Page 13 of Just Another Silly Love Song

I sat back, thinking maybe I had invented a new radio format without even knowing it. Forget about Adult Contemporary or Country or Classic Rock.

Welcome to Breakup Radio!

I shook my head and laughed. “Right . . .”

Who was I kidding?

I knew it would never happen.

I also knew I would get a slap on the wrist for playing these songs if the program director ever found out. He rarely listened to my show. Unless he got a complaint or someone told him, he would probably never find out. The radio station did have what was called an aircheck system, a computer program that recorded everything that was said when the microphone was turned on, but he rarely listened to that either.

I would be fine.

The door swung open and banged against the wall.

Okay, maybe I won’t be so fine.

It was Doug, the program director.

His hair was sticking up in a hundred directions like he had been sleeping.

He crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the floor, looking like he was about to blow a gasket.

I turned down the music in the studio, hoping he didn’t hear “Tainted Love” by Soft Cell. Not that it mattered because the radio station was being played throughout the hallways of the building, so he knew I had been playing the song.

“Hey, Doug.” I swiveled around in my chair to face him, trying to sound casual, like it was business as usual. “How are things?”

He let out a breath and shook his head. “Notso good. What were you thinking?”

I forced a smile. “I played a few songs that weren’t part of the format. How bad could it be? They wereverypopular songs and did actually relate to each and every listener who had called in.”

“Lori—”

“Look, I know what I did was probably not the best idea, but I doubt listeners have been turning off the radio or changing the station to listen to something different. They’ve been engaged and the phones have been crazy! Look for yourself!” I pointed to the phone system.

All seven lines were flashing.

Doug didn’t even glance in that direction. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, it does! As much as it was different from my normal show, and as much as it wasnotwhat I was contracted to do, everything will be back to normal tomorrow. The ratings won’t suffer and the listeners won’t care.” I slapped myself on the top of my hand. “There. I’m a bad girl for doing it, but it won’t happen again.”

Doug scoffed. “You don’t get it. This has nothing to do with the listeners and their engagement or even the music, although you shouldn’t have done those things.”

I scrunched my eyebrows together and studied him. “Then what are we talking about here?”

He sighed. “It has to do with one of your callers, specifically your boyfriend who called our top advertiser cheap bastards on the air, that’s what.”

I stared at Doug. “Oh. That.” I had completely forgotten. “Chew him out . . . he’s the one who said it, not me.”

“Why weren’t you using the seven-second delay so you could cut him off?”

The seven second delay was an intentional delay of whatever was being broadcast over the airwaves to prevent mistakes, profanity, and other undesirable material from making it to the air.

I shrugged. “The delay was on. I just wasn’t doing a very good job of paying attention and let it slip through.”

“That was a big mistake because Rolando Tech spends over two hundred thousand dollars with us every year on advertising and they’re the ones who help us meet our budget.”

“Come on. They probably didn’t even hear it.”