10 Years Later

“You two are so annoying!” I said as I rolled my eyes. “But you’re right. I had no idea if he was going to show up or not.”

“But he did.” John breathed into the microphone, pretending to hang on to my every word.

“He did,” I said with a smile.

“Oh no. He wasn’t married, was he?” John asked, suddenly concerned.

“No. He’s single, thank God,” I said quickly before wishing I could suck the words back in.

Tom leaned forward in his chair before pressing his mouth almost on top of his silver mic. “So he showed up. He’s single. Does this mean that there might be a date in our Cammie’s future?”

I pretended to growl at the two grown men in front of me as I spun in my seat. “Yes. At least, I think so. He said he wanted to see me again.”

“But he hasn’t called you yet?” John let out a tsk-tsk, and I wondered if I was coming off sounding naive.

“It’s only been a day,” I said defensively, then actually started to worry. The last thing I ever wanted to be was one of the clueless girls who couldn’t read the signs. You know, that he’s not that into you.

John hummed into the mic. “Hmm, what do you think, Los Angeles? Do you think Cammie’s dream guy is blowing her off, or do you think he’ll really call?”

I tried to convince myself that they were using me and exaggerating for good radio, but I wasn’t completely persuaded. And when the intern answering the phone lines knocked on the window separating him from the booth, I felt a trickle of sweat slide between my shoulder blades.

Tom read the computer screen in front of him before nudging John and pointing at words I couldn’t see. “Oh, we have a caller on the line. He says he knows you, Cammie. Hello, caller, are you there?”

The line crackled at first, then the sound of two guys arguing briefly in the background filled the silence before one voice spoke up louder.

“I’m here. Sorry, my coworker’s being an idiot.” Dalton’s voice calmed every nerve I had, then simultaneously amplified them all at once.

John and Tom both laughed. “Tell us why you’re calling,” Tom demanded, cutting to the chase before pointing a finger at me.

“Because I’m the guy Cammie went to the reunion to see,” Dalton admitted for all of Los Angeles to hear, and my cheeks began to tingle, telling me they were turning a bright red. His tone was confident, not arrogant, simply sure of himself.

I tried to hide my face in my hands, but the guys called me out. “Cammie, is this true? Is this the guy??

??

Leaning toward the hanging mic, I answered, “Yes. That’s him.” I couldn’t believe he had called the station and was on the air right now.

“Dude, why the hell didn’t you call her yesterday?” John asked as Tom spit out, “Why haven’t you asked her on a date yet?”

The guys continued to bark rapid-fire questions at Dalton, and I wished I could curl into a ball and roll off the chair, out of the booth, and away from here.

Dalton interrupted them. “Well, guys, that’s actually why I called. I’ve been working all hours and I’m exhausted. But, Cammie, I wanted to know if I could see you tonight.”

“Tonight?” I gasped as my body zinged with excited nerves.

“Yeah, tonight. I can’t wait to see you again. Please say yes.” He sounded so sincere as someone in the background yelled at him, and he covered his phone to yell back.

Tom and John both turned pleading eyes on me for an answer.

“Of course. I can’t wait to see you either.” I almost ended my response by saying his first name, and was thankful I caught myself. I wasn’t ready to give up his identity to all who could hear our broadcast.

“I’ll call you later. ’Bye, guys. Take good care of my girl.” Dalton ended the call before another word could be spoken.

Oh. My. God.

He called me his girl.

“Did you hear what he called you?” Tom asked, and I sucked my bottom lip in between my teeth and bit down hard.