Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger

That accusation rankled, but he wasn’t going to argue who had screwed up whose life in the first place. He’d win that battle. But that was ancient history. He did feel slightly bad Megan was catching flak—and that he’d been unaware of any of it. Regardless of his reputation, he wasn’t completely heartless. Even when it came to her. “I didn’t know. I’ll try to do some damage control, if you want. Make it clear that we were so long ago that nothing of us is part of the book.”

Her shoulders dropped. “It’s a start. But I doubt it will help.”

Old frustration edged its way back in. “Then exactly what do you want me to do?”

* * *

The question hung between them in the dim stockroom, and Megan didn’t have an answer.

Anger and indignation had brought her this far and now she regretted giving in to either emotion. So much for “positive confrontation.” All those “I” statements—I think, I feel—she was supposed to use in this situation had evaporated under the heat of her emotions. Good God, if Dr. Weiss had heard that outburst … She cringed inwardly. She’d be sent back to Psych 101 to start over again. The outrage drained away, leaving her feeling hollow and foolish.

It was a familiar feeling. One she didn’t like.

She just hadn’t been properly mentally prepared to see Devin again. Face-to-face, at least. She’d debated taking this internship simply because Devin was so famous, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the same town. But an internship at the Weiss Clinic was too prestigious to turn down over an ex-husband. Not in a town this size, where she was practically guaranteed to never run into him.

Then she’d moved here and his picture was all over town: on the sides of buses, on billboards, in magazines. Devin’s I’m-up-to-something smile was everywhere. It was wreaking havoc on her psyche, but she’d learned how to ignore it—for the most part.

But all that practice hadn’t prepared her to be in the same room with him. Alone. His long, lean body took up way too much space, and her nerve endings seemed to jump to high alert. Devin appeared to suck up all the available oxygen in the room, leaving her with nothing to breathe except the unique scent of him that she—and something inside her—recognized immediately. Those liquid brown eyes, the way his dark hair curled just slightly behind his ears … Those hands—oddly elegant for a man who oozed testosterone from every pore—brought visuals she didn’t need right now.

It was terribly unfair to discover that after all these years Devin still had an effect on her—especially when she obviously had no effect on him at all. Her inner eighteen-year-old was stuttering and stammering just being this close to him, and it irritated her to no end.

And now she’d stormed in here and acted exactly like some kind of crazy ex. And considering how reasonable he was being … She wanted to go hide under a rock for the next five years or so. She might recover her pride and get over the embarrassment by then.

Devin repeated the question, and the exasperation in his tone drove home how ridiculous she was being.

I should have listened to Julie.

“Well, Meggie?”

You could start by not calling me Meggie. It caused another one of those heartbeat stutters and brought back memories she was doing her damnedest to suppress. But the question did deflate the last bit of the outrage that had sent her storming downtown to confront him. She sighed and dropped her shoulders in defeat. “I don’t know. I guess that’s all you can do. Eventually my fifteen minutes will be up, right?”

Biting her lip, she reached deep inside for a bit of the professional behavior she’d lost in her tirade. Without the anger and indignation fueling her, she felt foolish. And Dev’s proximity was just too much. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place, so I’ll go now.” A small laugh at the absurdity of the situation escaped her. “I won’t say it was nice seeing you again, but at least I can offer you my congratulations on your success in person.” There. She could end on a less embarrassing and slightly more mature note.

Dev nodded, but he had the oddest look on his face—rather as if he was concerned she wasn’t all there mentally. She couldn’t really blame him for that. “Bye, Dev. And good luck.” She held out her hand.

Seeming surprised and not bothering to hide it, Devin took her offered hand. Damn it. His touch caused her fingers to tingle, and it took all she had not to jerk her hand away.

“You, too, Meggie.”

Pulling herself together by force of will, she released his hand and refused to look back as she walked away. She pushed the door with a little too much force, causing it to swing wide. That annoying agent jumped back to avoid being hit.

“Eavesdropping? Really? Lovely.”

Manny had the sense to look a little abashed at being caught, but then he shrugged and grinned. It was a fake, practiced grin, and she wasn’t the least bit fooled by it. Or by the false friendliness that followed. “You know, you really shouldn’t take any of this personally. It’s just showbiz.”

She pretended to think about that statement. “Showbiz. Yeah. Well, for those of us who didn’t sign up for it, it sucks.”

Much like her life at the moment.

CHAPTER TWO

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS under the covers and more ice cream than any adult should ever eat hadn’t solved anything. Megan didn’t feel better about any of it. And now her stomach hurt, as well.

She was tired of hiding in her apartment, mainly because seeing Devin had awakened every old repressed memory, causing her to relive their entire history. She was a complete mess now, thanks to him.

When the phone rang, again, she flipped back the quilt to check the number. No name. Damn. Not answering wasn’t an option, since it could be a client calling. They all had her cell-phone number in case of an emergency. She mentally crossed her fingers, then immediately felt bad for hoping one of her clients was having an emergency.

“Dr. Lowe?”

“Speaking.”

“My name is Kate Wilson. I’m a producer—”

She sighed. “No comment. Goodbye.” The press was driving her crazy.

“Wait! Don’t hang up, please.” Something in the woman’s voice caused her to pause. “I’m Devin Kenney’s producer for Cover Your Assets.”

That’s why the voice sounded vaguely familiar. She’d heard it on the radio the once or twice she’d tuned in to Devin’s show—strictly for research purposes, of course. “And I still have no comment.”

It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. She’d spent hours trying to come up with the perfect comment. One that would be pithy and quotable yet shut down any further questions. Sadly, such a comment did not exist.

“I understand your reluctance, but please hear me out. I’m not looking for a quote or a story.” The woman laughed. “That’s not my job.”

Megan focused on the water stain on the ceiling and prayed for patience. “Ms. Wilson, I’m extremely busy today, so—”

“So I’ll get to the point. I understand you’re getting a lot of unwelcome attention from the media right now.”

That was an understatement.

“I don’t know how much you’ve dealt with the media in the past, but I do know one way to get this circus under control.”

That would be too much to ask, especially since this woman worked for the media—and Devin. Therefore her offer to help sounded suspicious at best. “And that would be …?”

“You beat them to it. Put yourself out there in a way you can control.”

“Ms. Wilson—”

“Call me Kate.”

“Kate, I’m really not interested in doing interviews or anything of that nature.”

“Exactly. That’s why I think you should come on Devin’s show.”

What part of “no interviews “does this Kate not understand? “I’m sorry, what?”

Excitement oozed out of the woman’s words. “You could tell your side with Devin right there to corroborate the truth of the stories. You could take questions, even, and end the speculation. If you show that you and Devin aren’t on opposite sides—and that you two think it’s a nonissue—that issue will no longer be interesting. Problem solved.”

That sounded way too good to be true. Too easy. “What makes you think anyone would—”

“Dr. Lowe, you have to know the fact you’re a marriage counselor and Devin is a divorce attorney is the stuff blogs eat up. It just feeds on itself, and the more that’s not said about it just gives rise to more speculation.”

“I am aware of that.” Blindingly aware, she thought as her eye began to twitch again.

Kate seemed to miss the sarcasm. “Then come on the show tomorrow night. You and Devin can address this issue head-on. Get the truth out there and end everyone’s curiosity.”

It couldn’t be that easy. Plus … “I’ve never done anything on the radio before.”

“Don’t worry about that. You have a great voice, and Devin and I can walk you through the specifics.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should talk to Devin first.” Oh, the thought made her stomach hurt again.

“It’ll be great for Devin’s ratings, too. I think a lot of folks will tune in to hear you two sort things out. And think, you could become the most popular marriage counselor in Chicago. It would probably increase your patient list.”

Something didn’t quite feel right. “Why didn’t Devin call me himself with this grand idea?”

“He’s in Atlanta today for a book signing and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

It was tempting. Very tempting. Except for the talking-to-Devin part. And the being-near-Devin part. That hadn’t gone so well yesterday. She cringed again.

Kate did have a point about taking control instead of being pushed along. And wasn’t she always telling her clients to act instead of react?

But the radio? Devin had a coast-to-coast audience. She wasn’t the same wallflower she used to be, but still … Who wouldn’t be nervous at the idea of being heard by that many people? The possibilities for humiliation were huge.

But if it went the way Kate seemed to think it would … Maybe she could shut this down before it got any bigger and get back to work. Put Devin out of her life once and for all.

“Dr. Lowe? If this is going to work, we need to jump on it now. Before it gets any bigger.”

Megan took a deep breath. “Then I guess I’ll come on the show.”

“Wonderful! You’ll need to be here by six so I can brief you. Do I need to send a car for you …?”

Kate rattled off questions and instructions, but Megan was questioning her sanity and barely heard them over the sound of her head gently banging against the headboard.

Devin made the mistake of heeding Megan’s advice about reading his own press just as his flight began its descent into O’Hare. He put his seat and tray table in the upright position, stowed his electronics and changed to printed media to occupy the last few minutes of the flight.

There, on the front of the entertainment section, in type large enough to be read from Coach, was a promo for tonight’s show.

And Megan’s name was right next to his.

What the hell?

According to this, tonight’s very special guest would be his ex-wife, Dr. Megan Lowe. His surprise at Megan’s doctor title was quickly swamped by the news that she was coming on his show.

Whose bright idea was that?

He reached for his phone, only to remember he couldn’t use it. Waving over the flight attendant, he asked, “How long until we land?”

“Hard to say, Mr. Kenney. There’s a bit of a line and we’re going to have to circle for a while. I’ll let you know when we get an updated ETA, though.”

He didn’t know who to call first when they landed—Kate, Manny or Megan. Scratch Megan, since he didn’t have her number. This stunt reeked of Manny’s machinations, but Kate could’ve had a hand in it, as well. They were probably in collusion to drive him insane. Ratings and money: the two things Kate and Manny could be guaranteed to jump on any possibility of.

He shifted in his seat as the pilot announced the delay to the rest of the passengers.

How had they talked Megan into this idea? She had a fear of public speaking. She hated being the center of attention. Their small, family-only wedding hadn’t been all about finances—Megan just couldn’t face the idea of being the focus of that many people. She was an introvert, uncomfortable outside her zone.

That protective instinct that had appeared out of nowhere yesterday swooped back in again. The feeling was both familiar and odd at the same time. He’d been trapped by that feeling the very first time she’d turned those huge baby-blue eyes on him, awakening some caveman instinct to protect and shelter her from the big, bad world.

But it should be long gone by now, beaten down by the way she’d walked out on him, buried by her selfishness and immaturity….

There was the feeling he was used to getting on those rare occasions Megan crossed his mind. That older instinct had just been shaken loose by the surprise at seeing her the other day. That twinge of guilt he’d felt at the bookstore had been easily tamped down, even as several tenacious reporters had questioned him about their marriage in interviews yesterday. He’d evaded the questions as much as possible.

Megan wasn’t a part of his life. She needed to go back to whoever she was and whatever she did when not crashing his book signing. She certainly wasn’t relevant to his career.

And he sure as hell didn’t want her on his show.

No man should have to deal with his ex-wife on a national platform. What drugs were Manny and Kate on to even consider it?

He should fire both of them.

And he just might, if this plane ever hit the tarmac and he could use his phone.

The high-rise building that housed Broad Horizons Broadcasting looked like any other office building on the Chicago skyline. Megan wasn’t sure what she’d expected when the shiny black town car had pulled up at her door earlier to ferry her downtown, but she didn’t feel as if she’d been brought to a radio station. It looked rather more like an insurance company or something. She thanked her driver as he held her door, feeling a bit like a celebrity herself from his deferential treatment.

As she walked into the building and read the company listings on the wall, she stifled a laugh when she saw the building was, indeed, an insurance company. And an investment firm, a law firm and several other things on different floors. She signed in at the front desk, and the elderly security guard’s eyebrows went up when he read her name and destination.

“You’re not what I was expecting, Dr. Lowe.”

She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “You were expecting me?”

“Ms. Wilson told me to send you straight up to fifteen when you arrived.”

Ms. Wilson. Kate. Not Devin. She still hadn’t heard from him, although Kate had promised to pass along a message for him to call her. They went live on the air in less than an hour, and she’d like to talk to Devin before then. They needed ground rules, a plan of action…. And she needed to be sure she had worked past all those stammers Devin seemed to cause in her before she made a fool of herself on air.

The guard walked her to the elevator bank. “I have to release the floor for you. Otherwise you’ll have to go to fourteen first.” At her look, he elaborated. “It’s a security measure for the hosts and their guests.” He inserted a key, pressed the button and gave her a friendly smile as he stepped out and the doors closed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” she answered, but the doors were shut and the elevator lurched upward. Megan tried to tell herself that the sinking feeling in her stomach was caused by the swift ascent, but she wasn’t a very good liar. Especially to herself.

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, she stepped out carefully. Once again she hadn’t been sure what to expect, but so far, Broad Horizons looked a lot like every other corporate-type office she’d ever seen—gray cubicles, fluorescent lighting, sturdy carpet and the faint lingering odor of coffee and microwave popcorn. Most of the cubicles were empty, and the quiet of the post-five-o’clock workday had already begun to settle.

She stood there, feeling rather foolish and unsure what to do.

“Dr. Lowe!”

She recognized the voice as Kate’s and turned. Like everything else, Kate was completely not what Megan had expected. Tall and willowy with long black hair that curled in perfect unruliness around her shoulders, Kate looked like a supermodel. Someone that beautiful should be on TV, not hiding on the faceless radio.

At the very least, she should be sharing a couple of Dev’s billboards.

Megan felt plain and frumpy—and rather underdressed in a simple skirt, tee and cardigan. Kate looked as if she belonged on a catwalk.

A perfect smile nearly blinded her as Kate extended her hand and introduced herself. “I’m so glad you’re here, Dr. Lowe. Tonight’s show is going to be fantastic.”

I’d settle for not horrific. “Why don’t you call me Megan?”

Kate nodded before she indicated Megan should follow her through the labyrinthine offices. She had to trot to keep up with Kate’s longer strides.

“I have to admit, Kate, you’re not how I pictured you.” Realizing how that might sound, Megan tried to clarify. “Your voice, I mean. It seems like you’d be—” Yikes. That sounds even worse. “I mean …”

Kate laughed. “I understand. No one looks like you think they should once you’ve heard them on the radio.” She shot Megan a sly smile. “Except for Devin, of course. People expect a panty-ripper when they hear his voice, and he doesn’t disappoint.”

“Excuse me, a what?”

“Panty-ripper. You know, the kind of man you’d rip your panties off for.”

Megan stumbled slightly over her own feet. She couldn’t quite argue with that statement, but she certainly wasn’t going to agree out loud. Hell, she’d been guilty of some panty-ripping on more than one occasion…. She stopped that train of thought. Ancient history.

Kate continued talking, thankfully unaware of the heat stealing over Megan’s face. “But that’s the key to Devin’s cross-demographic appeal. The men like his content, and the women like his package.” She winked. “What’s the saying? Men want to be him and the women just want him.”

Did Kate want him? Was there something going on between Dev and his beautiful producer? Megan told herself it was strictly professional curiosity, but that didn’t explain the little pang in her stomach. “So where is he? Did you give him my message?”

“Devin’s plane was delayed and he’s been frightfully busy all afternoon. He must not have had a chance to call. But you’ll see him shortly.” Kate held open a door for her. “We don’t have a Green Room or anything, but you can hang out here for a few minutes and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to start prepping you.”

Prepping? That sounded as if something painful was coming. Megan wished she had a clue what went on at a radio station.

As the door closed, she realized Kate had left her in a break room. Table, fridge, couch, coffeepot—it could have been in any office anywhere, except for the pictures on the walls. She assumed many of them were on-air personalities, but she didn’t recognize their faces. Except Devin’s, of course. She did, however, recognize the people they posed with—sports stars, celebrities, politicians. Dear Lord, was that the vice president shaking Dev’s hand?

The realization hit her a little too late. Some of America’s most popular and controversial talk-radio shows broadcast out of this very building. Possibly using the same microphones and everything she was about to use. It was a little intimidating.

She settled on the couch and ran a hand over her hair. A snort escaped. She was going to be on the radio; it didn’t matter what she looked like since only a few people would see her.

And one of those people would be Devin. It wasn’t vanity or wanting to look good for him that sent her digging for lipstick. She was about to go talk to thousands—possibly hundreds of thousands—of people. She needed to feel confident. Even if they couldn’t see her, the confidence of knowing she looked decent would come through in her voice.

It had nothing to do with Devin.

Hard on that thought, the door opened. Expecting it to be Kate, she finished with her lipstick and dropped it into her bag before turning.

Devin stood there, a slightly mocking look on his face. “It’s radio, you know. No one can see you.”

Do not take the bait. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, as well.” Pleasure might not be exactly the right word, since her stomach felt a little unsteady as he closed the door behind him, but at least her voice sounded normal enough to her ears.

Devin acknowledged the small slam against his manners with a mocking nod. He didn’t seem happy she was here. Was he regretting inviting her on the show? Holding a grudge for her behavior the other day? He crossed to the fridge and took out two bottles of water. Handing one to her, he confirmed her earlier feeling. “I can’t believe Kate convinced you to do this.”

“Kate made some very valid points about controlling the press and putting the proper spin on things.”

“Kate would sacrifice kittens on the air if she thought it would improve our ratings.”

“So your plan is to sacrifice me?” A dread settled in her chest. Had she just walked into an even bigger disaster? Was this going to make things worse?

He shook his head. “This isn’t my plan. Not by a long shot. I only learned of this bright idea as I was landing at O’Hare today. I’ve had to rearrange several things to accommodate you.”

“Accommodate me? Kate said—” Damn. She should’ve … “Why didn’t you return my call? We could have avoided this.”

He shrugged. “The publicity was done. And I’ve been a bit busy today.”

That remark reminded her how busy she wasn’t at the moment, thanks to him and his stupid book. “I can imagine. A radio show, a book tour—it must be exhausting. How do you find the time to practice law?”

“I don’t. Much.”

“What?” That seemed impossible. Dev loved the law. Loved the tactics, the arguments, the logic required. Way back when, he’d spend hours explaining the nuances of a case or a statute to her, and his passion for law and justice had been one of the things she’d loved about him. She’d been floored to hear he’d ended up a high-priced and notorious divorce attorney, but to give it up altogether?

“My name may be on the door of the firm, but it doesn’t mean I’m on every case. That’s what partners and paralegals are for.”

“Do you miss it?” The question was out before she could stop it.

“I don’t have time for that either.” She wanted to respond to that, but Devin rushed ahead. “Sounds like you’ve done pretty well for yourself, Dr. Lowe. You became a psychiatrist after all.”

“Clinical psychologist—” no thanks to you “—but you’re close enough.” As was she—just a few more months and she’d be official.

“And is it everything you hoped it would be?”

She could hear a small undercurrent in his voice that made her wonder if he was trying to pick a fight. No one else would notice it, but she knew that tone all too well for it not to send her hackles up. She lifted her chin. “And more.”

“Good for you.” He finished the bottle of water in one long drink and tossed it into the recycling bin.

Megan battled with herself. She’d sworn she wouldn’t let her temper or her emotions control her and drive her to say or do anything that remotely resembled that debacle at the bookstore. She knew he was needling her. Intentionally. “Dr. Lowe” recognized that and knew how to handle it both properly and professionally. “Meggie,” though, wanted to smack back.