Page 81 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

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The first person Olivia ran into at the station was Matt. Refusing to greet him, she stood and waited for the elevator in silence. They rode up with three co-workers who could barely contain their curiosity. The two men slapped Matt heartily on the back, and she suspected if she hadn’t been present they would have congratulated him as well. The woman in the car just looked on pityingly, before averting her gaze. It was chillingly reminiscent of the kind of reaction she’d gotten when word of James’s cheating had gotten around, and too much like the glances she’d given her own mother when she’d played the doormat for Olivia’s father.

She and Matt traversed the endless hallway to T.J.’s office under continued scrutiny. Conversations died and movement ceased as each person they passed took time out from gossiping to study the objects of their speculation.

Was it her imagination, or did Matt seem to walk taller with each step as she shrank ever lower in embarrassment? She fanned the flames of her anger and told herself it didn’t matter. Already she was trying to formulate the words she would say during tomorrow’s show to square things with her audience. Assuming she still had one when this meeting was over.

Outside T.J.’s office, Matt took her arm and pulled her around to face him. Onlookers fell silent as they strained to listen.

“I didn’t set you up, Olivia. I was just as surprised as you were when I looked up and saw that we were on camera.”

Olivia jerked her arm out of Matt’s grasp. “Right. Well then, that solves everything, doesn’t it? And your whole campaign to help me relax had no motive other than improving my quality of life? Come on, Matt. This is me, Olivia, remember?”

“Oh, I remember all right. Maybe better than you do. And I’ll admit that I did think throwing you a bit off balance might be helpful. But that was only at first, before ...”

Olivia’s thoughts turned back to the meals he’d cooked for her, the TV shows he’d introduced her to, the spirit of fun he’d brought to their captivity—all of it a calculated effort to put him in the winner’s circle.

“Before you decided to get me—how did that reporter put it—flat on my back?”

“Olivia, I didn’t—”

“And I suppose it wasn’t you who told everybody about Chicago? Did you tell them how you had me flat on my back there, too, until you decided you were finished with me?”

“Olivia, believe me, I didn’t—”

“I’d have to be a fool to believe anything you said to me now. And despite all appearances to the contrary, I’m not a fool.” She turned her back on him and stormed into T.J.’s office.

T.J., Charles, Ben, and Diane were already waiting. Olivia sat next to her producer, while Matt took a seat next to Ben, the battle lines clearly drawn. No one spoke as T.J. flipped through the folder on his desk. “So,” he inquired casually, “did either of you rest?”

“It’s kind of hard to do that when your phone is blowing up,” Matt drawled. “And then I made the mistake of actually scrolling the comments on Instagram.” He turned to Olivia. “There are memes and videos and a ton of commenters that want us to come clean and tell all.”

Olivia’s gaze dripped scorn as it met his.

“Don’t worry, I’m only a little tempted,” Matt deadpanned.

“Yes, well, I don’t think we need anyone telling all at this point,” T.J. interrupted. “I thought you both did a good job of not telling all this morning. Why don’t we just let everybody keep wondering until Charles works out a promotional plan.”

Olivia tried to imagine her listeners putting up with that. Her heart sank every time she thought about her audience’s reaction to the whole ugly mess.

The AJC article and the social media attention just made it worse. Even if their numbers ended up statistically too close to call, Olivia knew this was going to land mostly on her. Matt’s show was all about him being a cad, but she was a dispenser of advice who couldn’t control her own actions, a talk radio therapist who didn’t know how to deal with men.

Diane and Ben fidgeted in their seats, and Olivia envied their energy. She felt too tired and heavy to move, though her brain continued to function at warp speed. Matt looked calm and unconcerned, though she knew him well enough now to know it was just a pose. Crankower somehow seemed even more starched and haughty than usual.

T.J. closed the folder and began. “Bottom line,” he said, “this promotion has been a huge success.”

Charles preened like a peacock. He stood and took a brief bow before T.J. continued. “Matt and Olivia are actually getting national attention from this. Plus, we know the numbers are going to be great, which means new advertisers will be tripping over themselves to sign on the dotted line.”

Olivia leaned forward in her chair. “But what about the listener preference research? There’s no way my listeners are okay with what happened between ... well, what happened.”

"No, they’re not. Your credibility has suffered, and your core audience is wavering,” T.J. said. “They haven’t tuned out, yet, but they seem to feel betrayed and angry. Sixty percent of your P1’s have lost trust in you and your advice.”

Olivia clenched her fists. She was dying to stand and pace. “And you consider this a success?”

“Yes.” T.J.’s smile was blinding. “I know you can get them back, and you’ve more than offset any potential loss with new listeners. You picked up P1’s who already consider WTLK their station of preference but hadn’t listened to you before, and 95 percent of P2’s responded favorably toLiv Live. It won’t take much to turn them into a P1 audience.”

Matt asked, “What aboutGuy Talk?”

“You’ve come out of this smelling like a rose. Your P1’s are totally with you, and 85 percent of P2’s responded positively too.”

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