Page 2 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

“Hi, Molly! This is Jilly G. You wanted to say something to Lonely in Mistletoe?”

“Mostly, I called in to warn anyone who has never dated Sam—” A loud beep covered his last name. “Run away as fast as you can! He is the most egotistical, selfish, pathetic—”

“Alright, Molly,” Jilly G interjected, “I’m going to stop you right there and let some of these other callers get a few adjectives in.”

“Other callers?” Sam whispered in horror. He couldn’t place Molly off the bat, but if he’d burned that bridge to a cinder, how many more disgruntled women were waiting to read him the riot act?

The list could be massive. As much as he tried to be open and honest, some women didn’t take the end of their acquaintance well.

“Sam, before I take our next caller, do you have any thoughts on Molly’s warning to other women?”

“Do I have thoughts? On whether women should run from me? Many, but I’m a bit terrified anything I say will leave me roasted in the court of public opinion.”

“Are you saying that Molly has the wrong idea about you?” Jilly asked sweetly.

“I mean . . . I’m not egotistical, I’m confident.” A loud boo chorused in his ear. “Hey now, you wanted me to respond! I’m honest about what I’m looking for. Why does not wanting a relationship make me pathetic?”

“Maybe it is your delivery or reasoning that has Molly feeling this way. Let’s hear from Jen in Sun Valley.”

Sam found himself muted again, and a gravelly voice said hi to Jilly.

“Hi, Jen. I understand that you’ve also had a previous relationship with Lonely in Mistletoe. Care to share?”

The woman chortled, and he stiffened at the familiar sound. “Oh my God, not the hacker!”

“Sam is a jerk,” Jen said, bringing back memories of the night he’d met her when he was passing through Sun. He’d been staying with a friend, and they’d gone out to a bar. He’d approached a gorgeous redhead, but the place was too loud to talk. They went outside, and the moment he’d heard her voice, he’d wanted to hightail it back inside. She sounded like a croaking toad, and while Sam thought he could get over that, kissing her had been like licking an ashtray. Before he could let her down easy, she’d started hacking against his mouth. When he’d felt the hunk of her spit tag him in the face and start sliding down, he was done. He’d told her he needed to pee, grabbed his friend, and rushed out the door.

“It sounds like you know that from experience. Do you want to elaborate, Jen?”

“I met him last year, and we were having a lovely time. Suddenly, he disappears. Sam specializes in blowing women off without any explanation. If he’s alone, binge eating, it’s his own bleeping fault!”

The line went dead, and Jilly laughed. “Apparently, she got what was needed said off her chest. Sam? Thoughts?”

Sam wasn’t going to throw stones and humiliate Jen on the radio. “Yeah, I think I’m going to get off this phone call and discuss at length why boundaries are important with my nephew.”

“Oh, Sam, don’t leave! If you go, how will you respond to the dozens of ladies waiting in the queue to talk to you? Or at you, as was the case with Jen?”

“Naw, thank you, but this little experiment is over. You have a nice night now.”

“Sam—”

He ended the call, tapping his phone against his thigh.

“You look mad,” Jace said.

“I am, but initially, I was just confused.” Sam kneeled in front of Jace, watching his nephew’s downcast face. “What did you think calling a radio station was going to do for my love life?”

Jace shrugged. “Miss Jilly has helped lots of people! Listen, she gives great advice.” Jace hopped off the couch, and Sam heard the telltale sound of plastic being crushed under his nephew’s slippers, but Jace was too riled up to notice the cake he’d smushed under his feet. He took off down the hallway, returning with his tablet, and the first thing Sam heard was Jilly’s voice.

“So, you disagree with the other ladies about Sam’s qualities?” Jilly asked.

“Look, I’m not saying he can’t be an insensitive turd, but he’s smart. He’s funny. Obviously good-looking, or women wouldn’t line up to sleep with him, knowing what they do about him.” Sam recognized Ricki’s voice and groaned. His friend and occasional lover thought she was helping, but no doubt it would only fuel the hate fire the ladies of Mistletoe seemed to be stoking tonight.

“Are you saying they’re asking for it?”

“Whoa, not the words I’d choose,” the woman said. “Just that everyone involved is a consenting adult, and if they don’t want him to continue perpetrating his man-whore ways, maybe don’t answer the phone when he calls with sex on the brain.”

“Thank you for your insights, Ricki.”