Rock Radio (28 page)

They got out of the cab and let the bellman gather their luggage.

“Once you check in, we’ll bring it to your room,” he said, taking their names and handing them a claim ticket.

Inside
, the hotel was a tropical fantasy.  A huge waterfall was the centerpiece falling from the second floor into a large pond below.  Bright golden Koi swam peacefully below the water, while perfectly white swans floated on the surface.  Lush foliage framed the scene.

It was magnificent.

They approached the registration desk and received a hero’s welcome.

Sharon leaned up against the desk.  “Sharon Foster and Dana Drew,
WORR.”

The check in clerk smiled broadly, speaking in proper British English.  “Yes, we’ve been
expecting you.  Welcome to Paradise Island Resort and Casino.”  She typed quickly on her hidden keyboard.  “We have lovely rooms for both of you on the top floor, fantastic suites with fabulous views.”  She produced two key cards and handed them to Dana and Sharon.  “You’re on the fifteenth floor.  I’ll have your bags sent up immediately.  If you have any questions feel free to call the concierge.”  She smiled.  “Enjoy your stay.”

Dana and Sharon giggled at their good fortune, marveling at their luck.  They practically skipped across the marble floors to the glass elevator.  The ride up to the fifteenth floor was spectacular.  They rose above the lobby, the glass elevator revealing the tropical landscape surrounding the resort.  A huge pool, complete with a water slide came into view, and behind it, the expansive clear blue Atlantic Ocean. It was breathtaking.

“I may not go back,” Sharon commented.

Dana nodded in agreement.  “Why should we?”

Dana and Sharon’s rooms were equally exceptional.  Dana entered her room and walked through a large foyer into a living room.  Sumptuous white couches with giant pillows looked out toward a large picture window framing the sapphire blue ocean.  Watercolors of palm trees and colorful beach scenes with large pastel umbrellas adorned the pale yellow walls.  White crown molding bordered the ceiling, giving the room a majestic feel.

To the left of the living room was the master suite.  A large bed draped in a white duvet sat on a giant dark wood fr
ame in the center of the room, but the true focus of the room was a sliding glass door dressed in billowy white gauzy curtains, behind which was a large balcony with another incredible ocean view.

Dana had little time to enjoy her accommodations.  She had just an hour and a half before her first broadcast.  The station engineer, Liam, had flown down earlier to set up the connection. They’d be broadcasting from the pool area.  Dana quickly unpacked her
small travel bag and then took a brief shower.  She dressed in khaki shorts and her black WORR T-shirt with a golden electric guitar emblazoned on the front of it.  Strappy black wedge sandals, a quick brush of her long ebony hair and Dana was ready. She added one more coat of red lipstick and left to meet Sharon at the remote site.

A small crowd had already gathered around the broadcast table by the pool, curious about the radio station.  Some guests were from Miami and recognized the station’s call letters on the banner in front of the table.  The winner of the contest, Tom Gantry had taken an earlier flight that day.  He stopped by the desk and was talking to Liam when Dana arrived.

“Hi, I’m Dana Drew.”  She extended her hand.

“Tom Gantry.”  The heavyset man with a thick beard extended his hand.  “Wow am I lucky.”  The petite, full figured blonde woman next to him gave him a sharp elb
ow.  “Oh, this is my wife, Janet.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Dana shook her hand as well, ever the good hostess.  “I was just telling Sharon the same thing.”  She motioned to Sharon.  “She’s the promotions director.”

Tom and Janet smiled in wide-eyed excitement...unable to decide which was more amazing, winning a trip to Paradise Island or spending the afternoon with Dana Drew.

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to your vacation...we’re going on the air shortly so I just need to get my notes together.  If you all could stop by a little later so I can interview you, that’d be great.”

“Sure,” they nodded in unison and took off for the huge pool.

“So Liam, how are ye?”  Dana kidded the tall Scotsman.  Liam the engineer endured endless ribbing, especially Star Trek teasing.  ‘Beam me up Liam,’ was a familiar refrain, much to his chagrin.

“I’m fine Miss Drew and you?”  His thick Scottish brogue was rather sexy.

“Wonderful.  Do we have a connection?”

“Indeed we do.  I’m talking to Miami now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she teased.

“Me too,” he winked.

Sharon approached Dana with a slim Bahamian woman.  “Dana this is Charlotte, she’s with the Paradise Island Resort and Casino.”

“Dana we are so happy to have you here,” she said, prim British accent in full effect.  Charlotte had flawless cocoa colored skin and large blue eyes.  She was striking.  She wore a light pink wrap dress that was perfectly pressed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.”

“I’d like to give you some information about our hotel that we’d like you to mention, if possible.”

“Certainly,” Dana replied taking the stacks of promotional sheets, glancing over them briefly.  “Anything in particular you want me to say?”

“Just tell them how fantastic it is here,” she said, motioning to their surroundings.  “I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“It’s not hard to.”

“Good, and to make it even easier,” she snapped her fingers, summoning a waiter from the bar area, “Charles here will get you whatever island creation you desire...as well as some snacks.”

“Great,” Dana said, inspired by the island vibe.  “I’ll have whatever you recommend.”

“At your service, Madame,” Charles took a small bow.

“Oh, I like him a lot.”

“If you have any questions or requests,” Charlotte continued, “let me know.  Here’s my business card with all my numbers.”  She shook Dana’s hand, “Thank you and enjoy.”

“Dana!”  Liam’s voice rose, “Five minutes.”

Dana scurried around the table and put on her headphones.  In her ears the loud rock music from the station conflicted greatly with the calypso band that was playing poolside.  The song started to end and Dana was on.

“It’s Dana Drew live from paradise...
the Paradise Island Resort and Casino on Paradise Island in Nassau.  Let me tell you, this hotel is amazing.  Beautiful, spacious and right on the crystal blue ocean.  I’m out by their enormous pool right now sitting under sunny skies awaiting an amazing tropical libation...the only thing missing here is you.  But it doesn’t have to be that way.  You too can get to this glorious resort.  Just call 1-800-555-PALM and make your reservation today.  We’ve got more rock on the way from Beck...stay tuned.”  And she was out.

Liam gave her the thumbs up,
Charles came by and gave her a clear blue colored drink adorned with a bright orange flower.

“Looks good...what is it?”

“The Blue Bird of Paradise, a house specialty.  I have some appetizers for you as well.”  He set down a plate of conch fritters, coconut shrimp and a tray of fresh fruit.  “If you need anything else, let me know.”

Dana tucked the flower behind her
ear and sipped the blue drink.  Fruity and sweet, she could barely taste the alcohol.  “This is dangerous,” she said, pulling the maraschino cherry from the red plastic sword.  “But a good kind of dangerous.”

“Don’t have too many of those,” Liam warned, “You are still working.”

“Oh, Liam, why don’t you take a drink?”  That was Sharon.  She was sipping the same drink as Dana, Charles had graciously brought three.

Liam, not one to turn down a drink, obliged.

They all laughed.

The calypso band began playing
Yellowbird
, a gentle breeze swept by and the warm sun bathed them.  It was perfect.  Dana put her feet up and waited for her next break.

“Madame?” Charles’ accent broke through the calm.

“Yes?”

“I have a drink for you compliments of a Mr. Martin Van Buren.”  He put a piña colada down at her table.

“I don’t believe I know a Martin...” Then it hit her.  She looked past his shoulder.  Sitting at the bar she saw a gorgeous man.

Brown hair flecked with gold, tan skin and bright blue eyes.

It was Cody.

Jonny missed Dana.

He moved from the apartment he shared with his wife to Dana’s apartment.  Now, Dana was off in paradise and he was by himself.  For the first time in six years he was alone.

Jonny tried to revert back to his single behavior.  He walked naked through the apartment, ate super rich non-non-fat ice cream straight from the container and played his favorite death metal CD that Jill hated as loud as the stereo would go.

It was now ten a.m. and Jonny was bored.

He didn’t go on the air until two p.m., and while he did have some work to do at the station, he didn’t want to go in.  Ever since the whole blow-up between Jill and Heather, Jonny was avoiding the station.  He was avoiding Heather.

She had tried calling his cell phone, but he didn’t pick up when he saw her number and he didn’t return her calls either.  Heather’s immaturity in handling the situation, coupled with the much too late realization that he really loved Jill, forced Jonny into an anti-Heather zone.  Since she destroyed his marriage, he had no desire to be with her, see her or talk to her.  She had taken everything from him.

Jonny wasn’t naive enough to put all the blame on her.  He knew he had fault in this...he knew he really had all of the fault, but Heather handled the whole thing wrong.  Now he was without Jill and he was miserable.  He’d forgotten how lonely it was to be single.

Jonny strolled through Dana’s apartment, nosy, by virtue of boredom.  The family room had two cream sofas, quite comfortable for sleeping.  In front of the sofas was a large glass coffee table with black wrought iron legs.  In the corner of the room was her CD col
lection, alphabetized by artist.  He ran his finger down the stack of CDs.  She had some inspired choices: Etta James, Stevie Wonder and Simon and Garfunkel, probably not what most people would expect to find in rock deejay Dana Drew’s collection.

On the coffee table was her phone, next to it a pad and paper.  He flipped though the pad and found doodles of flowers, Cody’s name and 3-D boxes.  He then scrolled through the caller ID on her phone.  There were lots of calls from different cities in Florida, presumably from Cody, calls from the radio station, from his phone and one odd call from Larry Carter.  Jonny recognized the name from what he had called Dana’s “huge overreaction” to a listener.  That was
strange though that Larry called her at home...and how did he get her number?  Maybe Dana wasn’t so crazy to worry about this guy.  He decided he’d talk to her about it when she got back.

Jonny moved into her adjoining dining area.  It was simple - a white wood table with white wood chairs and red cushions.  Enlarged photographs of red hibiscus hung on the walls. 
Nicely matched,
he thought.  Jonny passed through her simple kitchen, then went into her bedroom.  He stopped in the doorway.  No, this would go too far.  He turned and flopped back on the couch, proud of his restraint.

The phone rang.  He checked the
caller ID, it was the station.  They knew he was staying here, but didn’t know why.

“Hello.”

“Jonny, it’s Ted.  I need to see you in my office.  Now.”

Larry smashed violently through the wall.  It was now the recipient of years of rejection.

“That’s for calling me stupid,” he yelled, pushing the drill in even farther.  “And for not giving me a chance.”

Bits of wall and white dust flew forward.  He didn’t care.  The destruction was freeing.  A sense of great power came over him as the hole in the wall enlarged.  Larry pushed into the cinder block with all his might watching with glee as the wall was destroyed.  For once, he was the master of his universe, the controller of his destiny.

“AHHHH!” he let out a primal
yell, abandoned the drill and began clawing at the wall, pulling apart the dry wall with his bare hands, ripping down the horrible memories.  The white walls became spattered with blood.  Larry looked down at his hands, they were badly cut up, but there was no pain.  The sight of the blood did, however, prompt him to stop the rampage.  He didn’t want to stain the wall permanently.  Quickly, he ran to the kitchen and wrapped paper towels around his hands.  He then wet more paper towel at the sink, brought it back to the wall and furiously began scrubbing.  The redness faded, but a faint stain remained.  He scrubbed at it even harder, but he could not get it out.  The paper towels his hands were wrapped in were growing wet with his blood.  Larry realized he needed to tend to himself.

“I’ll just paint over it,” he muttered and ran upstairs to the bathroom.  He found the bottle of hydrogen peroxide under the sink, just where it should be, behind the alcohol, and poured the clear liquid over his blood
y hands.  He winced in pain as he felt a cool sting foam over his wounds.  The blood persisted.  “Damn,” he said pouring more peroxide over his hands.  The last thing he wanted to have to do was go to the hospital for stitches.  He grabbed a bath towel, sorry to have to ruin it and wrapped it over his left hand.  He then grabbed the other bath towel with his teeth and used his body to wrap it around his right hand.  Like a boxer with terry cloth gloves, he emerged from the bathroom, incapable of continuing.