Chapter 19
Nola and Alice did their pre–Valentine’s Day podcast, starting with reviews on the Valentine-themed books they had in the
store. That fell to Alice, and she had three novels to review. “That one was my favorite,” she said after she’d talked about
the last novel. “I love a good enemies-to-lovers story.”
A vision of Parker Black popped into her mind. If ever a man qualified as an enemy, it was him. But there would be no moving
from enemies to lovers for them. Even if he ever changed his wicked ways—which he wouldn’t—he still wouldn’t pair up with
her. He’d pick someone who looked like a supermodel. After all, like called to like.
They moved on to how readers could celebrate love with the men in their lives.
“Very handy that Valentine’s Day is falling on a Saturday this year, which gives you lots of time to celebrate,” said Nola.
“So, Alice, what suggestions do we have for our readers?”
Alice picked up the list they’d complied.
“This is a fun one. How about a Valentine treasure hunt? Pick several stores for your man to visit and pre-purchase a little gift for him at each. Those can be anything from socks to his favorite candy. Golf balls from the pro shop, Ping-Pong balls or tennis balls from the sporting goods store. Bring the clerks in on it and have them save your presents for the next day. Then write out some clues and number them. You can go with him and make it feel like a car rally.”
“Then, after he’s found all his treasures, take him to a nice restaurant,” put in Nola. “But don’t stay for dessert. You will
be dessert.”
“And make sure you have something fancy laid out on the bed, so he knows what’s coming,” said Alice. “You can also do a variation
of this and send him on a hunt to find you that will end up at the restaurant where you’ve made reservations and are there
waiting.”
“If your Valentine isn’t into games, you can still make the day fun for him by texting him messages,” Nola said.
“You mean sexting?” Alice asked. As if she’d ever sexted anyone in her entire life.
“I’d suggest PG rated flirting. Make sure no one else sees his phone,” Nola cautioned.
“Those candy bouquets are fun, too,” Alice said, moving down their list. “Get one delivered to his office.”
“Or have it waiting when he walks in the door,” Nola added. “That way he won’t have to share it with the other men, who will
all be jealous.”
The comments were coming in.
Love this! . . . You two are so clever . . . Alice, are you going to be doing any of these?
As if Alice had a man in her life. She’d never said one way or another, but some of their fans simply assumed she did. All
those recommendations. She felt like a fraud.
“I’m going to be pulling out a romantic movie,” she said, going for an indirect answer.
“There are so many good ones, like To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.
Then there are the classics like Pride & Prejudice.
And Sabrina. I love the remake. Although all of those movies are probably best to watch with your friends on Galentine’s Day. ”
A new comment came in. From Scarlet. Right there for everyone to see.
There’s going to be a strike on Valentine’s Day. Men are going to refuse to buy their women anything and they’ll be picketing
right in front of your bookstore.
Alice read the comment. Blinked. Read it again. In front of the store? She looked to her mother. What should we do?
“Well, now, this is news to us,” Nola said.
Scarlet messaged.
It was just announced on Facebook. Come tell Cupid he’s out of business. Beer o’clock after. Everyone make sure your man isn’t
going to be there. If he is he doesn’t deserve anything for V-Day.
Lina was watching and was quick to comment.
If your man isn’t picketing, be sure to reward him real well.
“I’m sure all of your men know better, book girlies,” said Nola.
A reader named Marina posted a comment.
I’m worried my boyfriend is going to strike. What should I do?
Both Alice and Nola sat in silence for a moment. How to answer that?
Nola was the first to speak. “You celebrate love and happiness anyway. You know what the song says, you can buy your own flowers.”
It was the perfect answer. Maybe Alice would buy herself some flowers.
“Oh, and don’t forget February 15, chocolate at fifty percent off day. If your man doesn’t come through with a box of candy,
plan to pick up a bargain,” Nola said.
Yes, bargain chocolate. Even if a woman didn’t have true love, she could at least have chocolate.
“And now, we are out of time,” said Nola. “We hope you’ll all have a wonderful Valentine’s Day. And if you’re looking for
fun reads, come on by the store. Alice will help you find the perfect book.”
Yes, Alice was good at that. If only she knew how to find the perfect man.
Scarlet called their mother as soon as Nola and Alice signed off. Nola sat listening patiently, then said, “And what do you
expect me to do?”
Alice couldn’t hear, but she didn’t have to in order to know her sister was on a rant.
“I told you that you needed to fix things with Mark. You still do. The strike is obviously going to happen no matter what,
but you can still find a way to induce him to not participate. And no, I don’t have any suggestions. I wish I did. Just take
some time to think about what you want the rest of your life to look like, darling. Maybe you and your sister can brainstorm,”
Nola added.
Right. Alice was such an expert on love. “I don’t know what she should do.”
Nola listened some more, then finally said, “You know I want the best for you. I love you.” And that ended the conversation. She turned to Alice. “I want the best for both of you. Sometimes I wish I had a magic lamp.”
“Maybe you do. You made my dreams come true,” Alice said.
“Yes, you have an ideal job. I just wish you had an ideal life,” her mother said.
“I do,” Alice insisted. “I’m perfectly happy.”
“Well, happy anyway, but I think you’re still a ways from perfect.”
“What are we going to do about the strike?” Alice asked, switching to the most pressing matter.
“Nothing. There’s nothing we can do.”
“But right in front of the store. Saturdays are busy days for us,” Alice said.
“We’ll be fine,” said Nola. “Don’t worry.”
“I’ve got good news,” said David Fox, Parker’s literary agent. “We’ve got a bidding war going on your book.”
Parker’s writing debut, the playbook to help men stand up for themselves and stop getting manipulated by women. He still believed
that message. He was living proof that women weren’t the only ones who suffered in a relationship, that sometimes the shoe
landed on the other foot. He should have been excited, Super Bowl win excited. Instead, he was ambivalent. No one ever won
a game being ambivalent.
Except this wasn’t a game. It was a mess, and he was the one who made it. He wished he’d never issued that challenge on his
show, wished he’d never done that debate. Wished he’d never met Alice Willoughby.
No, that wasn’t accurate. He wished he’d never met Alice Willoughby under the circumstances they’d met. Too late now.
The final thought put him in a sour mood for the rest of the day.
Alice couldn’t shake her uneasy feeling come Valentine’s Day. “I feel like someone put a target on us,” she said as she and
her mother and Bettina watched while men began to gather in front of their store like buzzards.
She took in the protests on the picket signs. Cupid is a scam . . . She can pay this year . . . Romance Kills Wallets. “We’re cooked.”
“Those fools are the ones who’re cooked. They aren’t going to be getting any love tonight,” Bettina predicted.
“I suspect they already weren’t,” said Nola. “We are looking at a collection of angry divorced men and single men who can’t
keep a girlfriend. And the sad thing is, it’s not that hard to keep a woman if you’re good to her.”
Alice caught sight of the hefty man with the blond hair wearing jeans and an old letterman jacket. No more pink handcuffs, read his sign. Oh, no.
She touched her mother’s arm and pointed.
“Oh, Mark,” Nola said, her voice filled with disappointment.
Et tu, Mark? If Scarlet saw this, it was all over for him and Rest in Peace would be stamped on the divorce papers.
“Pretty clever sign. Is he smart enough to do that on his own?” Bettina asked.
“Yes,” said Nola. “He hasn’t been smart about anything else though. But then neither has Scarlet.”
Two more men had joined the picket line. Alice recognized one as Parker’s producer. She looked up and down the street. Where
was Parker, the evil mastermind? There was no sign of him.
The men were starting to march along the sidewalk and chant. It came through the plate glass window, muffled.
Alice cracked the door to hear better and the wave of sound came at her. “We’re cool and chicks don’t rule.” It was mixed
with laughter. This was all a big joke to these men. She shut the door in disgust.
“Don’t they understand what this is going to do to businesses in the city who depend on this day to make money? I mean, these
men all must have jobs,” Alice said.
“But they’re probably not business owners. In fact, probably some of them are union men. They’re familiar with the concept
of a strike,” Nola said.
“Strikes are for higher wages, better working conditions. This isn’t accomplishing anything,” Alice said in disgust.
“Other than making a statement to their women,” said Bettina.
“Ex-women,” Nola corrected her as more buzzards arrived.
“Don’t they need a permit?” Alice asked.
“As long as they’re not obstructing traffic, I don’t think they do,” said Nola.
“Well, they’re obstructing traffic to the stores on our block,” Bettina said, scowling.
Oh, no, here came the crew from KOMO TV. This would be on the evening news.
Parker was in hiding. He’d meant what he said to Jay. No way was he going to join the strike. He let Jay’s call go to voice
mail.
One minute later, Jay called again. And again, Parker ignored it.
On the fourth call he picked up and demanded, “What?”