Playing Games. Dianne Drake

what it takes.”

      “And I’m sticking by what I’ve said time and time again. You’ve skirted around the only truly important issue. But then, you always do, don’t you, Valentine?”

      Doyle gave Roxy the slash-throat signal, then a five count into a commercial break. Good timing. The hard and fast rule for Edward Craig’s calls was that she always got the last word.

      “What I skirt, Doctor, is being close-minded about issues my callers consider to be serious problems. That’s all we have time for tonight. Thanks for calling, again.” Then she was off. Truffle time!

      “Whoa,” Astrid said, stepping into Roxy’s booth. “You two almost agreeing there?”

      “Not agreeing,” Roxy argued.

      “But getting pretty darn close. I mean, you guys were just a couple chapters off from being on the same page. Good thing you still managed to find a way to argue about it, because the last thing our listeners need is Valentine and Edward in bed together.”

      “Yeah, like that’s going to happen. The guy’s a snore. The only thing in bed with him is a pillow.”

      “But it was close, Rox. You know it.”

      “So I agreed with him tonight…on some points. Big deal. And he was right…on some points. That caller needed a lot more than a little blue pill to fix his problems, but that’s all Valentine can do—hand out the snappy fixer-upper, which is not necessarily the best one.”

      “Is this really about that caller?” Astrid asked. “Because you’re sounding more like Roxy than Val right now.”

      Yeah, because she was Roxy right now. Roxy tingling over Ned. “Just tired.” And full of expectations and anticipations and not sure what to do with them. “Not my usual self, I guess.”

      “Want me to stick in a rerun for the last half of the show so you can get out of here and go find your usual self?”

      “Nope. I’m okay. Just pour me a root beer and I’ll do better next segment.” Roxy saw Doyle’s ten-second signal and asked Astrid, “What’s up next?”

      “In a nutshell, big-time mamma’s boy, age forty-two. She’s seventy-five. He’s unmarried, two of them live together. He wants a life, she won’t let him have it, and don’t you dare tell him to take his balls back from her like you did last time one of them called, okay?”

      She crossed her heart, grinning. “Promise.” And just when she thought she might have some fun. “Welcome to Midnight Special, sugar. I understand you have a little problem with your mother? So before we get started, let me just say one thing.” She really hated mamma’s boys. They were all whiners. Didn’t listen. Made excuses. Got defensive. Horrible on the ratings. Her listeners turned them off, went to get a snack, have sex, grab a beer, or all of the above. “Mamma needs a man, junior. Even at her age, she’s still got it in her. So you go out and find her one, ya hear? Find her one who will give her some good, hot mamma sex and I’ll guarantee she won’t be bothering you about whatever she bothers you about, and you’ll be able to go out and get some good, hot junior sex for yourself.”

      She smiled at Astrid, giving her the thumbs-up. Val was back, all the way.