Chapter 9 #3
I am.”
Nola let out a frustrated breath. “We probably don’t have much of a case since he claims they’ve taken down the meme.”
“Then eventually it will fade away,” Alice said and hoped she was right. She moved to where Nola sat at her desk, crowded
with paperwork, and hugged her. “Please don’t feel bad. I’m the one who made the mess. I’m the one who insisted on going through
with the debate, not you. And for a while there I was really kicking it. I felt like . . . Wonder Woman. Felt like I was really
something.”
“You were and you are,” said Nola.
“Pride goes before a fall,” Alice said, turning fatalistic. “Maybe there’s a lesson in there somewhere that I’m supposed to
learn. But thanks for being fierce on my behalf. You’re the best.”
Nola just shook her head sadly. “I should never have accepted that invitation to debate. My hubris did this to you.”
“No, Parker Black and his henchmen did this to me.”
Alice hoped she was right when she’d predicted that the nasty meme would fade away.
But even if it didn’t, she was determined to let go of her angst. To never again see or talk about Parker Black.
He would be banned from all further conversations, especially on their podcast. Men like him fed on that angst and she was going to starve him to death.
Except as they were interviewing a local author about her new rom-com, there he came, Trojan-horsing his way into their podcast.
“You both do so much for romance,” said Desire Jones, their guest author. “And I just want to take a minute to thank you for
championing our books.”
“We’re happy to,” said Nola. “It’s why we’re here.”
“And Alice didn’t deserve to be bullied the way that Parker Black did when you went on his show.”
Alice could feel the sizzle on her cheeks. Yes, she liked doing her podcast looking like an overripe strawberry. He is a bully, and next time I see him I’m going to hit him over the head with a hardbound copy of The Kiss Quotient.
Don’t say that!
Alice cleared her throat, preparing for a less violent response, but nothing came to mind.
“He’s misguided,” said Nola. “But we all know how important romance novels are, don’t we?”
“I certainly do,” said Desire enthusiastically.
“And didn’t you write this book when you were on bed rest with your second baby?” Alice asked her, returning to their scripted
questions.
Desire beamed. “I did. I kept imagining myself in Rome and wondering what it would be like to see the Trevi Fountain in real
life. Then I got to thinking, what would happen if someone accidentally fell in the fountain? And the story just took off
from there.”
“That is a funny scene,” Alice said. “I love how the hero just happens to be there, filming a show about stupid things tourists do. Have you ever done anything embarrassing as a tourist?”
Other than a family trip to Disneyland when she and Scarlet were kids and a trip to Victoria, Canada, to celebrate her graduation
from college, Alice hadn’t ever been a tourist. How she’d love to see that famous fountain in Rome. Maybe someday she’d get
to go there, and not simply in her imagination.
“Not yet, but I’m sure I will,” Desire answered with a laugh.
“I love how you kept that enemies to lovers trope fresh,” Nola was saying. “Is that a favorite trope of yours?”
“Oh, yes. There’s nothing like a battle of the minds and the wills to make sparks fly.”
There came Parker Black again, settling in and putting his feet up on Alice’s hippocampus. Would you please get out!
“And I do love to see a misbehaving hero get a good humbling,” Desire finished.
Wouldn’t that be nice? It was too bad things didn’t work out in real life the way they did in fiction. Seeing Parker Black
on his knees, begging for forgiveness—publicly, of course—would be so satisfying. Maybe so would turning that into a meme.
Let him repeat over and over again, “I have the blackest heart. I deserve your hate.”
“It’s been lovely to talk with you,” Nola said. “For our local readers, we have plenty of signed copies of Love in the Ruins on hand, and we do ship anywhere in the US. I know all of you who enjoy a good rom-com are going to love this one.”
And then it was time to say goodbye and sign off.
“Thanks again for having me,” Desire said after they’d ended the podcast and it was only the three of them. “Your store is
so wonderful, and I really do love how you both champion writers. You need to know we’re behind you all the way. And some
of my friends and I have been talking about a We Love Alice campaign.”
It wouldn’t get rid of that awful meme, but Alice was touched by her kindness. “Thank you,” she said.
“We do love you guys, and we all love HEA. We have to stick together and be there for each other,” Desire said, impassioned.
“Yes, we do. And we love supporting authors like you. Be sure to let us know when your next book comes out. I know you’re
going to be a star,” Nola told her.
“Thanks to bookstores like yours,” said Desire.
“I hope what Desire said helps,” Nola said to Alice after they’d left the virtual studio. “I felt like we lost you there for
a while.”
“I was fine until she mentioned Parker Black,” said Alice. “I truly think I hate that man. He’s evil.”
“He’s certainly no choirboy,” said Nola. She laid a hand on Alice’s arm. “I’m sorry you took the brunt of his meanness. If
I could go back in time, I’d postpone that debate.”
“It’s not the debate. It’s what he did afterward,” Alice said. “Putting up that meme was uncalled-for. And just plain cruel.”
And really, it didn’t help telling herself nobody knew who she was. Somebody was bound to recognize her at some point. She
was never one to seek the spotlight and it was horribly ironic that she’d been thrust into one in such an ugly way. The thought
made it hard to keep back the tears.
“The meme wouldn’t have happened if I’d protected you.” Her mother’s eyes were glistening with tears of her own. “That awful
man! I’m so sorry, darling.”
“Mom, please remember, none of this is on you. I wanted to debate him.” Wanted to be bold, step in and save the day. Stupid
her. She could have lived with getting trounced. That was what happened in debates. Someone won and someone lost. But the
humiliation that had followed. “How could someone be so cruel?” she wondered.
“I don’t know,” said Nola, “but I can tell you one thing. You are now a true heroine.”
Alice’s brows pulled together. “Because I’ve been made a fool of?”
“Because you don’t deserve to be made a fool of, because you’re better than what happened to you. ‘She’s tolerable, but not
handsome enough to tempt me,’ ” Nola quoted. “Poor Elizabeth Bennet. How many generations have read that slam in Pride and Prejudice? In the end Mr. Darcy redeemed himself, but he’ll never totally be able to live down his boorish behavior.”
“Well, it’s too bad Mr. Black and I aren’t fictional people. Then he would get what’s coming to him,” Alice said, and brushed
away an errant tear.
“Who’s to say he won’t? And trust me, his boorish behavior is being noted all around the country.”
So was Alice’s frazzled moment. Being a heroine was very, very overrated.