10 Years Later

Heat instantly crept up my face. “He was,” I admitted without thinking, then snapped my mouth shut.

“Yes!” John thrust his fist into the air like he’d won a gold medal. “We have got to talk about this today, Cammie!”

“What? Why?” I all but choked out.

“Because our listeners are dying for an update. It’s post-reunion recap time, girl,” Tom explained. “They need to know if you saw your mystery man or not. You give them hope for themselves.”

“But why do I have to be involved?” I whined. “Can’t you just update the greater Los Angeles area about my life, without me? You don’t need me to get people excited to call in,” I reasoned, knowing that I was fighting a losing battle.

John’s expression turned serious. “That’s where you’re wrong. You don’t have any idea how much our listeners love you. Every time you come on the show and say anything personal about yourself, our e-mails and the texting hotline blow up.”

“The phone lines have to go crazy too, Cammie,” Scott added. “And you would know because you answer them.”

Sometimes listeners called the station to talk to me directly, but that was rare. People tended to call when they could contribute to the conversation. I’d decided soon after I first started working for the morning show that most people wanted to feel like they were a part of something. They longed to feel connected to other people, to share a common thought or state of mind, and this show gave them that opportunity. I think we all felt better when we realized we weren’t alone.

“Our listeners love your stories.” John leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. “I think it’s because the majority of our listeners are women and you’re completely relatable to them, unlike us.”

The shock of his words flowed through me, filling me with an almost unidentifiable emotion. I had no idea if he was lying to me simply to get his way, but I wanted to believe him. Even I wanted to connect and belong.

I placed my pen on the table and narrowed my eyes at them. “Is that true?” I looked between the three of them as they all nodded their heads in unison.

Letting out a defeated sigh, I huffed out, “All right. We can talk about the reunion and the guy. But don’t pressure me into saying something I’m not comfortable with, okay? You have to promise me that you’ll change the subject, drop it, or segue into something else if you see that I’m freaking out.” Knowing that Dalton had confessed to listening to the show each morning, I assumed he’d be tuning in for this one, especially after the night we had.

John and Tom glanced at each other, a silent communication passing between them. “We promise,” they said at the same time, and I stuck out my pinky and waited. As they each connected their pinky fingers to mine, we folded them together and shook, making a solemn vow.

I’d managed to make it through the rest of the weekend without hearing from Dalton, or breaking down and calling him myself. I wanted to send him cute little text messages to let him know I was thinking about him, but my pride stopped me. Sometimes I was grateful for my stubborn pride; the last thing I wanted to do was come off as desperate for his attention as I truly was.

It did seem strange that he hadn’t called me all day on Sunday when he seemed so excited to be back in contact with me. I had no idea what he was up to, but assumed he was still working on his case. Aside from being an undercover cop, I had no idea what his job really entailed. I tried not to take the whole twenty-four hours of no contact personally, but I was a girl and that was the kind of thing we did.

To be honest, a small part of me was grateful I didn’t hear from Dalton because Sundays were literally my day of rest. I knew if he had called and wanted to see me, there was no way I would have said no. It had been far too long since I had to balance a relationship and my job, and I hadn’t dated anyone at all since starting on the morning show.

My hours were completely screwed up, and I had no idea how I’d manage this balancing act with Dalton. I imagined him coming over, excited to see me after his day at work, and me falling asleep within ten minutes of his arrival. Ugh. We were doomed before we even started.

Once our pre-show meeting ended, I printed up the interesting entertainment stories from the past weekend and waited for the segment that would include me. I instinctively knew that the guys would wait until the eight o’clock hour, because that was our prime time, when most of our listeners were in their cars and tuned in.

“Welcome back to Tom and John in the Morning. I’m Tom.”

“And I’m John.”

Tom cleared his throat and cast a glance my way before waggling his eyebrows. “So, Los Angeles, if you remember us talking last week about our assistant producer Cammie and her ten-year high school reunion, then you’ll remember that we got her to fess up about being excited to see a certain someone.”

John jumped in. “Yeah, but she wouldn’t tell us who he was.”

“No, she wouldn’t, John. But I think she saw him this weekend,” Tom said with a smile as he waved me in.

“She definitely saw him because she hasn’t stopped grinning since she walked through the door!” John added, and my smile only grew wider as I moved to sit down across from them. Placing the earphones over my head, it occurred to me that I probably should have asked for a raise before I said yes to this.

“Cammie,” Tom said in a low, confidential voice. “You saw him, didn’t you? He who shall not be named.”

I laughed at the reference. “Yeah, I saw him.”

“And?” John dragged the word out, waiting for me to fill in the blanks, which was something I refused to do.

“And what?” I asked.

“Come on, Cammie, Los Angeles is dying to know if you saw your mystery guy and how it went. If I remember right, you weren’t even sure he was going to be there or not, right?”

“That’s right!” Tom said with a laugh. “You were freaking out that you might not be able to tell him you loved him.”