Page 61 of Bless This Hot Mess

Emma-Lou blinked, “Wait. Who’s calling? Who’s faxing? We only get press releases from that one persistent talent manager on the fax.”

“Listeners,” Carrington said simply.

Suwarna’s usually calm façade cracked in surprise, “Listeners?!”

“Listeners!” Carrington nodded, then added with a flourish, “and advertisers.”

Emma-Lou nearly stumbled, “Advertisers? Stop it. Is this a joke?”

“It’s no joke,” Carrington said, sounding smug. “The switchboard is on fire. I don’t normally answer the phone because it’s not in my job description…”

Suwarna interjected smoothly, “As head of HR, I will remind you, itisin your job description. That’s literally your job. Along with the filing and all the paperwork I don’t understand.”

Carrington ignored her, “...and because it’s normally bill collectors. But today? I was just feeling spicy, and I thought, Carrington, you’ve had two gentleman callers this week and one of them is bound to call you for a date. And if you don’t pick up the phone just because you’re afraid of a tax person or a debt collector, you just might miss the best thing that hasn’t happened to you yet.”

“Do you normally take personal calls at work?” Emma-Lou asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Yes, they do,” Suwarna clarified.

“Soooo, I start answering calls and even though no one is inviting me out for dinner at Chuck’s Roadhouse and Grill followed by an enthusiastic conversation about the angst and disillusionment of the characters inEmpire Recordswhile we happen to find ourselves parked at the Napanee Conservation Area waterfalls…” Carrington explained.

“So romantic at night! With the lights on the falls?!” Suwarna gushed.

“I know! So, even thoughthatdidn’t happen–we’ve had more listener calls than… Well, ever. And I have the credit cards for four, well, now five advertisers who want to buy spots during the Trinity Radio Hour.” Carrington shook their head in disbelief, “I took a gamble, I answered the phone and we’re being rewarded!”

Emma-Lou pressed a hand to her chest, her voice barely above a whisper, “This is an answer to our prayers. We can clean that mob money!”

Suwarna nodded, tears suddenly welling in her eyes, “You’re not going to disappear, Emma-Lou!” She reached over and hugged her boss tightly.

Carrington, now emboldened, grinned, “Sure, my suitors haven’t called yet, but this is shaping up to be averygood day at WWJD.”

Emma-Lou pulled back from the hug, still processing, “What exactly is Trinity doing that’s getting people this excited?”

Carrington leaned forward conspiratorially, “Well, there’s been tap dancing.”

Emma-Lou blinked, “Okay…”

“And some basketball dribblingaccompanyingthe tap dancing.”

Emma-Lou’s brows furrowed further, “Okay…”

“And then Rebekkah sang a song about how God is a woman. And that’s really when the phones started ringing.”

Emma-Lou froze, “What?!”

“Obviously,” Suwarna nodded, looking from Carrington to Emma-Lou and back again. “You both knew that right?”

“No! No, no, no!! We’re going to be ridiculed! Roasted! What is she doing?” Emma-Lou planted her palms against Carrington’s desk, breathing in heavy gulps.

“She’s saving the station, Emma-Lou,” Carrington said firmly. “People love it. Want to listen in?”

Emma-Lou nodded slowly, as if bracing herself for impact, “Yes.”

Carrington reached for a button on their desk, turning up the lobby speakers just as the station’s DJ announced, “And we’re back withTrinity Radio Hourfeaturing the banter and bops of Rebekkah, Ronald, and Japheth!”

From the speakers, Rebekkah’s voice rang out, exasperated yet playful, “So, like I was saying, whydon’tdresses have pockets?”