"No, you're not a fool. But you're trying to salvage something that isn't worth saving, Whitney. Goodnight."
So, Angeline Hemming told you to dump my ass, did she? Alex was tired, and now he was agitated as hell. Who does this bitch think she is, giving advice on situations she knows nothing about? Not that he was upset that things were over with insidious Whitney, but he'd be damned if he'd be painted as the villain in the whole thing.
It was after eleven by the time Alex walked into his apartment, and he tossed his suit jacket and laptop on the dark brown leather sectional. It sat opposite the large windows that composed the North and East walls of the room; one of them was fitted with a sliding glass door that led onto the balcony of his 23rd floor penthouse. He grabbed the remote and pulled his shirt free of his slacks as he flipped on CNN then walked to his well-stocked bar. He pulled down a glass from the cabinet and poured some scotch, downed it, and filled it again before he went in search of Darian's little gift.
He found an envelope on the dining room table labeled KKIS FM 105.4. The building concierge was instructed to put his mail inside the apartment whenever he was traveling, and the large, white envelope easily stood out from the smaller ones.
He took it, with his scotch, and wandered back into the living room, sinking down into the luxurious couch cushions. He took a swallow and then ripped the end of the envelope open; anxious to be able to call Darian and tell him he was full of shit.
His full lips lifted in a mocking smile as he pulled the photos from the confines of the envelope and he was left looking at a black and white photo of a woman's face, but only the lower half of it, her full lips pursed and her finger vertical against them in a shushing motion. The long dark hair was draping down on either side of her smooth face fell in full, silken waves, with a perfect nose and high cheekbones accenting the flawlessness of her skin. The photo was cropped at the top of her cheeks and Alex found himself feeling very cheated that he didn't get to see the rest. Her skin was flawless and those amazing lips begged to be kissed. Darian had succeeded. His interest was piqued and he definitely wanted to know more about this woman. Air left his lungs in an irritated rush, pissed that he'd fallen for it so easily.
The only color on the photo were her lips, the nail polish, and the lettering, Angel After Dark, Fridays ten PM- two AM, KKIS FM 104.5 and the scrawled slogan below it, What's your Midnight Confession? All in blood red.
"Hmphhh." He expelled his breath and carelessly tossed the photo on the coffee table. Alex frowned, just as upset with himself for being sucked in as he was with his friend for setting him up.
Screw Darian, he thought.
This gave barely a glance of what she really looked like, and Alex was still skeptical that it was even her.
"Pfffttt…" he muttered and then pulled out his phone and quickly banged out a text to his friend, never intending to tell Darian he actually liked the hints of what he saw in the promo piece.
D- Was this shit was supposed to get my dick hard? Seriously?
In thirty seconds ,his phone vibrated in his hand as he walked into his bedroom, intent on a hot shower. He laughed aloud at the message.
Those are VERY luscious lips, asswipe. You should see what they're connected to!
Alex was still smirking when his thumbs hammered out his response.
It's probably not even HER. If you wanted me to squirm, you should have included a real picture, dickhead.
Darian quickly replied.
Just turn on the fucking radio, Alex. Listen and then we'll talk.
Alex threw his phone on the bed, wandered into the bathroom, and flipped on the radio built into the marble wall, reluctantly tuning to Darian's station. This was a very masculine room, just like the rest of his apartment, done in neutrals and darker tones, but warm and comfortable. The bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of the place with a large, glass-enclosed walk-in shower with nine shower heads, eight of them in the walls and all adjustable, a large sunken whirlpool bathtub, which had never been used, track lighting, and gleaming, deep brown marble everywhere. The fixtures were a burnished gold rather than silver and the porcelain, a rich cream.
He shed his clothes and left them where they landed on the floor as he turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature. The music from the radio filled the room, and he wondered if he had the right station. The acoustics in the room were incredible, and sound would fill the space even with the water running.
Alex didn't recognize the song but soon a couple of commercials played, and he was well into shampooing his hair and letting the hot water take away the strain of the day before the talk show came back on air.
"This is Dr. Angeline Hemming with you After Dark on KKIS FM 104.5. How can I help you tonight?"
Alex paused at the sound of the soft and soothing voice echoing around him. Definitely sexy and not what he'd allowed himself to expect considering the original image he'd created. The voice did fit his friend's photo much better than the unresponsive librarian-type he'd conjured in his own mind. He smiled slightly and turned into the spray to rinse his hair until it was squeaky-clean.
She could still be seriously unattractive, even with the smoking hot voice, he reminded himself. He’d had a friend in college who was a DJ at the college radio station and he’d hung out with him a couple of times. It’d been his experience that most radio talent were in radio, and not TV, for a reason. If he were honest, that voice stirred something deep down inside that made him want to hear it again, even if he was still arguing with himself. "Probably a hag and a nag," he muttered under his breath.
He grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower and started to rub his hair dry.
"Dr. Hemming?"
"Yes, What’s your name?"
Again, that sultry voice prickled the skin at the back of his neck. Alex threw the towel aside and ran his hands through his hair, trying to remove the unfamiliar feeling, and deciding that it definitely needed to be cut within the next week. Mental note: ask Mrs. Dane to make an appointment for the barber to come to the office—soon.
"What’s your situation?"
"I'm Mary. I've been with the same guy for more than five years, and we still aren't even engaged!" The other girl had a mousy little voice that Alex strained to hear as he moved around his room pulling on a pair of black silk boxers. He lay down on his bed and propped himself up on four pillows, resting the cold glass on his hard stomach. God, he was exhausted, mentally and physically.
His phone buzzed beside him, and he glanced at it briefly. Whitney again. Christ! He put it on silent mode and tossed it on the bed.
"Hmmm… well, have the two of you actually talked about it? Did he ever mention marriage, Mary?" Alex perked up at the response.
Bingo. The guy never fucking said it.
Maybe she was going to be logical and realize that women assumed too damn much. Intriguing. A logical woman in a sea of emotional goo. Suddenly, he found himself hoping that was really Angeline Hemming in those photos he'd left in the other room.
"Well, yes. I mean we talk about things like what we'll name our kids, so that means…” Mary's voice dropped off in uncertainty. "Doesn't it?"
Dr. Hemming sighed. "Not exactly. Mary, that's the problem. Most men are literal in what they say unless it's in the heat of passion. If he hasn't proposed, gotten you a ring, or come right out and said he wanted to marry you in a lucid moment, then no, I wouldn't assume anything." She sighed in exasperation. "However, it irritates me that he would discuss children. That's ignorant. He had to know how you'd interpret that."
"But—" the caller began and she was cut short.
"There really are no buts, Mary. Have you asked him?"
"Are you suggesting I give him an ultimatum?"
Alex swallowed the last of the scotch and set the glass aside as he listened. His lips thinned to a firm line and his eyes narrowed. Here we go, he thought. Here is the meat of it. She'll probably tell this woman to corner the poor bastard.
> "No, Mary. That would never work long-term. He might marry you because he wouldn't want to lose you, but later, if there were problems, he might blame you and accuse you of forcing the issue. He'll say he felt trapped. That is not in your best interest, is it?"
There was silence from the caller so Angel continued. Angel. Alex ran the word over in his mind again as he realized she was turning into a real person; an elusive woman with full lips, high cheekbones, and the sexiest damn voice he'd ever heard. So oozing, it was like honey covering him in a warm, molten layer. If she was intelligent, savvy, and beautiful, it was definitely a lethal combination and not a one that came together readily.
"Mary, are you still with me?"
"Yes, Dr. Hemming. It's just not what I was hoping you would say."
"I'm afraid that's the downside of this gig. I don't get to say what you want to hear. I tell you the hard truth."
"So, what should I do?"
"You need to figure out how to take care of yourself first. Your boyfriend does have choices, but only those you give him." Alex sat up abruptly and pulled his knees up to rest his elbows on both knees. Holy shit!
"What do you mean?" the girl asked hesitantly.
"You can choose to let him continue along this path of least resistance, or you can alter the course, Mary. Tell him that it's clear that the two of you want different things, and that you're going to go out and get what you want. He'll ask you what that is if he hasn't before, giving you the opportunity to tell him. Not because you're nagging, but because he asked. He will have the ball in his court. He gives you what you need, or he risks losing you. Then, even though it boils down to basically the same thing as an ultimatum, you'll be relating to him in ways he'll respect and understand. The thing is, Mary, he'll think that it's his choice, so he'll own the decision. Do you understand what I’m telling you?" Her voice was so assured, and she was completely right. Completely right.
Alex was stunned. "Fucking hell," he said softly into the dark.
Mary chuckled softly over the radio. "I think so. That's amazing. You're amazing."
Alex's phone buzzed on the bed next to him, but this time it was a text from Darian, and Alex smirked as he read it.
Is your dick hard NOW?
"Hmmph!" That smug asshole. Alex chuckled.
"Thank you. I hope this helped. Just stay calm when you talk to him. And, be prepared to follow through. If he won't commit, walk." Angel's voice was sure and steady, but still velvety smooth. Alex ran a hand quickly through his damp hair. “If you don’t, he’ll never step up.”
"Thank you, Dr. Hemming. I will. I feel so much stronger after talking with you! I guess men can be like children. You have to stick to your guns or they never learn, right?" She giggled.
Dr. Hemming responded with a low chuckle that shot right through Alex's body and into his cock. What was it about that voice?
"Mmmm. You said it, I didn't. We have to take a short break, and then I'll take another call. Stay with us. This is Angel After Dark on KKIS FM." Alex could hear the smile behind her words ,and he pictured those red lips on the poster in the other room. He texted a response to his friend.
Like steel. You are such a motherfucker!
Don't want to say I told you so... but... I told you so.
Yeah, yeah. Give it a rest or I'll come over there and beat your sorry ass. LOL!
While the commercials played, Alex went into the other room, refilled his drink, and paused to look out at the city lights before walking over and picking up the picture. He fought with himself for a minute or two until he went back to the bedroom and grabbed his phone. Probably not the smartest decision he'd ever made, but he wanted to speak to this woman, now silently hoping that incredible voice was truly spilling out of that gorgeous mouth on the poster. His fingers lightly outlined the image. Would she be as responsive as she looked? As delicious as she sounded? His cock hardened at the thought, and he tugged at the front of his boxer briefs in protest, unbelieving that he’d be so affected without so much as a glance at her.
Someone called in with some sappy dedication, and while the song played, Alex wrote down the number that Angel had announced before the music began. He was nervous for some inexplicable reason that he couldn't put his finger on, and it pissed him off, but not enough to change his mind. He never got nervous. Especially when it came to women, and never due to one that he hadn't even laid eyes on. At this point, he didn't know what he was doing or what he was trying to accomplish, he only knew that he wanted to learn more.
Darian is clearly into her, so it makes no sense that he’s taunting me like this. He though as he dialed the number. One thing Alex was sure of, if he was interested after speaking to her, he wouldn't be letting Darian's sensibilities interfere with getting what he wanted, friend or not. He should have kept his damned mouth shut.
"KKIS, you're calling Angel After Dark. What is your comment?" A younger, less sultry voice asked the question and Alex hesitated.
"Are you Dr. Hemming?" he asked.
"No, sir. I’m Chris, her assistant. I screen the calls and decide which ones to put through to Angel. Will you tell me what you're calling about, please?"
Angel. There was that name again. He wondered what her voice would sound like saying his own.
"Sure. I want to give her some perspective on a caller from last week. I'm the other half of the situation, and I wondered if her response would be different if she had both sides of the story. She told my girlfriend to dump me."
"Really? Yes, I’m sure she'll want this call. You'll need to turn down your radio or the feedback will hurt everyone's ears. Please hold."
"Line 2, Angel." Christina's voice flowed through the intercom on the other side of the glass and Angel glanced at her. She was fanning her face with her hand in mock drama. "This guy sounds hot."
Angel huffed, thinking about the half a dozen DJs at this station who had amazing voices along with pot guts and thinning hair. At least it was a man. This will be a nice change of pace.
"He said he was the other half of a call you had last week. Should be interesting."
"What's his name?"
"He wouldn't say. He said his name wasn't important."
The commercial break ended and she leaned forward to click the appropriate icons needed on her computer screen.
* * *
Alex quickly did as the young woman asked, and turned down the volume, just as the line was picked up.
"Hello, this is Angeline. Do you have a confession?"
"You could say that..."
Angel's back stiffened at the sound of the caller's voice. Something in the silky tone told her to be on guard, and her eyes shot to the other side of the desk where Darian was seated. Something flashed across his face that she couldn't read, and he tossed the cell phone he'd been using to text down on top of the desk. Angel bristled in her seat and picked up a pen, nervously tapping it on the legal pad in front of her.
"Yes, and what is your name?"
"Names don’t matter. I liked your response to the last caller. It was... unexpected."
"Yes, well, I'm glad you were entertained. Christina tells me that you are party to a previous call?"
"Mmmm, yes," he said smoothly, but not exactly giving anything away. Jesus, his voice was amazing and Christina was all grins on the other side of the glass, mouthing I told you so and wagging her eyebrows up and down for emphasis.
Angel's own eyebrows shot up at the other girl, and a small smile graced her bowed mouth. Darian was frozen in place, one arm crossed over his chest supporting the other, which left that hand to support his jaw. He was all dressed up, and Angel was surprised he was even at the station this late. She knew what she was doing and didn't need him to babysit during the show anymore.
"Well? Are you going to tell me?" Her tone held the slightest bit of annoyance, and the man on the other end laughed softly. He was enjoying making her work for it.
"She called and told you that I was, let me see... sel
fish and made her feel, I think the word was, invisible."
Angel sat back in her chair and adjusted the microphone attached to her headset. No wonder Darian was acting like a scorpion crawled up his ass.
"Ah, yes. Whitney, right?"
"Good memory."
"And I take it that you don't agree with her assumption, right, Alex?"
There was silence for three seconds, and Angel smiled in satisfaction, realizing it meant he caught that she knew the name he didn’t want to share. Darian was watching intently and he shook his head slightly, but Angel wasn't sure why and she wasn't in a position to ask him.
"Good memory, but no. Our relationship wasn't like that. Not even from the start. She mislead you, I'm afraid, Miss Hemming, so your advice to dump my ass was hardly warranted," he said calmly. A little too calmly. Apparently, Whitney told the truth when she said he didn’t care about her.
"Mmmm, it's Doctor Hemming, but you can call me Angel. I don't remember telling her to dump your ah... you, at all. I told her to talk to you."
"Whatever you said, the effect was the same. It hardly matters since it was already over as far as I was concerned. In effect, you did me a favor. She's still calling me, begging, by the way."
Angel rolled her eyes in disdain at the caller’s smugness and Darian's face split into a brilliant smile, his white teeth flashing brightly in the dark room. A likely story. "So, if it wasn't like that, then what was it like? From your perspective, I mean?"
"Mutual convenience, nothing more," he answered shortly. "I'm a very busy man, and I don't have time for romance. She wanted someone to pay the bills, and I wanted safe sex on a regular basis, so it worked well for all concerned."
"It sounds very cold and business-like, Alex. Whitney didn't share that opinion, as you know. Do you see how she may have felt like a kept woman?"