Page 43 of Just Another Silly Love Song

“Great,” Heather said. “Thank you. It would mean the world to me and might even help others who are faced with tough choices. Pick whatever you want. I like your taste in music.”

“It would be a pleasure and I’msureDr. Tough Love doesn’t have a problem with that, right?”

She knew I wouldn’t say no after I made Heather cry. There was no way I was going to look like a heartless bastard, even though I would rather give myself a purple mohawk and poke my eyes out than listen to the entirety of one of those silly love songs.

My sidekick was a smart woman, but she was beginning to piss me off.

I gritted my teeth and forced the words out. “Of course not. Thanks for the call.”

After disconnecting the call, I waited for Lori to start my session of three to five minutes of pure hell. “Nothing like a little dead air.”

“Hang on and thanks for your patience. I usually have the songs ready to play immediately, but this was impromptu.”

We had separate monitors, but they were linked to the same computer. I could see her searching for a song, just like when she played that ridiculous Captain & Tennille song.

I decided to plead with her. “Please do not play Celine Dion or Bette Midler.”

Please no, please no, please no.

Lori’s eyes lit up as if she had found the song, but this time I couldn’t look. “Got it!”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Heather, this one is just for you . . . ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ by Bette Midler. Enjoy.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Somebody kill me.”I slid my headphones off, setting them aside.

Lori pulled off her headphones. “If you’re going to be a big baby about it, go run away like you did last time.”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “Haven’t you heard this song a million times?”

Lori placed her hands on her hips. “I want to make it a million and one.” She glared at me.

I sighed. “You’re killing me.”

She smirked. “That’s the plan, remember?”

This time I used every ounce of my willpower to sit there and take it.

My senses weakened and my blood pressure dropped.

It was as if someone had smacked me in the face with kryptonite or tried to force-feed me a five-pound bag of granulated sugar, one tablespoon at a time.

Lori shook her head. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is. I’m melting like the Wicked Witch of the West inThe Wizard of Oz. Closer to the grave with every syrupy lyric that drips out of these speakers.”

She laughed. “What a wimp.”

What made it worse was Lori singing along with Bette, although I did have to admire her confidence to sing in front of someone she barely knew.

The only other consolation was the happiness in Lori’s voice as she sang.

She truly did love this music, which was crazy to me.

Four minutes and fifty-three seconds later—or what seemed like twenty lifetimes—the song ended, and I introduced the traffic and weather segments.

The rest of the show wasn’t much smoother, Lori and I butted heads almost nonstop. And along the way, she played two more silly love songs that were torture.