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  Oh, Lord, he should have said something earlier before she started making plans for their future. “Listen, before you say anything, I think you’re a terrific lady, but I’m not ready for a steady relationship, so if you’re planning—”

  “Great.” Allie sank into her chair. “Don’t think I didn’t enjoy last night. I did. But I don’t think it should happen again.” She beamed up at him. “I’m so relieved you feel the same way.”

  “Well…” Charlie stopped, confused.

  “Not that we can’t still be friends,” Allie went on. “And even roommates. I talked to Joe while you were in the bathroom this morning, and if you’d like to stay with us on the couch for the time you’ll be here, it’s all right.”

  “Oh, well…” Charlie nodded four or five times, his head wobbling a little as he tried to gather his thoughts. “Uh, sure. Good.”

  “Great.” Allie picked up some papers from her desk, clearly eager to get back to work. “I’ll tell Joe when I get home tonight.”

  “Good.” Charlie stood up. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Uh, I think I’ll go watch Harry for a while.”

  Allie waved her hand at him as he left, already working on those papers. Efficient at all times, that was Allie.

  It was really irritating of her.

  Why don’t I feel better about this? Charlie thought as he headed for the booth. This was what he wanted. She’d just taken care of it for him. Just the way she took care of everything. He shook his head at the acidity in the thought. This was probably just stupid male pride. He wanted to be the one to break things off. Oh, well. Her loss.

  He walked off down the hall, wondering why he felt so empty if it was her loss.

  INSIDE THE OFFICE, Allie threw the papers down on the desk beside Samson’s basket, and sat back. She was really glad. Glad, glad, glad. At last she’d made a mature adult decision about a man, and now she could concentrate on the important stuff like making Charlie’s show a hit.

  Boy, was she glad.

  Really.

  CHARLIE WATCHED Harry through the window into the booth. He was talking animatedly into the mike, his hands moving up and down the console like a maniac’s. Howlin’ Harry.

  Great. First he got kicked out of Allie’s bed and now he was following an insane person.

  When Harry stopped talking and leaned back, Charlie knocked on the window and Harry motioned him in.

  “Nice job on Mark in the break room today.” Harry grinned at him as he came in. “Look, Ma, no hands.”

  Charlie grinned back. It would be impossible not to grin at Harry. He radiated goodwill. “I should have known better,” Charlie told him.

  “Why? Mark didn’t.” Harry gestured to the console. “Anything you need to know about here?”

  “Why don’t you give me a fast refresher?” Charlie said, and Harry looked at him strangely and then explained how the noise level on the cassette and CD players were controlled by the red plastic sliding tabs on the console. Charlie did fine until Harry told him that if more than one slide was up at the same time, they’d all be heard, and then began to discuss the three thousand ways the slides could be combined for effect. “Great,” Charlie said when Harry was finished and Charlie was lost. “I think I’ll just stick with one at a time.”

  Harry shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Can I sit in here and watch the rest of your show?” Charlie asked him, hoping that he’d learn by watching what he hadn’t gotten by listening.

  “Hey, you’re welcome anytime,” Harry told him and then went back to the mike to announce that Tuttle had just heard a Howlin’ Harry triple play.

  His howl was actually worse in the booth than it was on the radio.

  AT NINE FIFTY-EIGHT, Allie took her seat at the production console and watched through the window as Charlie leaned on the wall of the booth and Harry hunched over the mike. Charlie’s loose-limbed body relaxed against the white acoustic tile, and she followed the lines of his arms with her eyes, focusing finally on his long, large-knuckled fingers. He had big hands, but they were agile, she remembered. Lovely, long fingers.

  She wrenched her mind back to the show. Fingers didn’t count in radio. Just in bed. And from now on, they were just in radio, not in bed. Tonight was the first night of the rest of her career. If she was going to make Charlie a star—and she was—tonight was the night she studied him to see how he worked. Then she’d know how to shape the show, how to publicize it, how to make Charlie the Tuttle flavor of the month. She felt her heart beat faster and grinned at herself. She’d be back on top in no time. She turned her attention back to the booth, keeping her mind firmly off Charlie’s body and strictly on his potential. For radio.

  Harry was shrieking, “And that’s it for tonight for all you wild and crazy Howlers out there. Next up is the new boy on the block, Chucklin’ Charlie Tenniel. So here’s one last Howler from Harry. Harooooooo!”

  Harry moved the mike slide down and the disk slide up, and Allie heard the “The Monster Mash” come up on the speakers.

  Chucklin’ Charlie Tenniel? Poor Charlie. Well, she could fix that. She could fix everything as long as she kept her concentration. She was going to make him a star if it killed them both.

  Harry talked to Charlie for a minute and then came out and joined her. “The news is punched up and ready,” Harry told her, then frowned slightly. “I thought Bill said Charlie had a lot of experience.”

  “Yes.” Allie checked the phone lines in front of her while she talked. The chances of anyone calling in were slim, but she was prepared to nurture anyone who did, even on the first night. “He had a couple of years with a Lawrenceville station.”

  “Sure doesn’t act like it.” Harry shrugged. “Oh, well, it’s not like it’s brain surgery. If I can do it, he can.”

  “Stop that.” Allie looked up at him, exasperated. “You’re very good. You’d be better if you stopped that damn howling, but you’re still good. And, Harry, that Chucklin’ Charlie thing has got to go. We’re running a class program here.”

  “That I wouldn’t know anything about. How does he want to be intro-ed?”

  “Well, he hates Ten Tenniel for some reason, so that’s out.” Allie sat back. They needed a good title. A catch phrase. “Just Charlie is too bland. Charlie Late Night?”

  Harry shook his head. “Sounds like Letterman.”

  “Okay, uh, Charlie At Night?”

  Harry shook his head again. “Boring.”

  Allie cast around for more ideas. “Charlie Overnight? Charlie Midnight? Charlie All Night?”

  “Last one’s good,” Harry said. “Kind of sexy. He’s got that voice.”

  Allie tried not to look hopeful. “You think he’s going to be good?”

  “Hard to tell.” Harry shifted on his feet. “Listen, Al, I was wondering…”

  His voice trailed off and Allie was left with the unheard-of occurrence of a speechless Harry.

  “Yes?” She nodded at him, trying to be encouraging.

  Harry swallowed. “I know you don’t have time to work on my show, but if you could give me a few tips, well, I’d really—”

  “Stop howling,” Allie said firmly. “You’re a lovely, warm, intelligent man. Use it.”

  “Howling is my life.”

  Harry didn’t appear to be joking. Allie sighed. “Let me think about this and get back to you tomorrow.”

  Harry grinned, lighting his whole face. “Thanks, Al, that’s great.” He looked over his shoulder at Charlie who was surveying his new domain with what looked like terror. “I’d stay on top of him tonight, if I were you. He looks like he’s going to blow.”

  “Not Charlie,” Allie said loyally, but she wasn’t reassured by the look on her new star’s face. “He’ll be okay once he starts talking.”

  “That’s usually when I screw up,” Harry said.

  When the news was over, they both watched as Charlie leaned over the console, pushing the mike slide up and the cassette slide down, and then spok