When He Was Bad.... Jane Sullivan

      Nick grinned and picked up the remote, when all at once the phone rang. He tossed the remote aside and grabbed it.

      “This is Nick.”

      “Hi, Nick. This is Sara Davenport.”

      His heart skipped. Hers was the last voice he’d expected to hear on the other end of the line, and for a moment he was actually speechless.

      “Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked.

      “Uh, no,” he said, sitting up straight. “Not at all. I’m just…well, I guess I’m a little surprised. I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”

      “I phoned the station and your producer gave me your home number. I hope you don’t mind.”

      “Of course not.” Nick’s mind was spinning, wondering why she was calling. “I just hope this means you’ve reconsidered my dinner invitation.”

      “No,” she said. “I’m not calling about dinner. But there is something I’d like to discuss with you. A business proposition.”

      Business? He could think of all kinds of business he’d like to get down to with her. Unfortunately, she sounded as if she meant, well…business.

      “Can you meet me at my office tomorrow at ten o’clock?”

      Nick ran through his mental to-do list for tomorrow and saw nothing on his schedule for that hour. And between now and then, if he remembered something, he’d cancel it.

      “Sure, Sara. I can meet you at ten.”

      “Good. My office address is 8442 Cavanaugh Court, Suite 214.”

      Nick grabbed a pencil and scribbled the address on the cover of his TV Guide. “Care to tell me what we’re gonna be talking about?”

      “I’d rather go into it tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

      “Sure. That’s fine.”

      “I’ll see you then.”

      “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

      Nick heard a click. He held out the phone and stared at it for a moment, then turned to Ted. “That’s weird.”

      “What?”

      He returned the phone to its cradle. “That was Sara Davenport.”

      “The shrink on the show today?”

      “Yeah. She wants me to meet her at her office tomorrow morning.”

      Ted raised his eyebrows. “Her office, huh? Why there?”

      “I don’t know. She’s says it’s business.”

      Ted grinned. “Business? Right. Don’t psychologists have couches in their offices?”

      “They do on TV.”

      “Well, there you go, kid.”

      “What?”

      “I’d say she’s looking for a little afternoon delight. This way, you don’t even have to buy her dinner.”

      “Will you give me a break? It’s nothing like that. Trust me. When she left the station, she was cold as ice. And I don’t sense that a whole lot of thawing has taken place since then.”

      “Oh, yeah? Bet you can lock her office door, draw the blinds and get her naked in under two minutes.”

      Nick gave him a deadpan stare. “Ted?”

      “Yeah?”

      “You really need to get a love life of your own.”

      “Nah. What woman in her right mind is gonna want a washed-up bum like me? Just hand me a beer and let me live vicariously.”

      As Ted picked up the remote and found the station the game was on, Nick glanced at the phone again, still wondering why Sara wanted to see him.

      And why he wanted to see her.

      It was crazy, after all. Sara wasn’t anything like the kind of women he usually dated. She’d probably never done a Jell-O shot in her life. Or picked up a pool cue. Or flashed her boobs during Mardi Gras, worn a thong or woken up in Cancun with a hangover and wondered how she’d gotten there. Instead, she’d been busy getting all those letters after her name and writing books, not to mention straightening out people’s minds and collecting a hefty paycheck for her services. Just being seen with a sharp, conservative, intellectual woman like Sara would make his bar-hopping, speed-dating, sports-crazy listeners wonder when he’d gone over to the dark side.

      So why did he feel a hot little rush at the very thought of seeing her again?

      He had no idea. He only knew that it had been a very long time since he’d met a woman who was any kind of challenge at all. Most of the women he encountered were either waiting in the lobby of the station to slip their phone numbers into his pocket, calling his show with various sexual propositions or tossing their panties into the booth whenever he did remotes. He tried to imagine Sara doing any of those things, and he almost laughed out loud.

      He settled back with Ted to watch the game, but he had a hard time concentrating. Business? He had no idea if Sara ever mixed that with pleasure, but he sure intended to find out.