"Viewer, you’re on with Carolina.” Long pause. Carolina tapped the key on her computer that increased the volume and tried again. Her show’s live format was so new that she hadn’t worked out all the kinks. “You’re on Ask Carolina. What relationship problem can I help you solve today?” “My boyfriend...” The female voice faded back into silence, either intimidated by the idea of being on-air live or distraught enough over whatever infraction the jerk she’d pledged allegiance to had committed. Carolina had plenty of compassion for both. “Honey, tell me about your boyfriend. That’s what I’m here for.” “He’s amazing.” The caller went on to sing praises to his name for several beats. A rare one. Usually they were pretty down on the guy by the point they decided to consult a professional. “We’ve been together for four months, and every second has been great.” “Sounds like a winner. I’m guessing something changed or you wouldn’t have called.” “Yeah.” There came the thread of discord in the caller’s voice. Carolina could sniff it out a mile away. Psychology wasn’t just about what they said. It was how they said it, when they said it, and what they didn’t say. Her job was to figure out the right way to get those things on the table. And then fix it. “The thing is,” the caller continued. “He got a job in Washington. The state. And we live in South Carolina. I didn’t even know he was looking for a new job!” And here we have the crux of the issue in one fell swoop. “Oh, honey, that must have been so upsetting for you to learn that he’d been making plans without talking to you first. That’s not the sign of a man who’s in it for the long haul, is it?” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” the caller wailed. “Why would he deliberately look for a job in another state? And not like Georgia which is within spitting distance. But Washington, which borders a whole different ocean. I mean, it would be one thing if I could easily move, but I own my own restaurant that I spent two years building from nothing...” Carolina stared straight into the camera on her laptop and let the caller air her grievances for a minute because that’s what her viewers tuned in for. Drama. And then she gave them the other thing they craved. Hard-core advice. “Listen to me, honey. This was not an accident. Your boyfriend wants a change, and he went out and found it. Don’t wait for this new job to end your relationship. Take charge of your life and tell him to jump in the Puget Sound because you have better things to do than cry over a loser who’s so spineless, he can’t just tell you he wants out.” “You think that’s what happened?” She sniffed, but Carolina could hear the anger starting to cre ep in. Good. That was what this caller needed. Righteous indignation. That would carry her through the pain of betrayal. “He’s done with me, but he’s too much of a coward to tell me straight out?”
Bingo. But there wasn’t much point in rubbing the caller’s face in it. “I think you’re going to be so much better off without him. Tell him you’re not a doormat for him to wipe his feet on, kick him to the curb and go create a new dish for your restaurant called Spineless Jerk in his honor. I’ll send everyone I know to eat it.” That was one of the great things about having ten million followers— she could gently guide a few thousand in the direction of this caller’s restaurant and set her back on her feet at the same time. Then she’d be too busy to think about what’s-his-name. That was always a good recipe to move on, as Carolina well knew. The caller blubbered her thanks as Carolina wrapped it up, pleased with how that one had ended. The possibility of something going south on a live show had k ept her awake on more than one night, but the new format felt more immediate than the recorded version of her show she’d been doing for a few years. “Caller, you’re on the air with Carolina. What relationship problem can I help you solve today?” “The mystery of why you’re so against men.” Male. Familiar. Dangerous. She registered all of that and more in a split second as the rich voice of the caller rolled through her blood before she could stop it. “Well, well. If it isn’t Two-Buck Chuck, the self-styled love artist himself, calling in to my own little show. My dear viewers, you’re in for a treat. Today is the day I hang up on the man whose advice is worth exactly two dollars. After the bills have gone through the shredder.” Charlie, who had never actually gone by the name Chuck in real life, laughed like a moron, and just as she stuck an index finger over the key on her computer that would disconnect him, he said, “Hold up for a minute, CK. I have a relationship problem. Isn’t that what you do here? Help people with problems?” “I do,” she responded sweetly. Somehow. She hated it when Charlie called her CK, as if addressing someone by their initials was a legitimate nickname. He could have picked Panther, after the Carolina Panthers, and the football reference would have annoyed her less. “But only people who can be helped. Egotistical, arrogant advice show hosts with questionable philosophies need not apply.” “Guess this is going to stretch your abilities, then,” he countered smoothly. He cared not at all about whether she maligned him, his show or his ridiculous premise that women could be won with the so-called tools that Two-Buck Chuck regularly championed on his show. The fact that Charlie’s pickup lines had once worked like a charm on Carolina wasn’t the point. At all. “Since we’ve already established that I’m anti-men, curious why you’d bother calling into my show.” “Because only you can help me. Unless you think you’re not good enough.” “Reverse psychology does not work on me.” Exc ept... it did and he knew it. He’d piqued her curiosity. Just as he’d meant to, and it did not put her in any frame of mind to be civil. But then, nothing could have done that. She’d been totally unpr epared to have a showdown with her ex-husband. Live.
And here she was squirreled away in her condo without a friend in sight. That’s what she got for having to do the live show som eplace quiet. He let the pause drag out, correctly guessing that the dead air would crawl across her last nerve. “Physician, heal thyself,” she said through gritted teeth and forced herself to relax. She had a live camera feed so the viewers could see her, but she couldn’t see them. Most people calling in would rather not be on camera, so she honored that. “Obscure Biblical quotes. I’m impressed. You’ve really brought your A- game to your new live format.” Carolina counted to three, the longest span of silence she could stand. “Lay it down, Charlie, or I’m moving on to the next caller who actually needs my help.” There was no way the host of Two-Buck Chuck had called in to Ask Carolina, a rival relationship advice show hosted by his ex-wife, with any intent of soliciting guidance. “All righty then. It’s come to my attention that some of my viewers are having trouble with their girlfriends because you’re advising them all to leave.” Oh, man. That had escalated quickly. “You should advise your viewers to stop being jerks and treat their girlfriends like respected partners instead of hotrods that just need an extra torque-wrench twist to start running right.” “Touché.” Charlie paused, not because he was at a loss for words, but more likely because he was conferring with the devil on his shoulder. “For the record, I have never instructed my viewers to treat women like cars. The term tools is just a metaphor.” “If we’re done with the English lesson...” Her finger hovered over the disconnect key. But she didn’t push it. This whole scenario smelled funny, and she couldn’t end the call without finding out the reason for it, or she’d stew about it all day. She hadn’t spoken to Charlie in months. Not since the annulment was finalized. And even then, there hadn’t been much talking. What else was there to say? They’d gotten married too fast and ended it too slowly—it had taken the state of Nevada far longer to legalize the annulment than it had to allow the marriage. Irony at its finest. You’d think a place with a slogan like “what happens here, stays here” would have a better process in place to erase a quickie marriage that never should have happened. Especially since she needed it done before he charmed her into something else that wasn’t in the plan. He was good at that—figuring out ways to get her to make dumb decisions just because he’d flashed his cute dimple at her. “The lesson here,” Charlie continued without a hitch. “Is still unfolding. I’ve got a bone to pick with you, and you need to be taught a thing or two.” A bright, hot burst of anger put a smile on her face designed to chill his blood. He wanted to play, did he?
She settled back in her chair. This was live broadcast gold and it wasn’t even Christmas yet. “Oh, I cannot wait to hear this. Please teach me, O wise one.” Her viewers would love a good setdown of the man she’d walked out on. She didn’t just advise them to leave bad situations—she’d done it herself. That’s why they trusted her. “It’s a long-term project,” he said. “One that requires your physical presence. So I can prove my relationship tools work on the queen mother of prickly women herself.” “What are you even talking about? It sounds like you’re asking me on a date so you can try your smarmy pickup lines. On me.” Which was dumb. He’d already had his shot. “If that’s what it sounds like, then I’m not doing my job. Let me start over. Hey, Carolina, you’re looking lovely today.” She rolled her eyes. “If that’s the kind of lame lines you’re gifting your viewers, no wonder they’re up in arms.” “They’re up in arms because they’re not being given a chance to make things right. Listen to my show occasionally before you throw stones. Love can win, if you open your mind to it. Your advice is never to stick it out and see if the guy can change. It’s always get out.” Oh, she listened to his show all right. Only to ke ep tabs on her competition. Not because she missed the sound of his voice sometimes. “Sage advice in almost all situations. Men don’t change anything but their socks.” “You’re wrong. And I can prove it. All you have to do is give me two weeks to show all my viewers that my tools will work. Even on you.” The laugh bubbled up in her throat before she could catch it. Not that she would have. Such a cockamamie idea deserved to be laughed at. “You’re never going to prove that. Why would you even suggest such a ridiculous idea?” “My professional r eputation is at stake. Obviously.” There was a slight undertone to his dark chocolate voice that only someone with intimate knowledge of the man behind it would pick up on. “Try again. Your professional r eputation hasn’t suffered from being a loser in the relationship d epartment thus far. What’s changed?” “Clearly not a blessed thing,” he said jovially like she hadn’t just blasted him for all of America to hear, which was frankly one of the reasons they’d been like oil and water. He never took anything seriously, least of all her. “You’ve still got a razor blade for a tongue. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.” “Which would only be true if I agree to this madness, and I haven’t. Nor will I. I’ve got nothing to prove. Therefore, I have zero reason to continue this conversation.”
She lifted a finger in full view of the camera so he’d be crystal clear that she was a millisecond away from cutting him off. “Tell you what,” he interjected smoothly. “I happen to have a line on a T. V. show. Relationship advice. The producers want someone solid in the host chair.” All of this was starting to make a whole lot more sense now. “So you need to show them your platform isn’t all arrogant preening. Good luck with that.” “I need a great social experiment that will prove I can crack the toughest nut on the planet. My ex-wife. You know you’re curious what I have up my sleeve.” “I’m not the slightest bit curious.” She was. Rabidly. But not enough to actually do it. Subject herself to his signature brand of charm and wit, coupled with a killer body and a smile that could melt asphalt? No. Charlie Wilson was her ex for a reason and he needed to stay that way. He was bad for her sanity. No other man on the planet could have talked her into a Vegas wedding a scant four months after they’d met. And she’d barely es caped that. “Curious enough to strike a bet, though,” he said. This time, she let the pause drag out because he’d just put her in the driver’s seat, and she was not about to give up the wheel. He was the one who needed her, not the other way around. “Here’s the deal,” he said and probably she was the only one who heard the slight note of exasperation. Which made her smile. “Two weeks. You give me that honeymoon we never had. At the end, if you’re not on board with a second chance, you win. I’ll recommend you to the show’s producers to fill the host chair and go about my day.” “Wait, wait, wait.” A throbby, fluttery beat started up in her chest that might be dread. Or anticipation. With Charlie, it was hard to tell the difference. “What you are you saying, we’d get married again?” “That’s the only way this will work. My tools are designed for committed relationships, not casual pickups.” The insanity continued. “So we honeymoon like everything is peachy, you lose, and then what? Another annulment?” “And you get the T. V. show. I’ll hand it over, fair and square.” There was that. It sounded too good to be true. Like she was missing something important. “Why would you even propose something like this? It’s guaranteed to fail.” “Guess you have nothing to lose, then.” Exc ept what was left of her marbles. His nonchalance was disturbing. “Which is why none of it makes a lick of sense.” “Oh, I see your confusion. Ke ep in mind there’s no down side for me. Because I’m going to win.” Cocky as ever. It should be his middle name. And that alone flipped the crazy switch in her head, the one that Charlie Wilson always seemed to have a finger on. She had a feeling that
he’d laid this thing out with exactly that in mind so she couldn’t possibly say no. “No.”