CHAPTER 2

          That request nearly made Heath Evans fall off his chair. Was this some kind of a prank call? Considering the timid way this woman had started her phone call, that last statement had been a shocker.

          Jerking up, he mouthed ‘What the hell, dude?!’ to Timothy, his forty-two-year-old producer. The man supposedly screening his calls just shrugged and went back to playing with switches. Heath fought down the urge to strangle him. He’d wrangled with that sensation often over their five-year friendship.

          There was something about the other man’s laid-back attitude that tended to grate against his nerves. Especially during the past few months. Timothy knew he didn’t like to deal with this sort of thing on air.  

          Heath could barely walk out his door without being approached by some primped-up, sassy woman looking for him to rock her world in every single way possible.

          All they ever really wanted was an instant catapult to notoriety… or money.

          The novelty of fame had long since lost its shine. Heath really enjoyed helping people but could have done without some of the headaches that went with the job overall great.

          Pasting a smile on his face, because the listeners really could hear when it wasn’t there, Heath put every ounce of experience he’d gained over the past five years into handling the thorny situation Timothy had dropped in his lap.

          At least he’d learned something on his journey from ordinary nighttime DJ to megastar.

“Well, sweetheart… I must say, I’m flattered.”

          He forced out a laugh that fell as flat as the lie he’d just told. He was nowhere close to being flattered. In fact, he was much closer to annoyed.

“‘Uhm… sorry about that… That’s not… I didn’t mean… Please, let me explain.’”

          The young woman’s voice floated into his ears through the headphones he wore. Heath heard desperation, which scared him, but also something underneath that caught his attention.

          Something sweet… with a tinge of the same uneasiness he was trying to ignore. In a strange way, it stirred a connection, a sense of kinship with the woman on the other end.

“‘I know this must sound crazy to you and, frankly, I wouldn’t blame you if you cut me off, but… please, just hear me out. Honestly, I didn’t mean what I said before. Really. I’m not like that…’”

          Her admission took a bit of the edge off… Barely...

          She paused, sucking in air. The broken sound reverberated through his brain. When she started talking again, her voice trembled and he wondered what had made her take this step.

          Whatever she was trying to say, it was obviously quite difficult.

“‘My name is... Alissa.’”

          Her voice faltered and drifted away for a moment before beginning again.

“‘This is hard for me to talk about...’”

“Well, I can’t say I’ll sleep with you, Alissa…”

          Heath forced out another laugh, but even he could hear the brittle edge.

“But I’d like to help. Tell me what’s going on.”

“‘About… about five years ago I was… Uhm... date raped. I knew the guy. Not very well, but enough to think I’d be safe with him. I wasn’t.’”

          A tight knot dropped into his stomach, punching straight through to his toes.

          How had this girl gotten through?

          She’d already hit two of the auto-dump buttons: propositioning him and having a serious sexual issue, one that required professional help.

          He was no professional. His unfinished business-management degree didn’t really qualify him to deal with severe sexual hang-ups. And if, in the silence of his own mind, he’d thought once or twice about remedying that deficiency in his education… well, there’d never been a reason to admit that idiocy to anyone.

          Heath stared hard through the glass at Timothy. The other man’s forehead was wrinkled even more than usual.

          Sure… now he cared.

          Where had that interest been five minutes ago?

          Alissa’s voice continued, tightening and turning to an emotionless monotone while she recited the bare-bones facts he really didn’t want to hear.

“‘It was terrifying and happened a long time ago. But I can’t seem to move past it. I’ve tried so many things, talked with a lot of people... No one seems to have the answer.’”

“The answer to what?”

          The sound of his own voice coming through the headphones shocked him.

          Why had he asked her that?

“‘I can’t have sex. I want to…’”

          The girl groaned softly, the sound lodging right next to the knot at the bottom of his stomach.

“‘I really do... But just thinking about it… Well, I freeze up.’”

          His eyes locked with Timothy’s through the pane of glass between them, narrowing to slits. His jaw clamped so tight he thought the entire audience could probably hear the grinding sound.

          Alissa had a serious problem. Not the ‘my boyfriend won’t go down on me’ or ‘my girlfriend won’t do a threesome’ kind of stuff he dealt with on a normal night. She needed some professional help… She didn’t need him.

          This had disaster written all over it.

          His show was ‘Isn’t sex fun?’, not emotional turmoil.

          He’d fallen into the job as ‘Dr. Lovejoy’. A few comments to a late-night caller and before he knew it, what had been a play-the-records, punch-the-buttons kind of job had turned into hours of sex and relationship discussions that led to... ‘Speaking of Sex & Lust… with Dr. Lovejoy’.

          But he’d worked hard over the past five years to build a public persona, to provide confidence and helpful information to those seeking sexual answers and a push to try something new.

          The people who called into his show, people that got past Timothy’s supposed screening process, mostly wanted relationship advice or to share their own fantasies or be turned on.

          Well… Heath was prepared for that. He was not prepared for this.

“Alissa, as much as I’d like to help you, I’m not a real doctor. It sounds to me like you need to see a professional.”

“‘I’ve already done that. I’ve talked to four doctors, in fact. None of them helped.’”

          He looked again at Timothy and mouthed ‘What the hell do I do now?’. His producer’s response was the cut the phone sign. He’d like nothing better than to end this call, but Heath didn’t think that would be a very good idea.

          Not for Alissa.

          And certainly, not for the show.

          His female listeners, more than half his audience, would raise hell.

          How could he extract himself without appearing cold and indifferent?

“Well, Alissa… Maybe you just need to give yourself some more time. You seem pretty young. You barely sound old enough to have a serious drink.”

          Heath pushed out another laugh, trying to maintain the tone of the show despite feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“‘I’m twenty-six and it hasn’t gotten any better in five years. That’s a long time… I want… Ehm… I want a husband and kids. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be sixty before I have sex again.’”

          Another desperate sound echoed across the line and twanged the nerves at the bottom of his spine.

“‘I don’t think I could handle that.’”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’ll have sex when you’re ready. I’m curious, though… what makes you think you’d be any different with me?”

“‘Honestly… I didn’t mean to say that. But I’ve been listening to your show for a long time and it’s obvious you know what you’re talking about. Maybe that’s what I need… a MAN who really understands how to give a woman pleasure. Who knows how to ignore the fear... how to make it disappear…’”

          Heath shifted in his seat, completely surprised that the quivery little dip in her voice there at the end had caught his attention.

“You should never ignore the fear, Alissa. Listen to your body. It knows what you can handle and what not.”

          He paused, leaning in closer to the mike. He really wanted to help this woman, but he couldn’t, not without risking everything he’d built. His show walked a thin line between offering professional-sounding advice and providing an opinion.

          Heath tried hard to stay far away from that line. One toe over could cost him everything. One lawsuit because he’d said the wrong thing to the wrong person… Alissa was just too close to that edge for comfort.

“I know you understand I can’t sleep with you, but please, find another therapist. Maybe this time, his or her suggestions will work. The fact you were willing to call into the show tells me how important this is for you and how much you’re willing to risk to get what you want. You don’t need me, Alissa. You need to trust yourself. Find a nice man who’ll understand and go slowly with you. If you need the number of a therapist, stay on the line, and I’ll get the information for you.”

“‘Thank you.’”

          He’d expected her voice to waver or maybe crack with disappointment. Well, it didn’t. In fact, she seemed almost… relieved.

                                                                   ****

“Are you happy now, Summie? I made a complete ass of myself in front of so many people.”

“Sure you did… Alissa.”

          Summer winked before hobbling to the kitchen and coming back with a half-empty bottle of tequila.

“No one but me knows that was you on the radio.”

“And it better stay that way, missy!”

          A grin appeared on Summer’s lips.

“Of course.”

          Rowena fought the urge to say something snide to wipe the expression off her face. Her friend hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d been the idiot who’d called and blurted out a request for sex.

“You know, I never would have said that if you hadn’t been pounding at me about how perfect he would be as my sex stud.”

          Pouring another shot, Summer looked at Rowena.

“I think you said exactly what you wanted to. Not that it matters.”

“Oh, it matters…”

“Besides, I happen to agree with him.”

“Excuse me? What did you just say? You’re the one who told me to sleep with the guy…”

“Not about that. I think you need to find a MAN, Rowe. One who understands what you’ve gone through. One who’ll go slow and take things one step at a time.”

          Rowena paced to the window and back. Realizing she still held the phone in her hand, she tossed it away in disgust. What? Did they all think she was stupid? Of course, that was what she needed.

“Absolutely! And a guy like that isn’t hard to find. Because telling a man on the first date that there won’t be any sex in his foreseeable future due to the fact that I’m a rape survivor really turns men on.”

“So… don’t tell him.”

          Turning to her friend, Rowena cocked her head to the side and stared.

“You’re the one who said I need to find a man who understands. Kinda hard to do if I don’t tell him.”

“Don’t say it on the first date.”

          Rowena sank down onto the couch. Tears of frustration pricked the backs of her eyes.

“That doesn’t work either because then I spend the entire night worrying about what he expects and how I’ll handle it.”

“Fine! Be miserable!”

          Summer slipped down beside her on the edge of the sofa and wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders.

“But nothing’s going to change, babe, until you truly, wholeheartedly, take a chance.”