Devin, of course. People expect a panty-ripper when they hear his voice, and he doesn’t disappoint.”
“Excuse me, a what?”
“Panty-ripper. You know, the kind of man you’d rip your panties off for.”
Megan stumbled slightly over her own feet. She couldn’t quite argue with that statement, but she certainly wasn’t going to agree out loud. Hell, she’d been guilty of some panty-ripping on more than one occasion…. She stopped that train of thought. Ancient history.
Kate continued talking, thankfully unaware of the heat stealing over Megan’s face. “But that’s the key to Devin’s cross-demographic appeal. The men like his content, and the women like his package.” She winked. “What’s the saying? Men want to be him and the women just want him.”
Did Kate want him? Was there something going on between Dev and his beautiful producer? Megan told herself it was strictly professional curiosity, but that didn’t explain the little pang in her stomach. “So where is he? Did you give him my message?”
“Devin’s plane was delayed and he’s been frightfully busy all afternoon. He must not have had a chance to call. But you’ll see him shortly.” Kate held open a door for her. “We don’t have a Green Room or anything, but you can hang out here for a few minutes and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to start prepping you.”
Prepping? That sounded as if something painful was coming. Megan wished she had a clue what went on at a radio station.
As the door closed, she realized Kate had left her in a break room. Table, fridge, couch, coffeepot—it could have been in any office anywhere, except for the pictures on the walls. She assumed many of them were on-air personalities, but she didn’t recognize their faces. Except Devin’s, of course. She did, however, recognize the people they posed with—sports stars, celebrities, politicians. Dear Lord, was that the vice president shaking Dev’s hand?
The realization hit her a little too late. Some of America’s most popular and controversial talk-radio shows broadcast out of this very building. Possibly using the same microphones and everything she was about to use. It was a little intimidating.
She settled on the couch and ran a hand over her hair. A snort escaped. She was going to be on the radio; it didn’t matter what she looked like since only a few people would see her.
And one of those people would be Devin. It wasn’t vanity or wanting to look good for him that sent her digging for lipstick. She was about to go talk to thousands—possibly hundreds of thousands—of people. She needed to feel confident. Even if they couldn’t see her, the confidence of knowing she looked decent would come through in her voice.
It had nothing to do with Devin.
Hard on that thought, the door opened. Expecting it to be Kate, she finished with her lipstick and dropped it into her bag before turning.
Devin stood there, a slightly mocking look on his face. “It’s radio, you know. No one can see you.”
Do not take the bait. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, as well.” Pleasure might not be exactly the right word, since her stomach felt a little unsteady as he closed the door behind him, but at least her voice sounded normal enough to her ears.
Devin acknowledged the small slam against his manners with a mocking nod. He didn’t seem happy she was here. Was he regretting inviting her on the show? Holding a grudge for her behavior the other day? He crossed to the fridge and took out two bottles of water. Handing one to her, he confirmed her earlier feeling. “I can’t believe Kate convinced you to do this.”
“Kate made some very valid points about controlling the press and putting the proper spin on things.”
“Kate would sacrifice kittens on the air if she thought it would improve our ratings.”
“So your plan is to sacrifice me?” A dread settled in her chest. Had she just walked into an even bigger disaster? Was this going to make things worse?
He shook his head. “This isn’t my plan. Not by a long shot. I only learned of this bright idea as I was landing at O’Hare today. I’ve had to rearrange several things to accommodate you.”
“Accommodate me? Kate said—” Damn. She should’ve … “Why didn’t you return my call? We could have avoided this.”
He shrugged. “The publicity was done. And I’ve been a bit busy today.”
That remark reminded her how busy she wasn’t at the moment, thanks to him and his stupid book. “I can imagine. A radio show, a book tour—it must be exhausting. How do you find the time to practice law?”
“I don’t. Much.”
“What?” That seemed impossible. Dev loved the law. Loved the tactics, the arguments, the logic required. Way back when, he’d spend hours explaining the nuances of a case or a statute to her, and his passion for law and justice had been one of the things she’d loved about him. She’d been floored to hear he’d ended up a high-priced and notorious divorce attorney, but to give it up altogether?
“My name may be on the door of the firm, but it doesn’t mean I’m on every case. That’s what partners and paralegals are for.”
“Do you miss it?” The question was out before she could stop it.
“I don’t have time for that either.” She wanted to respond to that, but Devin rushed ahead. “Sounds like you’ve done pretty well for yourself, Dr. Lowe. You became a psychiatrist after all.”
“Clinical psychologist—” no thanks to you “—but you’re close enough.” As was she—just a few more months and she’d be official.
“And is it everything you hoped it would be?”
She could hear a small undercurrent in his voice that made her wonder if he was trying to pick a fight. No one else would notice it, but she knew that tone all too well for it not to send her hackles up. She lifted her chin. “And more.”
“Good for you.” He finished the bottle of water in one long drink and tossed it into the recycling bin.
Megan battled with herself. She’d sworn she wouldn’t let her temper or her emotions control her and drive her to say or do anything that remotely resembled that debacle at the bookstore. She knew he was needling her. Intentionally. “Dr. Lowe” recognized that and knew how to handle it both properly and professionally. “Meggie,” though, wanted to smack back.
Meggie won. “So how do you like being the country’s divorce guru? Is it everything you hoped for while you were in law school?” She feigned confusion. “Oh, wait, that’s not why you went to law school in the first place. Let me guess, there’s more money in divorce than in protecting the Constitution.”
“Lots more money.” Dev had the audacity to grin at her and she felt childish for giving in to the urge to snark back. “Bit more excitement, too.”
“And to think you used to be an idealist.” The disappointment in her voice wasn’t all fake.
“Blind idealism is dangerous.”
