Chapter 23 #2
“How about saying you’d like to live in the real world with a real man who doesn’t always get everything right?”
“I haven’t known enough real men.” Oh, no. Had that just come out of her mouth? She tried to douse the fire on her face with
more of her drink. It didn’t work.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’ve never been in love,” she confessed. There, she’d said it. “I sell books, I live books, I talk about books. Mostly with
women.” Okay, now she sounded like a Fannie Failure. “I do know what a good man in real life looks like though. My father
was one, and he and my mother were crazy about each other. They laughed together and dreamed together and supported each other.
I’d come in the kitchen sometimes and catch them sharing a kiss while the potatoes were boiling over on the stove. It was
sweet. He was sweet. Who wouldn’t want something like that?”
“You won’t find it in books,” Parker said. It was not said gently.
“Maybe I won’t ever find it in real life, either,” said Alice.
“I haven’t. And I’ve played this game twice.”
And now he had more than one hurt stacked up inside his heart.
He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he continued with his argument. “There are good men out there, men who want to get it right
without being nagged and made to feel like less.”
“I don’t nag anyone,” she protested.
“Then maybe you’re one of the good ones.”
“And how about you?” she asked. “Are you one of the good ones?”
“I’d like to think I am. Okay, not all the time. And, yeah, I started something that’s blown up bigger than I thought it would.
But I call it as I see it. And I can’t be all wrong, not with the reactions I’ve been getting. I think I hit a nerve.”
“You hit more than a nerve on me,” she muttered, thinking of the awful meme. “And on our bookstore,” she added. “Your strike
was—”
“Again, not my idea. Jay thought it would be a great publicity stunt. Our program director made him take it down from the
website, but some tool ran with it.”
“That was my brother-in-law,” she said with a sigh. “He’s been your most loyal follower, which didn’t do their marriage any
good.”
“Are you saying I wrecked your sister’s marriage?”
“They both did their part,” she said, “but you helped. Mark was the one who started the Facebook page for the strike.”
“I figured that out,” he said, and frowned.
“I know you know a lot about sports but is it possible you don’t know as much as you think you do about women?” she suggested.
“Who does?” he retorted, and she heard the sourness in his voice.
“Maybe you’ll know us better by the end of the week,” she said.
He studied her a moment. “Maybe I’d like to get to know you better, Alice,” he said softly, giving her the shivers. “Have you ever wondered if we might have been friends if we’d met
under different circumstances. Earlier in life?”
“Would we have been the same people?”
“Good question. I’m not sure. I don’t think I would have been. I fact, I know I wouldn’t because I wasn’t. In my twenties I was . . .” He shook his head.
“Happier?” she guessed, and he shrugged. “Are you fun when you’re not . . .”
“Being obnoxious?” he supplied. “I think so.”
Their waiter came and took their orders. Once he left, Alice returned to her line of questioning, wanting to know what that
different, younger Parker Black had been like. He shared about his life growing up, about his mother and how his uncle had
always been there for him.
“Which is more than I can say for my sperm donor, who left her when I was a baby,” he added with a shake of his head. “I guess
anyone looking for proof that men are rotten would hold him up as Exhibit A.”
“But your uncle would be Exhibit A for the defense,” Alice pointed out. Then sobered. “What would you be?”
Their salmon arrived. “Remains to be seen, I guess. Let’s eat.”
They did, and it felt as if a lot of debris had been swept aside, as if maybe they could move forward without tripping over
it. As if maybe, they could be friends. He shared about his short-lived career as a pro ballplayer, and she told him how she
got involved with the bookstore and about the weekly podcasts she did with her mother.
“I love how you smile when you talk about your life,” he said. “I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Maybe it’s time you started smiling,” she said. “Or making a life you can smile about.”
“You’re not going to expect me to smile when I’m doing time in your bookstore, are you?” he teased.
“Maybe,” she teased back.
“If I do, it will be through my tears,” he cracked. “They’re out to get me.”
“Just deserts,” she murmured.
He sat back in his seat. “Maybe you’re right. Speaking of dessert, would you like some?”
“I think I’ve had enough,” she said.
She’d definitely had enough of their personal détente. It felt strange leaving their past unpleasantness behind and talking
like potential friends instead of enemies. And it made her nervous. Parker Black was a heartbreak waiting to happen, but her
heart didn’t seem to understand that. It wanted this dinner to be more, the beginning of something special.
The way he’d talked, maybe it could be.
He pulled out his phone. “Okay, then, we’d better talk about the show. I know Jay’s met with you but I’ve got some suggestions
for tomorrow as well. Let’s go over them and then I’ll text them to you.”
Back to the show, yes. This was what they really were, two people thrown together and forced to make the best of it. This
was a good reality check. For a moment there, she’d almost wandered into Fantasy Land. Now they were back where they belonged.
No more personal sharing.
Which was just as well. Alice was already fighting off physical attraction to this man. She didn’t need to start bonding with
him emotionally. He was not a candidate for love. Too wounded. Too angry. Too different.
“How does that sound?” he said.
She jerked her attention back to the subject at hand. “That sounds good.” Whatever that was.
“My uncle will be with you again,” Parker said. “He’s promised to come in for the next two days.”
“It’s really nice of him to help me out,” she said.
“He’s a nice guy. Most of us are if you give us a chance,” said Parker.
Give Parker a chance? Alice didn’t dare.
The waiter was back to see if they wanted dessert. “Are you sure?” Parker asked Alice.
She shook her head. “No. I should get going. I have a busy day tomorrow,” she added with a little smile. “I need to get to
bed.”
Get to bed. Don’t go there! He was the last man on earth Alice would want to go to bed with. She was holding out for a book boyfriend to come to life.
Anyway, she was into books, he was into sports. They really had nothing in common.
Still, he found himself offering, “How about tomorrow you come over to my place? I think you need an education,” he teased.
Her eyes got big as an owl’s eyes. “An education?”
“On movies. I can show you a sports one.” He’d picked up bits and snatches of the show on his phone and knew about the sports
movie suggestions, and he liked the idea of showing one to Alice. “Maybe if you were to watch a couple you might see why I
love what I do for a living. When I’m talking about sports,” he clarified.
She cocked her head, considering. “I like movies.”
“Well, there you go,” he said. That settled it.
“All right. How about this? I’ll watch some sports movies if you’ll read a romance novel,” she countered. He opened his mouth
to remind her that he’d been reading romance novels on his show and that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place,
but before he could speak she added, “All the way through. Didn’t you buy your mother’s at the book signing?”
“Read my mom’s book?” She might as well have suggested he stick his head in a bucket of mud and take a deep breath.
“You can skip any parts that make you uncomfortable,” she said, “But honestly, there’s nothing very racy in it. I would like to watch a sports movie,” she added softly, her cheeks turning pink.
What the heck. It would make his mom happy if he read her book. It was past time.
“Okay,” he said. He held out his hand. “Shake on it?”
She smiled and nodded and held out her hand. It was small. And felt soft. And she pulled away before he was ready to let go.
Their waiter arrived with the check.
“No,” she said firmly as Parker reached for it. “Separate checks, please.”
The waiter looked questioningly at Parker.
“You need to see that not every woman wants to take advantage of men.” She smiled up at the waiter. “Right?”
“The lady is always right,” he said.
Which made her laugh. “Not according to Parker Black,” she teased as he left to separate the bill.
“You know, you’ve got a mouth on you,” Parker said. And stupid him, right then he wanted to kiss it.
They paid their bills, and he walked her to where her car was parked.
“That was a nice dinner,” she said.
“You think we’ve reached a truce?” he teased. “Tell me you at least believe me about the strike.” A man shouldn’t have to
go before a female firing squad for something he didn’t start.
“I do,” she said.
Good.
“But I also believe you could have come out and done something to stop it.”
Ouch. He could have called that hitting below the belt, but she wasn’t. There was truth in what she’d said.
“I guess I could have. You gonna hold that against me forever?”
Why would it matter if she did? A few more days and they’d both go their separate ways and never see each other again. He
frowned at the thought.
“It’s a little hard to let go of,” she admitted. “That and other things.”
He didn’t want to think of the other things.
“But people can change,” she added softly.
“In books,” he joked.
“Maybe in real life, too. Maybe in real life, just like in fiction, we all have a character arc.”
“A character arc,” he repeated.
“We all can learn from our mistakes and grow. Everyone deserves a chance to do that,” she added. Then she unlocked the car
door and prepared to get in.
“Good luck tomorrow. I hope my listeners learn a thing or two from you,’ he said. Maybe he was. She smiled and he returned
it. “My house tomorrow. Six thirty?”
“Six thirty,” she agreed.
“I’ll text you the address along with my show notes,” he said.
She nodded, murmured a good-night, then got in her car and shut the door.
He stepped away, watched her back out of the parking spot and drive off. What was it about Alice Willoughby that insisted
on creeping under his skin? Her looks, her determination, her spunk, for starters.
He went home, pulled out his mom’s book and got busy reading.
And before he knew it, it was midnight, and he wanted to read just one more chapter. What was happening to him?