Chapter 8 #2
read. She sounded stilted, like the voice on her app that gave her driving directions.
“They can wreck them, too,” Parker argued, those gray eyes of his flashing. Those same eyes were probably enough to melt a
heart when they weren’t. “We can’t please you women. Maybe instead of ranting about all our faults and burying your noses
in books you should take a closer look at your men and see what’s good about them. These books aren’t helping people in the
real world. Heck, you women aren’t even in the real world with the rest of us. If all a woman wants to do is sit and read
how is that good for a relationship? If she expects her man to spend money on her like he’s a billionaire from a book so she
can feel special, how is that good for a relationship? If she expects him to talk like a romance hero, even if he’s not good
with words, how is that good for a relationship?”
“Come on, Alice, say something!” Lina yelled at the computer, and Bettina groaned.
“I can’t listen,” said Georgia Bishop as she grabbed another muffin from the refreshment table.
“Poor Alice. She was doing so well, and now he’s slashing her,” said Bettina. “This is awful. I knew they shouldn’t have done
this.”
Parker Black’s words were coming out rapid-fire, pelting Alice. Her mother was rattling papers. Her head was going to explode.
“Well, what do you say to that?” he demanded.
Something. Nothing.
Alice put her fingers to her aching temples. “I can’t think.” She was about to add, “Give me a minute,” but he didn’t. No
way was Parker going to even give her a second.
The bumper music was starting, signaling an end to the segment. “Time for a commercial break, dudes,” he said. “And Alice,
since you’re having trouble focusing we won’t hold you over. Go take some time to think about what I said. Nola, I hope you get your voice back, although there’s nothing you could say to change my mind. But hey,
thanks for joining us.”
“Wait, we’re not done,” Alice protested. It did no good. She’d been muted.
And then it was over, and Alice had failed in her mission. She stared at the computer screen where, only a moment before,
she’d seen Parker Black’s smirky pirate face and wanted to crawl inside a rom-com and hide.
Jay the producer came back on. “Thanks for joining us, ladies.”
“You cut me off,” Alice said.
“Sorry. We were up against a hard break,” Jay said. “Appreciate you coming on.”
So Parker could trounce them.
“Leave,” Nola whispered.
Alice got out of there before Parker’s producer could rub any salt in the wound. “That was awful,” she said miserably as she
shut her laptop. She should have been the one who couldn’t talk.
“You did fine,” Nola whispered, and patted her arm.
“Until I didn’t. Mom, I froze. He was coming at me so fast. You were right. We should have canceled. I should never have done this.” Even if she’d had her iPad, she’d have blown it.
“You were the voice of reason, not him,” Nola insisted. “You made some good points, and you got in some good digs.”
“No one’s going to remember that. They’re only going to remember him verbally pummeling me. I thought women are supposed to
speak three thousand more words a day than men. Where did mine go?”
She’d been doing so well, up there on a performance high wire. Somewhere along the way she’d looked down and lost it.
“We made our point, that’s all that matters,” Nola whispered. “And now I need to go back to bed.”
“I wish I could go to bed,” Alice said. And pull the covers over her head. Hide there for about a millennium. But she needed
to get to the bookstore and help Bettina.
Actually, the bookstore was the best place for her. The books were her comfort, and the bookstore was her fort. She needed
to retreat behind the safety of its walls.
A win! Yes. Not as easy a win as Parker had anticipated. Alice Willoughby was smart and gutsy to come on the show. He hated
to admit it, but she’d scored some points. Just not enough. Game, set, match to Parker.
Still, he was finding it hard to savor his win, thanks to the image of Alice Willoughby looking all shocked and flustered
that had burned its way into his mind.
It was a debate, he reminded himself. You either win or you lose. That was how debates worked. That was how sports worked. That was how life worked. There was no reason to feel like . . .
a jerk? No, not a jerk. He refused to feel like a jerk. No one had forced those women to come on the show.
The commercial break ended, and he pulled his thoughts back in line.
“Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s talk sports, dudes, which is why we’re really here,” Parker said into his mike.
“Who thinks this could be the year for our Mariners? Last year was their best offense ever and they came so close to winning the World Series. Think they can make it happen this season?”
There came his first caller for the new segment, Brian from nearby Tacoma. “I think they got as much chance of getting into
the playoffs as I do of getting my woman to go to a game with me. I do all kinds of stuff she wants to do.”
Oh, boy, here they went back into rant mode. Parker was sick of ranting and sick of talking about women. He had shifted gears,
hoping to get back to something he understood. And he wanted to scrub the image of Alice Willoughby from his brain.
“Well, Brian, all I can tell you is don’t give up,” Parker said, and lost Brian from Tacoma. “I think our Mariners have got
a chance. Who’s going to meet me at spring training this year and check out the team? Remember, those tickets for our big
bash are almost gone.”
A few more calls trickled in, and Parker carried the rest of the load until the end of the program. He kept the Let It Out
segment short and sweet, reading from another sports romance where the author praised a football player for his big heart,
calling him a modern-day gladiator.
“We all know what happened to the gladiators, right? They were just there to fight and die and give the crowd a show of blood.
Is that what our Seahawks are, guys? Hey, wish we had time to take your calls, but the clock is ticking. Gotta go. See you
all tomorrow. Meanwhile, keep your head in the game.”
And that wrapped up another show. And he should have felt much better than he did. Downright triumphant in fact.
“Great show!” Jay enthused, resettling his ball cap on his head. “You hit it out of the park on the debate, man. You crushed
it.”
No, he’d crushed Alice Willoughby, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore because he felt like a bully. And he didn’t want to feel like a bully. She got some pretty good digs in, too, he reminded himself. It didn’t help.
“Yeah, well, that’s over and done,” he said.
“Hey, maybe they’ll want a rematch.”
Parker frowned at Jay. “No. No rematches. At some point we need to phase out the romance novel reading. It’s getting stale.”
“Are you kidding? It’s a great angle and it’s bringing in the listeners. Anyway, I thought you were on a mission.”
“I am.”
“And men need a place to vent. You’re their fearless leader right now, their shrink.”
Parker frowned. “Yeah, right.”
“Serious, man. This is working, so, let’s ride this horse until it drops.”
Parker sighed inwardly but nodded. “Okay, I’ll stick with it for a while longer.” He just hoped the horse wouldn’t fall on
him.
Alice arrived at the bookstore to find her loyal supporters waiting to console and encourage her. And, of course, everyone
was buying books. Pity purchases. Ten percent off wasn’t that big of a discount.
“Thank you all, for your support,” she said, smiling at them. “I just wish I could have done a better job defending romance.”
“You did fine,” Lina said.
“Yes, you did,” Georgia Bishop agreed, and gave Alice a chocolate muffin.
She took it and thanked Georgia, but she didn’t eat it. After the mess she’d made of the debate she’d lost her appetite, even
for chocolate. She took it to the back room where she dumped it in the garbage and then shed her coat.
“That Parker Black is a bully,” said Bettina when Alice returned to help ring up sales.
“Well, it was a debate,” said Georgia.
“I thought I could take him on, but I couldn’t,” Alice said. She and her mother had been nothing more but a couple of female
Don Quixotes, tilting at windmills.
“He’ll get what’s coming to him at some point,” Bettina predicted.
“You should get revenge,” said Lina, warming up to the idea of the man getting what was coming to him. “Send him some of Georgia’s
cookies with Ex-Lax in them instead of chocolate chips.”
“And get sued,” Bettina said, sounding as horrified as Alice felt.
“Time wounds all heels,” Georgia said. “You just wait. I bet an opportunity to get even will arise.”
“I won’t take it,” Alice said. She wasn’t about to indulge in petty revenge. Although the idea of Parker Black getting his
just deserts did appeal.
“Well, you did your part,” said Georgia. “You got your message out, and we all love you. And mark my words, you’ll get more
customers after this.”
“Georgia’s right. Parker Black will eventually get what’s coming to him,” said Bettina.
Maybe he would, but Alice was going to ignore the further adventures of Parker Black. She was going to forget she ever saw
him.
Yes, she was.
Those eyes. They were . . .
Never mind about his eyes. Or any other part of him. She was wiping him off her internal hard drive.
And later that night she’d have a hot date with her book boyfriend. Fictional men were the best.