Welcome to the first chapter of the new book series by Brigitta Moon.
What do you think of the first chapter?
Midnight Talk
Brigitta Moon
Copyright © 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Chapter 1
The first notes were hammered by the viola. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony echoed over the airwaves, Da Da Da Dum, Da Da Da Dum. Applause and cheers from a virtual audience exploded through the speakers. The french horn, string bass and violin joined in continuing the symphony. The applause, cheers and symphony trailed off.
“Welcome to Midnight Talk”, a silvery voice greeted.
“I’m Adawra.”
“And I’m Candice,” a second exhilarated voice announced.
“We’re anxious to get our topic for tonight started,” said Adawra.
“As usual, I’m here to keep it real,” added Candice.
“Tonight Adawra wants to do something a little different. She wants to start off with a letter,” Candice said snarkily with a head shake and eye rolling.
“Yes Candice, I know how much you disagree with letter writers, but here’s the deal; we have some Midnight Talkers who are afraid to hear their own voices over the airwaves. You know, the shy type. So we’re going to help this one out.”
“I don’t know if we should. If she doesn’t want to talk to us, why should we help her?” Candice asked incredulously.
“Come on Candice. Ease up. Have a heart. Let me read the letter and then we can decide if we should open the phone lines.”
Candice crossed her arms over her chest, “Go on, read all you want, but if she can’t call and ask for help, I ain't helping.”
Adawra smoothed the letter on the desk and read.
Dear Adawra and Candice, I love your show. I’m a dedicated listener. You and Candice are the epitome of advice for us listeners.
“You see Adawra,” Candice interrupted with a deep sigh. “Epitome? Now she is an uptight…”
“Candice,” Adawra screeched. “We’re on the air.”
“Okay, okay. I apologize.Go ahead. Read on.”
For months now I have been trying to get up the nerve to call. I haven’t been able to muster up my confidence. So I figured I would do the next best thing, write a letter. So, here it is. I want to know how to be sure without a doubt that your husband is cheating on you. I don’t want to wrongly accuse him.
The phone line blinked indicating a call. Another line blinked, and another.
“Well Candice,” Adawra said in her smooth, modulated voice, pointing at the flashing lights, lips spiraling out with a smug smile, “from the looks of the phone lines I think you’re out numbered. The Midnight Talkers want to answer.”
Adawra punched the first blinking button, “You’re live with Adawra and Candice.”
“Oh my God, I got through,” a penetrating, eager voice yelled through the speakers over the airwaves. “This is Leslie. I agree with you Candice girl. If she doesn’t want us to hear her voice, why should we help her?”
“Thank you for your support Leslie,” said Candice in her I have won this round voice.
“But since she took the time to write that sorry ass letter, I have a few words for her. Girrrrl, if you think your man is cheating, he is.”
“Thank you Leslie,” Adawra said.
“We need to help out our fellow Midnight Talker Candice. Let’s get some real answers for her.”
“How do you know the letter isn’t from a him since it’s not signed with a name?” Candice asked sarcastically.
“Well she said husband,” Adawra answered in a wary tone.
“Are you saying men can’t have husbands? Where have you been Adawra? Hiding out in the 1800s?”
Adawra ignored Candice. Rolled her eyes to the ceiling, stabbed the flashing button for the next caller.
“You’re live with Adawra and Candice. What’s your opinion?”
“Hey, this is Lisa and I love the way the two of you feud over our topics." She laughed. Ha, ha, ha. "My brother has a husband. I sure hope he isn’t the one who wrote that letter.”
“Thank you Lisa. We have to keep Adawra updated,” Candice said laughing.
“I know men can have husbands,” Adawra said defensively. “I just overlooked that possibility when I read the letter.”
“I have a comment for the letter person. How are we suppose to help her...”
Candice interjected, “or him?”
“Right. How can we help if we can’t ask questions?” Lisa continued.
Candice happily answered, “That’s right Adawra, so how are we suppose to do this? We need to know why she thinks...,”
“or he,” Adawra interrupted.
Candice laughed out loud. Caller Lisa joined her laughter.
“Well we need to know why this letter writer thinks the husband is cheating,” Candice finished.
Candice knuckled a flashing red button. “It’s Midnight Talk time. Who’s with me tonight,” Candice screeched to the caller.
“Hey Candice. Hey Adawra,” the caller heartily greeted the two hosts. “I feel sorry for the letter writer. She’s...,”
“or he,” interrupted Candice.
“Right,” the caller agreed. “I’m right there with the other caller, if the letter writer thinks the husband is cheating, he probably is but the person wants to know how to tell without a doubt. So, maybe you can answer from that perspective.”
“A caller with her thinking cap on. You want to take this one Candice or you want me to answer?”
“Like I told you Adawra, she couldn’t call so I’m not answering her or him or whoever.”
Adawra cleared her throat, “Here is what I think. Our callers are correct; if the person who wrote the letter thinks the husband is cheating, then sadly he probably is. There is no way to tell without a shadow of doubt unless you hire a private investigator or you yourself follow him which is too much work and money and pretty risky. My suggestion is if you have had a long and wonderful marriage, talk to him. Honesty is the best policy.”
“How touching,” Candice smirked. “But right now we have to go to break. Someone has to pay the bills.”
“3,2,1 and we’re clear,” a raucous voice announced.
Adawra leaned back in her high back pink leather swivel chair, kicked of her black strappy sandals, picked up her bottle of Evian, took a sip, “I swear Candice, you are so hard on our fans.”
Candice turned her matching pink leather swivel chair to face Adawra, “So what.” She waved a hand through the air, “Anyway they love that shit. And according to the big boss our numbers are increasing. That’s the only metric that matters.”
Candice rooted through her purse, found her compact, admired herself in the mirror, turned her head right, flicked her black spiral curls back, slid her lips across each other smoothing her lipstick.
“No one is going to see you Candice. It’s radio.”
“I know that Adawra. But you never know who may come in while we’re here. Are we still on for our trip to Baltimore this weekend?”
“Of course, I checked on our flight and hotel. We’re all set,” Adawra answered watching the fingers count down, 3, 2, 1 and the raucous voice, “we’re live.”
“We’re back,” said Adawra. “The call lights are going wild. So let’s open the phone lines for the next caller.”
“You’re live with Adawra and Candice,” Adawra said.
A nasal voice answered, “I love the show. The topics are great. I just want to say that person is spending way too much time wondering if her man is cheating. She should spend her time trying to keep him interested. She probably...,”
“or he,” Candice interjected laughing.
“Alright or he probably doesn’t even bother to spruce up, get a new outfit, new hairdo; maybe even learn some new sex moves.”
“Oh, I like this caller,” Candice said enthusiastically.
“Of course you do Candice. I bet the two of you probably meet up at the hair salon for a new do and gelled nails and discuss the newest sex moves on the top ten billboard,” Adawra said.
“Now that’s just wrong Adawra. We don’t do that. Do we caller?”
The caller answered laughing, “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. We should start a billboard; the top ten sex moves for the week.”
“We may just do that,” Adawra answered.
“So start thinking up some mind blowing sex moves, try em out on whomever and be ready when your assignment is due,” Candice ordered.
“Well, that’s all we have time for tonight, same place, same time next week, be here,” Adawra said.
“And letter writer, if you think that man is cheating, he is. Confront him,” Candice demanded.
“3, 2, 1 and we’re clear,” Lenny echoed in his raucous voice.
Candice stood, stretched her arms to the ceiling, yawned, “I’m going straight to bed.” She unhooked her purse from her chair back, slung it across her shoulder, “Hey Lenny, get security to walk us out,” she called out through the set door.
Adawra slipped her feet into her slingback sandals, sipped the last of her Evian, rubbed her palms across her eyes, “I have got to wake up.”
“Come on Adawra. Our protector is here.”
The ladies walked through the dimly lit, mostly empty office; vacant desks and black computer screens.
“Great show,” Lenny said waving at the women as he gathered his equipment.
Flittering hands in the air in Lenny’s direction, the ladies exited through the door to the desolate hall, their heels clicking with echoes on the bare wooden floor, purses swinging in their hands. At the end of the barren passageway waited a security guard. “Chop, chop ladies,” he called out.
“Hey Buster,” the ladies greeted the short man with the round body, huge red bald spot trimmed with short gray fluff.
“Good morning ladies,” he said placing his uniform cap over his bald spot and opening the door for the women, gesturing them through. They exited onto the lot.
“I heard your show tonight. It was wonderful. Just wonderful and if you need someone to try out those top ten billboard moves with, I’m available,” Buster said in his usual wobbly voice.
The ladies’ strides toward the lot halted. Their heads snapped in Buster’s direction, laughter.
