Page 106 of Big Sexy Love
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Chapter Thirty-Three
Olive’s recent searchhistory:
ImprovManchester
Tips for being on radiointerview
How to suppress burpsdiscreetly
Bruised penispainful?
Bruised penis commoninjury?
Fleperty
When the cabpulls up outside Anchorage Studios, I’m surprised to see how close it is to the Rockefeller Center. I think about what Seth’s doing right this minute. He told me he was working tonight. He’s probably up there right now. Studiously avoiding my text. Icing hisbruise.
Myself and my two unlikely sidekicks march through the door. At the reception desk, the man behind it gives the three of us a confused look. Granted we don’t look quite like the kind of people who frequent radio station studios on the regular. The last-minute nature of this whole thing means that my hair is all big and tangled around my head, my eyes tired and my dress crumpled. Mrs Ramirez looks like she should be sitting on a front porch, rocking in a chair somewhere. Anders looks impeccable as always but, you know, likeAnders.
We’re instructed up to the fourth floor and when the elevator doors open we are met by Terri who looks much like she sounds – cropped blonde hair, sturdy athletic figure and stylish no-fuss outfit of black jeans, a white shirt and high-heeled leather ‘don’t fuck with me’boots.
‘Thank god you’re here,’ she says, grabbing my hand and speedily yanking me down a corridor without even saying hello. ‘You don’t look great but, fuck it, we don’t have many optionsrightnow.’
Rude!
I look behind me, wide-eyed, as Mrs Ramirez and Anders try to keep up with Terri’s rapid pace but don’t quite manage it considering Mrs Ramirez’s dodgy knee and the tightness of Anders’ jeans. The pair of them look genuinely excited to be here, though, and that excitement ignites a little fire in my belly too. I’m going to be on the radio. Actualradio!
Terri pushes open a big set of double doors and into a huge, warehouse-type room covered in lights and lines of tape over the floors and massive expensive-lookingcameras.
‘Ooh it’s a TV studio as well!’ I say. ‘Is the radio studiobitfar?’
Terri throws me an annoyed look for slowing her pace. ‘Excuseme?’
‘The radio studio,’ Mrs Ramirez enunciates very slowly from behind, her Spanish accent making the ‘r’s roll melodically. ‘She said the radiostudio.’
‘Who gives a shit where the nearest radio station is!’ Terri barks. ‘Who listens to radio these days! This isEvenings with Craig andDiane!’
‘Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness, Olive!’ Mrs Ramirez squeals, pressing a hand to her bosom. ‘I love Craig and Diane!’ She absolutely beams. ‘I thought I recognisedthisset.’
‘This is TV?’ I yelp as Terri grabs my arm again and pulls me across the studio floor, pushing me into a small, bright room with mirrors across the wall, a row of spinny chairs and tons of hair and make-up products laid out oncountertops.
‘Live TV,’ Terri corrects, looking at her watch. ‘I’ll be back in five. Hair and Make-up should be with you in two. Your friends can sit in here with you for now. There’s a water cooler over there.’ She points into the corner oftheroom.
‘W-wait, what shall I—’ I start, but before I can even finish the sentence Terrihasleft.
‘How exciting!’ Mrs Ramirez sings. ‘Craig and Diane! Craig is my favourite. AnAmericanhunk!’
‘Live TV!’ I choke, my voice all wobbly. I was feeling so brave before. But that was when I thought I was going on radio! But TV? Live TV? ‘Argh! Live TV? Oh man. I don’t even know who Craig andDianeare!’
‘It’s a local talk show,’ Anders says dismissively, picking up a hairbrush from the countertop and inspecting it. ‘It’s a five boroughs news TV show. So millions of people will definitelynotbewatching.’
‘This is all a good thing!’ Mrs Ramirez points out, admiring herself in the mirror. ‘TV has much stronger reach than radio. We have a far better chance of someone who watches knowing whereChuckis!’
I peer at my terrified face in the mirror and think of my best friend. Mrs Ramirez is right. This isn’t about me. It’s about Birdie and I will doanythingto make this happenforher.
‘I can do it,’ I say to myself sternly. ‘Icandoit.’
