon's show, the call volume had dropped and Sophie had begun ranting about an article she'd clipped from the paper. A woman had caught a burglar in her kitchen, about to escape through the back door with a television. Weaponless, the woman had grabbed the sprayer from the kitchen sink and sprayed the ceramic tile under the crook's feet. He'd slipped and fallen. She'd called the police.
69
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie Damschroder
The next day he filed suit against her.
"The jerk is suing for half-a-million dollars. Half-a-million dollars , folks. For herniating a disc in his back while breaking the law. Maybe he should have purchased workers'
compensation insurance."
The door opened quietly, but she didn't look up from her article. Stevie often came in to give her announcements or teasers for the hourly news. She was so engrossed in her papers and argument that she didn't notice a pair of hands slipping the extra headphones from their stand, then adjusting the microphone.
"The evil attorney—and I know, that's a redundancy—has been quoted as saying his client was not stealing the television, but relocating it. Relocating it where? Out the door? I swear, our litigious society is due to one thing. Too many lawyers. Remember five or ten years ago they kept saying we had more law students than practicing attorneys?
Well, those students are practicing now, and they don't have any work. They can't make the big bucks they dreamed of in law school. So they find new ways to get it."
She heard the click of the switch that turned on the second microphone and jerked her head up.
"Come on, Sophie, you can't put all the blame on the lawyers. They wouldn't pursue a case they couldn't win. Juries have to have some culpability."
Sophie stared at the man on the other side of the console.
Her surprise was a partner. A foil. Someone to argue coherently when her listeners failed her. It was perfectly clear, and a great solution to the "flatness" of the show.
70
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie Damschroder
She doubted the station had realized just what a surprise they were giving her, though. Satisfaction welled right up there with excitement as he kept talking. She'd been right.
The voice coming over her headphones was Parker.
The man in front of her was Biff Cornwall.
71
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie
Make them say it , she thought, though her motor mouth wanted to make excuses or beg for another chance or just say thanks for the memories and lead her body out the door.
She waited.
"You're fine," Stevie said, holding a hand up in her direction. "Don't get me wrong, you still have a rapport with the listeners. But the last couple of weeks haven't lived up to the expectations the listeners have developed since the show started."
68
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie Damschroder
"What expectations?" The only thing different was that they interwove the rant and rave.
Stevie started to speak, but Melina stopped him with a hand on his arm. She leaned forward. "There is a spice that has been lost. We think we know how to get it back. But for it to work, it must be done on the air. We just didn't want to blindside you."
"What, another puppy?" Sophie threw her hands in the air.
"Maybe we should just have a 'Surprise Sophie' feature every month." She stood. "Is that all? Until the big surprise? Can I go get ready for my show now?"
They nodded. The station manager remained as stone-faced as he'd been since the meeting started. Heck, since she'd met him. Stevie seemed trepidatious, though that was common for him.
Melina, who held the door for Sophie as she walked out, had the look of a woman helping her friend get ready for a hot date. Sophie gave her a "what is going on?" glare, and Melina just tilted her head and smiled.
Sheesh. She'd had no idea radio people could be so mysterious.
Luckily, she didn't have long to wait for her surprise.
Halfway through that afternoon's show, the call volume had dropped and Sophie had begun ranting about an article she'd clipped from the paper. A woman had caught a burglar in her kitchen, about to escape through the back door with a television. Weaponless, the woman had grabbed the sprayer from the kitchen sink and sprayed the ceramic tile under the crook's feet. He'd slipped and fallen. She'd called the police.
69
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie Damschroder
The next day he filed suit against her.
"The jerk is suing for half-a-million dollars. Half-a-million dollars , folks. For herniating a disc in his back while breaking the law. Maybe he should have purchased workers'
compensation insurance."
The door opened quietly, but she didn't look up from her article. Stevie often came in to give her announcements or teasers for the hourly news. She was so engrossed in her papers and argument that she didn't notice a pair of hands slipping the extra headphones from their stand, then adjusting the microphone.
"The evil attorney—and I know, that's a redundancy—has been quoted as saying his client was not stealing the television, but relocating it. Relocating it where? Out the door? I swear, our litigious society is due to one thing. Too many lawyers. Remember five or ten years ago they kept saying we had more law students than practicing attorneys?
Well, those students are practicing now, and they don't have any work. They can't make the big bucks they dreamed of in law school. So they find new ways to get it."
She heard the click of the switch that turned on the second microphone and jerked her head up.
"Come on, Sophie, you can't put all the blame on the lawyers. They wouldn't pursue a case they couldn't win. Juries have to have some culpability."
Sophie stared at the man on the other side of the console.
Her surprise was a partner. A foil. Someone to argue coherently when her listeners failed her. It was perfectly clear, and a great solution to the "flatness" of the show.
70
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie Damschroder
She doubted the station had realized just what a surprise they were giving her, though. Satisfaction welled right up there with excitement as he kept talking. She'd been right.
The voice coming over her headphones was Parker.
The man in front of her was Biff Cornwall.
71
Sophie's Playboy
by Natalie
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