HIS69-529 Classical Jock

Excerpt

The night DJ moved out and Stan replaced him at the console, first checking the pile of continuity and commercials the young PhD had created during the all night classics-by-request shift. What a waste of a Musicologist. “Another day, another money drain.”

“How are the listener subscriptions coming?”

“Good. You do a lot better on your shift than the demographics would suggest. What do you do, offer your body to your fans over the air.” Stan examined the body. A compact, muscular Latin type. Mundo’s voice was deep and rich. Very sexy, but distant. Stancliff had no hope in that direction. He brushed his hand through his greying cut and envied Rossi his dark locks and even deeper eyes. Bedroom… Washroom… Tearoom eyes.

He swiped out his hand to pat the Latin on the ass, but the DJ avoided him, slipping into his yellow jacket and hiding the “I Like Mozart” T-shirt. Stan had to content himself with a glimpse of the swinging hips and tight ass as the guy left the station.

The studio was on Cedar between State and Rush, the heart of the Gold Coast. Ed pulled up his collar as he saw the debris and dust being swept and swirled in front of the old mansion which housed the WCLS studios on the top floor and Illinois Audio in the basement.

Across the street he noticed a dark blue van with smoke-colored bubble windows on the side panel. He couldn’t see into the van until the occupant rolled down the window. As he opened the door, the driver yelled. “Thanks for the sacrifice, Ed.”

Only the listeners knew him as Ed Ross. A concession to prejudice. His radio name irked him, but then many things did. “My pleasure, Perry.”

The man was blond. The classical DJ liked two things blond men… and blond, hung men. He crossed the street without looking. Not a lot of action at 5:30 on a Monday morning.