She sat with her back to the world, watching the grey waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Nearby a wave crashed over a jetty, and, feeling the cold fingers of fate skim lightly over her back, Emma shivered. Someone just walked over your grave Em, she thought, remembering an old superstition but unable to recall its source. It seemed appropriate today.
She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her fleece. It was a cold December day, especially for Florida, but it matched her mood. The wind whipped around her slender frame, and she shivered again, but she refused to leave. If she left, she would have to see him, and that was the last thing she wanted. She carelessly allowed her mind to wander back to when they had met, almost two years ago.
"WFLZ, what can I do for you?" Emma answered the station phone with a smile on her face.
"Can you play a song by the Backstreet Boys?" a child's voice spoke.
"Sure hun. You know they'll be on the show tomorrow morning, right?"
"I know! I'll listen, I promise!"
Emma smiled at the little girl's excitement. "I'll try and get the DJ to play a song for you, ok?" Emma hung up the phone, and turned to grin at her co-worker. "Cough it up Peter. I win!"
She smiled as Peter stuck his tongue out at her and handed her a five-dollar bill. "I told you everyone would call to request Backstreet Boys. You should listen to me. I know these things."
"That's 'cause you're as obsessed as all the callers" Peter retorted.
"So are you, Mr. ‘I love Nick Carter’ fan club president." Emma grinned again, as Peter's hand went to his heart.
"He is cute, isn't he?" Peter sighed.
“And I’m not obsessed” Emma said as the phone rang again. “If they walked in here right this moment, I wouldn’t even know who they were.” Peter nodded and smiled, and Emma stuck out her tongue.
"WFLZ, what can I do for you?" Emma greeted the next caller.
"Always so cheerful, Emma." Emma stuck her finger down her throat and gagged silently so Peter would know who she was talking to. "I have a favor to ask you."
"Sure Bob." Bob Green was the station manager. He tried so hard to be "down" but he never quite got it. He was always complimenting Emma, and at first it was nice, but now it made her uncomfortable. "What's up?"
"Lucy can't make it tomorrow morning," he began. Emma groaned inwardly, and rolled her eyes. She knew what was coming next. Lucy was Bob's niece and a complete ditz. She rarely came to work, and when she did, the DJ's complained that she never did anything. "Can you cover her shift?"
Sighing, Emma shook her head. "I can do it Bob, but it will put me in to overtime." She hoped that would be enough to get him to rescind the offer. Bob hated paying for overtime
"Don't worry about it!" Bob boomed, and Emma’s heart sank. “And don’t worry about your normal shift. I’m sure Peter can handle it alone.” They spoke for a few more minutes, then disconnected.
"Did Bob talk you into working tomorrow morning?" Peter asked with a grin. He knew how much Emma hated mornings.
"Yup. I have to be here at 4am." Emma rested her head on her desk. "So much for going out tonight." She’d had plans with Peter for two weeks, and she hated to break them.
"But you get to meet the Backstreet Boys" Peter exclaimed with glee, not caring that she was breaking their date.
"Joy" Emma said flatly. "They just don't measure up to lost sleep." She groaned again, and Peter laughed evilly. Emma picked up a pen and threw it at him. “The only good news is that I don’t have to work with your sorry butt.” She grinned at his expression, and turned back to her paperwork.
The rest of the day flew by, her schedule change all but forgotten in the chaos of the station, and at 5pm Emma ran outside to greet her roommate, who was waiting for her. "Hey, Mandi!" she said, climbing into her car.
"Hey."
"You let the kids get into the paint again, huh?" Emma laughed at the glare that Mandi shot her across the car. Mandi was a preschool teacher who had a hard time saying no to the kids when they wanted to paint. As a result, she often came home with paint all over her. Today it was the red on her cheek, and the blue in her ear that gave her away. "So, guess what?" she said, changing the subject.
"What?" Mandi asked, pulling onto the street.
"I get to work the morning show tomorrow." Emma waited for the import of her words to sink in. Mandi had been waiting for the show for a month.
"Totally unfair!" Mandi exclaimed, when she realized what she meant.
"They don't need more phone people do they?" she asked hopefully.
Emma laughed, and shook her head. They talked about the show the whole way home, Mandi making her promise to get them to answer whatever question she called in.
The next morning, Emma stumbled up the stairs to the station at 4:30. Rubbing her eyes, she let herself into the production room, and put a pot of coffee on. Fifteen minutes later, the DJ's arrived. They were shocked to find mugs of coffee waiting for them at their microphones, and Emma realized for the first time just how useless Lucy was.
The first two hours of the show went by without a hitch, and at 7, Emma went to wash out a couple of mugs in case the guests wanted coffee. They were due any minute and she wanted to be prepared for any of their requests. Experience had taught her how demanding stars and their egos could be. She had just finished washing the mugs, and was backing out of the ladies room, when she got slammed into from the side. Two of the ceramic cylinders went flying and shattered on the floor.
"Sh*t!" Emma said, forgetting where she was. Shaking her head in annoyance, she knelt down and began to pick them up.
"Nick, can't you go anywhere without running into someone?" a voice asked.
Emma glanced up quickly to see two guys towering over her. Shaking her head again, she went back to picking up the glass. They were cute, but she didn’t have time to drool over their looks.
"I'm sorry..." The blonde one kneeled down and began to help her pick up the shattered glass. Emma smiled without looking at him, and shook her head partially in annoyance, partially in humour. "I'm not usually such a klutz" he continued.
The other guy found this to be extremely funny and laughed hysterically. "Yeah you are, Nicky. Yeah you are.”
Emma looked at the one still standing, trying to figure out where she knew him from, but it wouldn’t click in his mind. She laughed softly, and leaned towards the one called Nick to whisper conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I am too." She grinned and stood up. " I think that's everything. Thanks for your help." Her grin faded as she got a closer look at him. He looks just like…her thought trailed off, and a stab of pain went through her heart.
"No prob" Nick said. He saw her smile fade and a frown creased his brow. “You ok?” he asked. She nodded weakly, not trusting her voice enough to say yes. "Can you do me a favor then?” As Emma nodded again, she had this nagging suspicion that she should know who these guys were. “Can you tell me how to get to Studio One?" Nick asked.
Emma forced a smile, and nodded. ‘Backstreet Boys,’ she thought, mentally smacking herself upside the head. She remembered when the band first came onto the scene how much Nick had looked like her ex-fiance. No wonder he looks familiar. Saying, "Of course. That's where I'm going," she led them down the hall to the studio, and let them in. "Do y'all want some coffee?" she asked.
Just then the door opened and the remaining three piled into the room. "Let me guess,” Emma said with a grin. "Howie, AJ and Kevin?" The guys nodded, seeming a little surprised that she knew who they were. Her eyes landed on Kevin and she gave him a quick once over, taking in how well his jeans fit, and how nicely his black T-shirt molded to his body.
Quickly she banned any further observations from her head. “Let me just tell the DJ's you're here. Help yourself to coffee, and make yourselves at home." She left them, and walked in the studio. She waited for a commercial, then told the morning show trio that their guests were there.
“It’ll be about 15 minutes guys,” she said when she came out. “They’re running a little behind.” She sat at her desk and began to rifle through the stack of paperwork that she still hadn’t gotten to. After a minute she felt eyes boring into the back of her head, and slowly turned around.
They were all staring at her, and it was a little unnerving. “What?” she asked. There was a flutter in her stomach, and she wondered if she’d done something wrong. Their bored expressions registered and the nervousness went away. “You guys want me to entertain you, huh?” she asked. Nick nodded enthusiastically, and Emma couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, my song and dance routine is a bit rusty so, you’re out of luck there.”
They laughed, and Emma glanced at Kevin, and her brown eyes clashed with his green ones. He smiled, and she looked away quickly, smiling at her desk. They spent the next 15 minutes just chatting it up, then Monica, the sharp-tongued morning personality, came out to get the boys.
“You guys ready?” Monica asked, her grey eyes sliding over the guys. She flashed a flirtatious smile at Kevin. Emma felt a stab of jealousy, but she quickly pushed it aside. She had no claim on the boy, nor did she want one.
Monica began to lead the boys into the studio but halted at the door. “Emma,” she said, and Emma looked up from her papers. Something in Monica’s tone made her cringe inside. “Can you make another pot of coffee?” Emma nodded and she continued. “And try not to burn it this time.” Emma’s cheeks flushed. “Even Lucy can make a pot of coffee!” Monica threw her parting shot over her shoulder. Emma made a face at her retreating back, then straightened it as Monica turned to motion to the guys. She locked eyes with Kevin again, and crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Kevin smiled before following the rest of the guys.
“Even Lucy can make a pot of coffee,” Emma mimicked, as she went to start a fresh pot. “When does she even make it to work, let alone make a pot of coffee?” she muttered to herself. She realized that she was talking out loud, and shook her head. Grinning, she said, “Crack baby.”
Kevin watched her through the glass that separated the studio from the production room. “She’s talking to herself…” he thought. He saw her shake her head and grin to herself, then she looked up and saw him watching her. She looked at him for a moment, her gaze steady, then she winked. Kevin laughed out loud, and everyone in the studio stopped talking. He flushed, and stammered an apology.
“Seems Kevin’s taken a liking to one of our production assistants,” Monica remarked, noticing where Kevin’s attention had been directed. Emma looked up at the comment. The tone was joking, but the undercurrent of animosity was clear.
“She’s funny,” Kevin said simply. “Next question.”
Emma smiled and went back to her paperwork. Good, she thought. No chance that he’ll ask me out. The last thing that she wanted was to be asked out on a date. It happened often, and Emma wasn’t quite sure why. She was attractive enough, she supposed. But nothing special. Her brown hair was shoulder length and curly; a curse of being biracial, she’d often complain to her friends. Her mocha colored skin was smooth and clear; a blessing, she explain, again using her parents as an excuse. She was in good shape, but that was just because she swam a mile a day, and lifted weights, and played ice hockey in a local women’s league. Hockey was Emma’s passion; she’d played in college and was thrilled to find a league in Florida when she’d moved here. But, attractive or not, she had no desire to get involved with anyone. She’d been hurt too many times, and, at this point in her life, was quite content to stay single forever. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, and went back to compiling the play-list for the next show.
The rest of the show went off without a hitch, and at 10am, Emma began to pack up her stuff. The door behind her opened, but she didn't turn around. She thought it was Peter, coming in to do his shift. "There's coffee in the pot, the list of songs is on the desk, and I am outta here" she said.
"Umm...." the other person in the room said.
Emma turned around, and smiled. "Kevin, sorry. I thought you were Peter." She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "What's up?"
"The guys and I were wondering if you'd like to come have lunch with us" Kevin said, turning a little pink. Emma creased her brow, and he hurried on. "You know, as a thank you for being so nice." He could see her thinking about it.
"I’m meeting my roommate for lunch,” Emma began to explain. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She was meeting her, just not until next week.
“Bring her” Kevin said.
“I really can’t…” Emma began. Something—hurt?—flashed briefly in his eyes, but it was gone before she could put her finger on it. She sighed. “I don't see why not," she said, blatantly breaking the cardinal rule of the station 'Thou shalt not socialize with guests'. "Tell me where to meet you and I'll be there."
They set a time and place, and Kevin went to meet the rest of the guys. As soon as he was gone, Emma picked up the phone and called Mandi at the school she worked at. “No questions. Meet me at noon” she rattled off the place, and hung up, hoping that Mandi showed up.
