“Yes, I do. I think I know exactly what you’re thinking, sweetheart.”
But she’s not responding to my schtick anymore. “I think there’s something more to you than this womanizing playboy persona you have on the radio. Am I right about that?”
Suddenly, she’s not laughing anymore, or volleying any more sexy banter.
Struggling to right this crashing aircraft, I pull up. “Who says I’m a womanizer? And a playboy?”
“Everyone. Literally everyone. In fact, I’m looking at the station website right now and those words are in your bio.”
Mental note: Change my bio. And then throttle whoever wrote that garbage.
“Millie. I can’t tell you why right now. But it’s important to me that you understand I am not a lothario. I love and respect women.”
“I know,” she says. The smile in her voice has returned. My breathing calms. What kind of a ride is she taking me on here? “I’ve listened to you for years and I’ve read all your books. You might be a major flirt on the air but your advice is sound, you treat everyone with kindness, and you’re pretty funny, too.”
Coming from some people, her words might sound like hero worship, which I’ve never cared for. But from her, it feels as necessary as water. It’s not my ego that feels good when she says stuff like that, but some other part of me that wants to make her feel as special as she makes me feel.
“Well, let’s not get carried away. I’m not that awesome. Back to you. Tell me about your dating experiences.”
“Well, like I said, my three older brothers pretty much scared off any guys who came sniffing around. My dad was a pastor but left the family when I was a teenager. He wasn’t the best example of how a man should treat a woman. He wasn’t abusive or anything, but always had a comment about my clothes or what I ate or the way I talked. Nothing I said or did was ladylike enough for him. After he left my mom for his church secretary, I guess I rebelled by eating things he never allowed me to eat. I never slept around because I guess the fear he’d instilled in me kinda stuck.?
??
I’m shaking my head and trying not to crack my knuckles in response to all of this. “First of all, you’re a human being. You are built to eat good food and have good sex. Our bodies are designed for these things to bring us pleasure and a little bit of happiness in this fucked up world. Oh god. Sorry.”
Reagan is freaking out in the sound booth, but she’s got a hair trigger response for that dump button.
Millie gasps and laughs, but I reassure her that’s what the seven-second delay is for.
“But I probably shouldn’t let that happen again or the station manager will be on my ass.”
Millie laughs again, and it’s different from the nervous, breathy Millie from a few minutes ago. It’s high and tumbles through the line like the sounds of a wind chime. She empowers me to continue. My listeners for some reason love it when I talk shit about the boss. “Actually, no, he won’t be on my ass because he’s at home asleep on his overpriced mattress, a gift from one of the advertisers that my show brought in, thank you very much. Did I get a fancy mattress? No, I just get chewed out every night by him for speaking the truth.”
She continues to laugh. I’m so proud I could thump my chest like a gorilla. Alpha male cause female to make happy sound.
I don’t thump my chest. Instead I turn the focus back on to Millie. “Tell me about some of the dates you’ve been on.”
She takes a deep breath.
I can already tell I’m not going to like what she has to say.
Chapter Four
Millie
“The truth is, I’m surprisingly boy crazy for someone so shy,” I tell him. “I’ve been set up on plenty of blind dates with guys who I thought were very attractive. But it never ends well. One of them asked me how long I was going to stay with my dead-end job, not even bothering to ask me if I actually enjoy my so-called dead-end job. Another time, someone set me up with a doctor and I thought we were getting along. Then he told me what I think is actually a clue as to why I rarely get asked on second dates—he said my boobs were too big. So, I’m open to having breast reduction surgery, because I wonder if that might boost my confidence when I’m on a date. What do you think?”
“Do they cause you any medical problems? Back pain, et cetera?”
“No.”
“Well then, he’s an idiot. You’re perfect the way you are.”
I blush so deeply I’m thankful that Dr. Dave can’t see me right now.
“Dr. Dave, you can’t see them. They really are too big.”
“I can assure you that’s not a thing unless they cause you discomfort. He’s a dipshit.”