Stay Tuned

Chapter 19

At home, I added a few ideas to my grand re-invention plan. Joe would help, I assured myself. He was on my side. I dialed his number.
    
His gravelly voice answered on the third ring.
    
“It’s Melissa. Sorry to bother you on a weekend.”
    
“Hey, aren’t you off today?” Joe lectured. “That means not thinking about work—”
    
“I know, I know. Can’t help it,” I protested. “I have a big favor to ask.”
    
“Anything for you, dear.”
    
“All righty.” I paused, and then let the words spill out. “I’m coming into the station to look at some demo DVDs, that is, if Drew didn’t throw all of them away. I have to try and find some anchor candidates.”
    
Joe gave an, “Mhm,” and continued to listen.
    
“But in the meantime, until we find someone, I need some help. Could you meet me at the station later?” I hesitated. “I need to brush up on my anchoring before Monday night. I’ll bring goodies. Coffee from The Daily Grind? Anything you want.”
    
“You’re not worried about this, are you?” Joe teased. “I mean, I know how you like things to go right…”
    
“Er, no. I mean yes. A little.” I scrambled for the right words. “But, I want to look professional and don’t want to embarrass anyone. I want to be comfortable on set.” I paused. As comfortable as a person can be when he or she is thrown into this weird, awkward situation. “And I trust you. To give me some pointers, I mean.”
    
“I’ll be damned,” Joe coughed and cleared his throat. “Someone wants my opinion…”
    
I held my breath.
    
Joe was a gruff guy, way underappreciated. But he knew his on-air talent. “If that’s what you want, count me in,” he said. “Give me an hour or so.”
    
I hung up with a flash of panic. An hour to get ready, stop at The Daily Grind, and get to the station. Thank goodness for new clothes:
 
Form-fitting jeans, a black top, cropped jacket. Very nice. Now, for the rest of it. I lined up all of the little pots of MAC makeup and tried to touch up what Candace had done. Subtle changes from my normal routine made all the difference, she had reminded me. A touch of creamy-white on the brow bone. Darker lips. Light eyebrow pencil.
    
Not bad, I nodded at my reflection. Not bad at all.
    
The last thing my nerves needed was a shot of caffeine, but I couldn’t resist ordering a caramel latte when I arrived at The Daily Grind. The manager, Dino, a small, wiry man from Italy, and a teenage girl bustled behind the counter. The delicious aroma of coffee beans, steamed milk, and cinnamon permeated the air. Instantly, I perked up.
    
I waited in line patiently, glancing over at the couples chatting over mugs of hot, steamy drinks. From the doorway, a man with a build like my husband caught my eye and smiled.
    
Unnerved, I blushed carnation pink and shifted from foot to foot.
    
“Do you have the time?” Another man in front of me, dark and thin, turned abruptly and caught me off guard.
    
“Um, sure.” I fumbled the sleeve of my new jacket up to find my watch and looked up at the stranger’s green eyes watching me. “Just after three-thirty,” I offered, then stared at the floor.
    
“Don’t I know you?” he began, and then stopped. “Sorry. That didn’t sound right,” he grinned, making his eyes crinkle up nicely at the corners.
 
I turned a darker shade of pink and shook my head. The teenage girl behind the counter tapped her pen impatiently, directing her glare at me.
    
“You’re next,” I pointed out gently, trying to ignore the glowering looks from the other customers. The Daily Grind natives were apparently more caffeine-deprived than usual.
    
“Sorry,” the man apologized to the people in line behind us. “You distracted me,” he winked and whispered before turning around.
    
I glowed warm inside at the compliment, then made myself focus on the thick, moist slices of coffee cake behind the glass. Aside from the calories, at least coffee cake couldn’t get you in trouble. If this flirting kept up, I’d never make it to the station on time.
    
“Excuse me?” A male voice prompted me. Here we go again. I braced myself to brush off any attempts at casual conversation, deep, sexy eyes or not.
    
“Ma’am?” the voice repeated in a familiar polite tone. “Pleeze, can I help you?” I wrenched my eyes to the counter.
    
Dino, with his weathered smile, waited for my order.
    
“Caramel latte, grande, low-fat milk, please. Four tall coffees. All to go.” I stopped and checked the shelves behind the glass again. “A dozen chocolate chip cookies, six poppy seed muffins, also. That should do it.”
    
He nodded and busied himself with my order.
    
“How are you, Dino?” He looked up again. This time, his eyes flickered with recognition.
    
Dino clasped his bony knuckles under his chin. “Mees Meelissa. Es you!” Dino laughed and clapped his hands. “Bellissimo. You are be-you-tiful.”
    
“Um, t-thank…” I stammered.
    
He didn’t stop there. “Audra,” he called to the wisp of a teenager behind him as he busied himself with my latte. “Come, look. Mees Meelissa.” Hands in the air, he gestured at my new look, tracing my face and shoulders with his hands. “Ah, your eyes sparkle.”
    
Audra gave me a dutiful once over, smiled blandly, and went back to making cappuccino. Obviously, I didn’t have the same impact on teenage girls, which I later rationalized was a positive thing.
    
Dino stood mesmerized, my to-go cup in hand. Audra almost bumped him out of the way with the coffee carrier.
    
“Thanks. Could I please have the cookies and muffins, too?” I smiled apologetically. “We’re working a little overtime…and my friends are really looking forward to the sweets.”
 
With a sweeping bow, Dino set the latte on the counter, put the coffees in a carrier, and bagged the goodies. I handed him two twenties, told him to keep the change.
    
Behind me, Dino blew kisses.