LOVE ‘EM(55)

“Well, here we are, folks. The week before Valentine’s Day. If you recall, I had a guest duo on not long before Christmas, one of which is a love expert who’s written this fantastic book titled Decoding the Man in Your Life.” I hold up a copy of the book. “Ms. Ronnie Fitz, whom I dubbed Love ‘Em, is a brilliant young woman, and we’re very lucky to have her with us again this evening.”

I move to the edge of the curtain. Offstage, Ronnie wrings her hands. Her hair curls wildly about her head. The red dress compliments her skin. And she’s carrying our baby. She’s fucking gorgeous.

My breath catches. I can imagine how beautiful she’ll look carrying our child. How amazing her tits will be when she’s breastfeeding.

I hold out my hand, hoping she’ll take it for more than just a trip to the chair on stage. Ronnie looks at the floor as she comes toward me.

My smile kicks up a notch as she lays her hand in mine. I whisper, “No tripping into my arms this time?”

She bites her lips instead of smiling. I want to bite those lips again too—soon.

I escort Ronnie to her seat and take my own.

I pull out my note cards, tapping them on the desk to straighten them.

I look into the camera positioned in the center aisle. “Now, I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical when first introduced to Ms. Fitz’s concepts and theories.”

“However, over the last few weeks, I’ve come to appreciate the wisdom within these pages.” I turn to Ronnie as I tap the cover of the book.

Her eyes are wide, her mouth a bit agape. I wink with the eye not facing the camera.

She gives a slight shake of her head and smiles. “Wow, that’s high praise indeed. Thank you for having me on the show.”

I run my finger across her name, where it’s imprinted on the cover of her book. “Since you’re here and we’re so close to the big day for lovers, let’s talk a bit about traits women should look for in their future mates.”

“Jackson, I’m so glad you brought that up.” Her voice is—wrong. She folds her hands together over her knees and looks into the camera on my left. “Actually, I’ve been doing a bit of thinking lately about those positive traits.”

A sense of foreboding sinks into my stomach like an egg settling into an old nest, starting to rot. “And what have you been thinking?”

I want so badly to grab her by her shoulders and kiss those full lips, drag her off stage, and put all of this behind us.

A twinkle comes into her eye—somehow this doesn’t seem like a good thing. “The thing is, women need to not only know what to look for as far as positives, but they also need to be aware of some negatives that they should avoid in a long-term relationship.”

I pop open the button on my jacket and adjust it as I lean forward, propping an elbow on the edge of the desk. “Negatives?”

She nods. “Yes, for every positive trait, there’s a negative one that is every bit as important. Wouldn’t you say?”

I smile at the camera and lean closer. My jaw clenches, and I say under my breath, “This isn’t where I wanted this conversation to go.”

Ronnie gives me a look like she’s talking to a dimwit. “Well, sometimes things won’t always go your way.”

Then she turns to the audience. “Wouldn’t you ladies like to know what traits you should avoid like the plague?”

The ladies in the audience go wild. I shoot Eric, the producer, a look. He lifts his hands in a shrug.

Looking into the camera, I say, “And we’ll find out about those, right after this commercial break.”

Once I get the signal that we’re off the air. I turn to Ronnie. “What are you doing? We agreed to discuss the positive traits.”

She pats my hand. “I know. But since it’s my book, I decided it’s just as important to bring to light some of the things women should be careful of. I mean, no one wants to hook up with someone only to find out that they don’t have the same values.”

“Values?” What values?

“Oh, do I have a second or two to go pee before we’re back on the air?”

I slump and wave her offstage. “Ninety seconds.”

Ronnie hops up and dashes away.

“Be careful of the cables,” I call after her.

She’s avoiding me. I know it. She didn’t want to tell me why she sandbagged me, so she feigned bladder needs. I move to shake hands with a few audience members. Smile and nod. Shake. Smile and nod. Shake.

Eric signals me, so I leap onto the stage and take my seat. My foot taps as I wait for Ronnie to reappear. As Eric starts the count-down, she slips into her seat.

“Whew, that was close.” She smoothes her dress and straightens her shoulders.