Don’t even joke about it.
True, I had a lot to be thankful for. My original video was now close to five million views, but the Mr. Always video was rapidly gaining on it. Mom was helping me with Operation Get Mitch Out of My House. I had two good friends and an excellent glass of wine.
Most importantly, I had a happy and healthy son.
A door slammed across the cul-de-sac, and everyone turned to see Parker headed our way at a rather rapid clip.
Speaking of Mr. Always ...
“Vivian,” he said, jaw tight from either annoyance or anger. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”
My heart landed somewhere on the asphalt between my feet. I didn’t want to know, but I stepped away from everyone and asked, “What happened?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before running a hand through his hair in frustration and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Someone figured out my phone number, and now I’m getting random texts from women asking me out.”
Oh no. The interview on television. Alavita had asked all the right questions for people to connect the dots, and I’d stupidly said Parker’s name. “Oh, Parker, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sure you didn’tmeanto tell the world who I was, but you did.”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t keep me from having to change my phone number. And it doesn’t keep people from contactingmy daughter, who had to change all her privacy settings on Instagram.”
Oh God. Poor Cassidy.
She was thirteen, the age of ultimate mortification, and she’d already been worried someone would see him buying pads and tampons. I dearly hoped her friends hadn’t found out. At least she wasn’t getting random texts.
“You might find a date?” I suggested with a weak smile.
His eyes bored through me. “I don’t want to date random women I’ve never met before.”
“Okay, so that joke wasn’t funny,” I said.
“No, no it wasn’t.”
Something about his tone caused my hackles to rise. None of this was intentional, and I’d tried to keep his personal information away from my viewers. “It was an accident, Parker. I didn’t think—”
“That I can believe. Youreallyweren’t thinking.”
His words reminded me of all the times Mitch had said the exact same thing, and I couldn’t have stopped the flash of anger if I wanted to.
“I asked you before I posted it! I tried to keep your privacy intact.” My blood pressure rose in response to an argument I’d had so many times before. Only this time, I wasn’t going to back down. I would never back down again because, well, look at how backing down had gone for me in the past.
“I know that,” he said. “But you also had a better idea of what viral would mean.”
“Parker, you have to believe me. I sure as heck didn’t think anyone would cyberstalk you to the point where they would find your number, much less have the balls to call or text you! Especially not ask you out. Do you have your phone number visible on your Facebook or LinkedIn or something?”
From the way the color drained from his face, I could tell he did. I should’ve taken that as enough of a victory, but I couldn’t help adding, “Okay, so now who wasn’t thinking?”
As the words left my mouth, they felt wrong, but I couldn’t seem to stop them.
“Vivian.” His tone was half exasperation and half irritation.
I’d gone too far. I knew I was in the wrong and should apologize. But he hadn’t accepted any of my apologies thus far, and I was sick and tired of apologizing. Instead of giving in again, I met his glare.
He was the first to look away. “You know what? Forget it.”
As he stalked off, my anger was immediately replaced with something akin to despair. I had no business having a crush on him, but I also hadn’t meant to air his business on television so thoroughly. Weary, I returned to my chair and collapsed in it.
