Page 5 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

VANESSA

“ H otter than hell?” Kim rolled her eyes and laughed. “You cannot be serious. Why don’t they screen the stupid calls for you?”

“Because I asked them not to.” I shrugged and white-knuckled the elliptical handlebars, holding on for dear life as the pedals under my feet tracked in awkward half-circles, daring my knees to buckle.

“If you lose the spontaneity of the show, it dies. I’ve been studying radio my whole life. You know this.”

She nodded and reached up to jack her cardio level up—not that the girl needed more cardio.

She was my complete opposite when it came to the physicality department.

She had long, lean legs and tanned olive skin that glistened with beads of sweat as her legs pumped beneath her.

“I know, but I think you need to better control it. What if someone really nasty calls in?”

“What if?” I chuckled. “That’s happened several times over the years. You just roll with it.”

“Better you than me.” She shrugged before turning her head to stretch out her neck.

The gesture made her collarbones even more prominent than usual.

They sparkled with sweat, too, and somehow, it looked magical on her, whereas I looked like a perspiring sloth.

“It feels so good to be back home. The last wedding really took it out of me.”

“I still need to see the pictures from Australia. We need a girls’ night.”

“We do for sure. The wedding over there was my favorite so far. It was like a fantasy come true. My clients took it for granted. They wanted something more tropical for their venue. I wish people could appreciate where they are and work with what they have, rather than force it. It would make my job so much easier. And their day so much more organic. But hey, what do I know?”

“Look at it this way. With picky clients, you can up your rates.” I picked up my latest W. Parker novel and flipped a few pages. My multi-tasking skills were on point. It was my superpower.

“That’s a great book. The guy gets the girl in the end.” Kim’s laugh was contagious.

“What? You bald gorilla, you just ruined it for me.” I let my voice stay even as I continued to scan the chapter.

It was a romance book. All of them ended with a happy ever after or the author found herself not writing romance for much longer.

“You still trying to figure out the mystery that is W. Parker?”

“Nope. It’s a woman.” She tilted her head to the side as her legs moved faster and faster. She made working out look easy. I’d have hated her if she weren’t my best, and almost only, friend.

“I’m saying it’s a man.”

“It’s too good to be a man. No offense, but I don’t think a dude could write in such an emotionally raw, deep way.

” She took the book from me and flipped it over.

“It pisses me off that the author hasn’t come out yet.

One of her first novels is being made into a movie.

And what? She’s just not going to be there? Dumb.”

“It’s a guy, and who cares if he wants to hide his identity? Maybe he’s a schoolteacher or has a job that requires him to hide his smut writing.”

A growl left my BFF. “It’s romance. Not smut. Your show is no different.”

It was my turn to make noises. “Are you kidding me? My show is taking real people’s problems and helping them work through them.”

“Are you trying to save love, Vanessa? Are you in the business of love? Because that’s exactly what I feel when I listen to your show.

That you’re on the almost impossible journey of saving love and instilling in people that it’s worth it to push through the pain.

” Her words were harsh, but her tone was almost dreamy.

“Yes, actually.” I reached up and pressed the down arrow on my machine. Exercise was the devil’s tool to destroy lives. “Love is worth the effort. If it’s not love, I tell people to walk away. The trick is knowing the difference.”

She shook the book at me before handing it back. “W. Parker is no different. She’s doing the same thing with her books.”

“What if it’s a dude?” I flipped back to my original place and started reading again. W. Parker, dude or chick, had great books. So much wisdom and grace was crammed into the two-hundred-plus pages. I used Parker’s stuff all the time as part of my content for the show.

“Then I’m marrying him. I hope he’s single. I’m going to make him the happiest man in the world.” Kim fanned herself and smiled like a cat in heat. “Have you read those sex scenes? It’s a woman. No man knows how to create romance in the middle of humping. They’re beautiful, delicious, sensual.”

“You’re turning me on.” I closed the book and set it down. “New subject. How’s your dating life going?”

“That’s an extension of the same subject we’re talking about.” She upped her effort more. The poor thing was going to kill herself. Where did she reserve all her energy? She didn’t have a shred of body fat on her.

“If you fly off this thing, I’m not helping you up. That’s embarrassing.”

She laughed. “Love you too.”

“Fill me in on the dating life. You still blaming your traveling, or are you finally letting our favorite matchmaking friend hook you up?”

“Always, but you’ll be happy to know that I did meet with Jackson about two weeks ago on Skype. He set me up on several dates for the week that I’m home.” She looked rather noncommittal.

“As in now ?” I couldn’t help but notice a good-looking man in his forties checking us out.

An older man might be right up my alley.

Someone that knew how to handle a first-timer like me and could appreciate my full figure.

I’d dreamt of the day I found the right person to give myself over to, but that day had yet to arrive.

The old maid with loads of cats threatened to become my reality the closer and closer I got to thirty. That and my Nannie reminding me of my singleness every time she got a chance.

“Hey!” Kim poked me. “You’re not listening. Stop daydreaming about Jackson and pay attention.”

“Gross. He’s like a brother to me, and besides, he’s going to end up with Haley. She’s been in love with him since we were kids.” I rolled my eyes and looked for Mr. Forty in the crowd again.

“They’ll never end up together. Neither one of them has the courage to say anything to the other.” She pressed stop on her machine and dragged her forearm across her sweaty brow. “And I was telling you that I have a date after our workout. Like an early afternoon lunch-type date.”

“Ohh…” I wagged my eyebrows and stopped my machine too. Finally. Almost died today. “I want details.”

“Sure. Of course.” She wiped her face with her towel. “You heard about Miley and Liam getting a divorce, right?”

“Yeah. Everyone did. Is Jackson pretty torn up over that? It was a big deal for him.”

“No. He claims to have started the fire, but he can’t stoke it or make sure a bear doesn’t piss on it.” She shrugged. “He’s good, and thanks to setting them up, he’s working to matchmake with some other A-listers.”

“Interesting. Who—”

A deep male voice interrupted us. “You done with this machine?”

I turned to find Mr. Forty looked much, much better up close. My eyes moved down to his left hand to find no ring. Looked like it was our lucky day.

“Yes, handsome. We’re done.” Kim moved back and lifted her hand as if Vanna White.

His eyes ran down Kim and then me. “You girls come here often?”

I snorted, unable to help my inner teenager. I didn’t look like I’d been to a gym in years. Kim did, but my local hangout was obvious. The donut shop.

“Women, and yes.” Kim slipped her arm into mine, and we walked away. “Don’t do it.”

“Can’t help it,” I mumbled and, much to her dismay, turned and glanced over my shoulder.

The handsome older man smiled and chuckled before getting onto Kim’s abandoned machine.

“I think a younger guy is more your style.” She steered us toward the locker room. “Don’t you?”

“No. I need someone with experience. I have no clue what I’m doing in the bedroom or out of it.” I slipped my arm out of hers and wiped at my forehead before realizing that my book was still on the machines behind us.

“A younger guy could help with that. Seriously, Vanny. Let’s talk to Jackson and let him set you up with someone. How are you going to get this experience you claim you’re after if you never take a chance on someone?”

“No. I’m good.” I nodded toward my right shoulder. “I left my book. I need to go grab it.”

Her smile was devious, much like it had been most of our teenage years when she was about to offer up a famous bet you wouldn’t .

“No,” I said while pointing a stern index finger up into her face. “We’re in our late twenties. You gotta stop that shit.”

“Oh, come on. You know you love my games. They keep life fun.” She plopped down on a bench and pushed her sneakers off with the toe of the other foot. “Just one time.”

“Fine.” I huffed and put a hand on my hip. “But for the record, this is stupid.”

Kim clapped her hands together and grinned at me over her long fingers. “Okay. Here goes. I bet you won’t use one of W. Parker’s pick-up lines on the silver fox out there. Five dollars.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course, that was what she went for. Without a word, I turned on my heel. Kim’s giggles followed me out of the locker room. I skirted around a young woman with earbuds in as I made my way back to the cardio section of the gym. Each machine taunted me with its electric hum.

Back for more, chunky?

You sure could use a good run.

Stairmasters help burn fat. Look at those thighs. Hop on, girl. Ryan was right. If you lost a bit of weight, you’d be a smokeshow!

I shook my head to dismiss the self-critical thoughts as I closed in on Mr. Forty. His back was to me as he set a steady pace on his machine. I was not ashamed to steal a glance at his firm ass.

No way in hell I was hitting on the guy. And lying to Kim about it was out. She’d see right through me without effort. We’d been friends since our first day of kindergarten. I was stuck.

Five dollars? Really?

For what? A bout of anxiety. That’s what .

“This yours?” The handsome guy’s voice pulled me from my frozen position. His smile accentuated his lips. Soft. Pink. Wet. Surrounded by graying whiskers.

I stifled a shiver. “Um. Yes. Thanks.” I reached out to grab it. Somewhere in the middle of trying to ignore how tight his shorty-shorts were on his rear and not choking on my tongue, I made a decision. I was going to go for it. Not for the five bucks.

Or the pictures.

Or the sex updates.

Because I got to live once. What would Nessa say to a caller that called in with my exact same predicament?

Go for it. Trust love. Lust. Togetherness.

I’d read so many W. Parker books that finding a line in my memory bank was easy. Worst case, dude would laugh me out of the building.

Good. I’m ready to get the hell out of here anyway.

“You okay?” He smiled and stepped off the machine, turning and putting his full attention on me.

“Oh yeah. I was just thinking about a wedding I have to attend next week. You’d look pretty good beside me as my date.” I held my own, working to not swallow my tongue. Did I just get through it?

Sweat welled up thicker than it had been when I was hoofing it in high gear on the elliptical.

The line had been well placed in W’s novel. It was met with a chuckle and the acceptance by the guy getting asked, but that was fiction.

My heart fluttered in my chest as the guy’s smile widened. He had perfectly straight, shockingly white teeth. I wondered what he would taste like, how it would feel to have his tongue slide against mine. Would he taste like peppermint and cigars?

“Only if you’ll let me work you in the limo before we go in.” He licked his teeth.

Horror rolled over me. Work me?

“Like work me out? At a gym?” I officially choked on my tongue.

He laughed. “Scoot on out of here, innocent little sweetheart. I was hitting on your friend. You’re good for a lay, but that’s about it. Curves feel good, but they don’t look good.”

He got back on his machine and resumed his previous pace.

I watched his back as my brain struggled to find something to say other than thank you for your time .

Why was my impulse to feel instantly apologetic for wasting someone’s time who was a complete and total ass to me?

I turned and walked slowly back to the locker room, my stomach ill but my resolve set.

No more hitting on guys with something stupid out of a romance novel.

Those things weren’t real anyway.

W. Parker was for sure a man. No woman would write something so silly and contrite.

I shouldered past a heavyset woman coming out of the locker room.

She offered me a brief apology before putting her second earbud in.

I could hear her screamo music as I rounded the corner and came face to face with Kim, who was still sitting on the bench.

She’d stripped out of her shirt and was sitting in just her sports bra and leggings, each a matching shade of royal blue.

“Well? Did you get your prize package?” Kim smiled and reached for me, pulling me into a hug. “You did, didn’t you? What did he say? You look ill. He said yes, right?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” I shook my head. It was always about my weight, and I would always be second best. Until I found the right guy.

As if that were ever going to happen.

“I’ll pay up. Promise.” She hopped up to her feet. “I’m going to shower and then head out. You want to hang out tomorrow?”

“I have something going on at my parents’ house.”

“Nannie going?” She grimaced.

I worked to avoid looking at her half-naked body. Never a fun thing to do when she out-hotted me ten to one. “Yep. Good times.”

Kim threw her head back and laughed as she made her way over to the showers. “What do you always say about Nannie? She’s about as what?”

I sighed and rested my elbows on my knees and my chin—or chins—in my palms. Kim pulled the shower curtain closed and I lifted my voice so she could hear me over the spray of the shower as she turned it on. “She’s about as fun as a snake bite to the cooter.”