Whispers in the Dark. Kira Sinclair
That’s a long time. I want a husband and kids. At the rate I’m going I’ll be fifty before I have sex again.” Another desperate sound echoed across the line and twanged the nerves at the bottom of his spine. “I don’t think I could handle that.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’ll have sex when you’re ready. I have to ask—” although something told him he’d be better off if he didn’t “—what makes you think you’d be any different with me?”
“I honestly didn’t mean to say that. But I’ve been listening to your show for a long time and it’s obvious you know what you’re talking about. Maybe that’s what I need, a man who really understands how to give a woman pleasure. Who knows how to ignore the fear.”
Chris shifted in his seat, completely surprised that the quivery little dip in her voice there at the end had caught his attention.
“You should never ignore the fear, Katy. Listen to your body, it knows what you can handle.”
Chris paused, leaning in closer to the mike. He really wanted to help this woman, but he couldn’t, not without risking everything he’d built. His show walked a line between offering professional-sounding advice and providing an opinion. Chris tried hard to stay far away from that line. One toe over could cost him everything. One lawsuit because he’d said the wrong thing to the wrong person…Katy was just too close to that edge for comfort.
“I know you understand I can’t sleep with you, but please find another therapist. Maybe this time his or her suggestions will work. The fact you were willing to call into the show tells me how important this is for you and how much you’re willing to risk to get what you want. You don’t need me. You need to trust yourself. Find a nice man who’ll understand and go slowly with you. If you need the number of a therapist, stay on the line, and I’ll get the information for you.”
“Thank you.”
He’d expected her voice to waver or maybe crack with disappointment. It didn’t. In fact, she seemed almost, well, relieved.
“ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? I made a complete ass of myself in front of half the south.”
“Sure you did…Katy.” Anne winked before hobbling to the kitchen and coming back with a half-empty bottle of butterscotch schnapps. “No one but me knows that was you on the radio.”
“And it better stay that way.”
Anne smiled. “Of course.”
Karyn fought the urge to say something snide to wipe the expression off her face. Her friend hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d been the idiot who’d called and blurted out a request for sex.
“You know, I never would have said that if you hadn’t been pounding at me about how perfect he would be as my sex stud.”
Pouring another drink, Anne looked over the edge of her glass. “I think you said exactly what you wanted to. Not that it matters.”
“Oh, it matters.”
“Besides, I happen to agree with him.”
“What? You’re the one who told me to sleep with him—”
“Not about that. I think you need to find a man, Karyn. One who understands what you’ve gone through. One who’ll go slow and take things one step at a time.”
Karyn paced to her bookshelf and back. Realizing she still held the phone in her hand, she tossed it away in disgust. What? Did they all think she was stupid? Of course that was what she needed.
“Absolutely. And a guy like that isn’t hard to find. Because telling a man on the first date that there won’t be any sex in his foreseeable future due to the fact that I’m a rape survivor really turns men on.”
“So, don’t tell him.”
Turning to her friend, Karyn cocked her head to the side and stared. “You’re the one who said I need to find a man who understands. Kinda hard to do if I don’t tell him.”
“So, just not on the first date.”
Karyn sank down onto the couch. Tears of frustration pricked the backs of her eyes. “That doesn’t work either because then I spend the entire night worrying about what he expects and how I’ll handle it.”
“Fine, be miserable.” Anne slipped down beside her on the edge of the sofa and wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders. “But nothing’s going to change, Karyn, until you take a chance.”
2
“WE HAVE TO DO something.”
Chris’s voice echoed against the impersonal walls of the station conference room. He sat in the padded seat to Michael’s right and looked across at the two gentlemen he’d asked to join them, the station manager and their attorney.
“We agree. The entire show was dominated by calls about Katy for the third day in a row. Even though your ratings are up this can’t continue. If we take no action there will be a backlash against the show eventually. Your listeners want and expect you to do something.”
“Something we all know I can’t do.” Chris leaned over the gleaming surface of the conference table and studied the two men opposite him. To him they resembled aging bulldogs with their sagging faces. They walked around, their mouths pulled down into perpetual frowns as if their every decision affected the balance of the world.
Only, today their decisions affected him.
He hadn’t felt this out of control in years. Yes, he had money, fast cars and a house he owned outright and had remodeled with his own two hands. But it was his show that was his security and stability. And at the moment, that security felt more like a smoke screen than something solid. If the show ended, he had nothing to fall back on. The Dr. Desire gig had landed in his lap. That kind of miracle wasn’t likely to happen twice.
Which was why he normally kept a tight rein on his life and his show. But sometime in the past two days he’d lost that control. With or without the agreement of the men before him, he’d do whatever he needed to get it back. Chris never again wanted to experience the sickening sense of helplessness he had at sixteen when he and his mother had been evicted. One random, unfair event—her illness and inability to work—had cost them everything.
He would never be that vulnerable, that dependant, again.
Michael chimed in. “The listeners will eventually become less concerned and more forceful. And while I normally wouldn’t worry, we’ve just moved into several major markets. If our ratings begin to slip we’re liable to lose them as fast as we gained them.”
Chris’s stomach clenched for one brief moment at the thought before he pushed it away. That wasn’t going to happen. “Michael is right. We need to do something, but I’ll be damned if I know what. I obviously can’t have sex with her.”
The attorney’s face flushed hot before returning to its regular mottled red. “Absolutely not. In fact, I’d advise against it.”
“What if I took her out to dinner? A nice, impersonal meal. She said she hadn’t been on a date in a while. That would help in one area without moving us into dangerous territory.”
Three sets of eyebrows shot straight up, but he watched as they all rolled the thought around and considered.
“It might work.” Michael spoke first, his enthusiasm for the idea gaining ground. “It would be a chance for her to meet you face-to-face, you could charm her, give her a T-shirt, CD. At the same time it would give us the opportunity to make a statement on air, something to the effect that we’re doing everything we can to help.”
Looking questioningly at Ken, Chris waited.
The attorney spoke slowly, weighing things out as he went. “We’d need to keep the details from your listeners. A simple announcement that you heard their concerns and