Page 3 of Hot Mic

She checked and found a message from Gemma. ‘Big boss lady wants to see me,’ she muttered.

‘Did you break the coffee machine again?’ Leo asked.

‘That could have happened to anyone, and no one was permanently scarred,’ Robin said, grabbing her jacket—a vintage mustard-yellow leather piece—and slinging it over her shoulder. ‘Wish me luck.’

Robin strolled down the hall, humming a bright, thoroughly out-of-key pop song. As she passed Studio B, she caught a glimpse through the narrow glass panel of a woman in her late thirties with dark, sleek shoulder-length hair and large brown eyes set beneath full, dark brows. Her petulant—though admittedly lush—lips were set in sour concentration as she meticulously wiped down her microphone with a microfiber cloth.

Sienna Vance.

Robin slowed her pace just a fraction. Sienna was the network’s golden child. She had been at Violet for ten years with Dating by Design—a show Robin found equal parts impressive and deeply depressing. Sienna talked about romance the way a surgeon talked about an operation: cold, clinical, and completely focused on avoiding complications.

Robin smiled to herself, shaking her head. She’s like a beautiful brick wall. She was glad that Sienna had such an off-putting personality, or she might be tempted to make a fool of herself there.

She turned and headed for the lifts, managing to get lost on the executive floor for only two minutes—a personal best—before she spotted Gemma’s office. She burst in without knocking.

‘Gemma! Tell me we’re getting the budget for the live-audience Valentine’s special. I’ve already mapped out the balloon arch—’

‘We can discuss that,’ Gemma said, though her eyes remained glued to her screen as she slid a tablet across the dark wood desk. ‘But first, this.’

Robin dropped onto the couch, comfortably tucking one leg beneath her. She glanced at the screen, expecting her usual sky-rocketing chart lines.

The line was rising, yes. But it was just starting to slow at the peak.

Gemma leaned back, folding her hands over her stomach with a weary, affectionate sigh. ‘Your six-month honeymoon surge is settling, Robin. Now, we need to do a bit more. I want to see your show explode.’

Robin raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m down to explode. What did you have in mind?’

‘You. Sienna Vance. Sharing the headlining stage at the WLW Audio Fest next month,’ Gemma said happily.

Robin blinked, picking up the sheet. ‘A joint panel? Me and the human calculator?’

‘A debate panel,’ Gemma said with a smile. ‘The rational host versus our rising star of romance. Live streaming, of course.’

A slow, delighted smirk spread across Robin’s face. ‘And she’ll actually do it?’

‘Yes. She has agreed.’

‘She must be dreading it,’ Robin said happily, leaning back. ‘What happened when you told her? Did she snap a pencil? Please tell me she snapped a pencil.’

‘She needed a nudge,’ Gemma admitted. ‘And if you want that live Valentine’s special budget, I need you to take this seriously. Be prepared. God knows she will be.’

Robin tapped her finger against her chin, her mind immediately racing with possibilities. The thought of going toe-to-toe with Sienna Vance, of watching that icy, perfectly composed facade crack just a little under pressure, was entirely irresistible.

‘Oh, I’ll be prepared, Gemma,’ Robin chuckled, standing up.

And she would be. Though ‘prepared’ meant something entirely different in Robin’s book. She wouldn’t be showing up with index cards or talking points. She was going in with one singular goal: to make Sienna Vance, just once in her perfectly ordered, logical little life, completely lose her cool.

Three

The breakroom at 07:45 AM was Sienna’s sanctuary. It was usually empty, allowing her ten minutes to brew her Earl Grey in peace before the building devolved into its usual morning chaos. She was perched on a stool at the kitchen island, mid-steep, when the door swung open.

‘Oh, brilliant,’ a bright, husky voice called out. ‘I was hoping to run into you.’

Robin Croft breezed in, juggling an oversized tote bag bursting with loose papers and a top-heavy paper cup dripping with caramel drizzle. Her natural blonde hair was a tumbling mess, tucked haphazardly behind one ear to reveal bright, sparkling blue eyes.

‘I wasn’t,’ Sienna replied, a bit too honestly. She was fairly certain that would stop Robin’s obnoxiously good mood dead in its tracks.

But Robin only grinned in response, bringing out a pair of subtle dimples Sienna hadn’t picked up on from the promotional banners.