by Maria Geraci
“Shut it down? Why would we want to shut it down? Listen, I have to go. Speedway is back on the radio. Talk to you later!”
“Ellen, don’t hang—”
Argh!
Grace turned on the radio.
“Welcome back to The Track, speedsters. This is the one and only Speedway Gonzalez taking you round and round Day-to-na Beach! So, for a quick recap. I thought we’d be doing our typical after-the-big-race show this morning and let you losers call in and lie about how much booty you scored last night. But all you duds want to talk about is this boyfriend club. Some local chick named Shania Brown—Yeah, how about that for a name. I bet she’s fat. What do you think? Shania and her What’s Up, Daytona Beach? blog are getting some big buzz. Well, I say nuthin’ happens in Daytona without the Speedster putting in his two pesos’ worth. Seems like some disgruntled chick—What’s her name again? Oh yeah, Grace O’Bryan. I bet she’s fat. What do you think? And Gracie, if you’re out there listening, which I know you are, you’re welcome to call in anytime, baby. Speedway is dying to talk to you.”
Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen.
“So, Grace decided to put together some women’s empowerment group—and can I just say that’s about the stupidest oxy-moron there is. Ladies, listen up! You don’t need to get power; you already have it. Just walk into any bar on Beach Street. I guarantee you the dude who’s just spent the last two hours trying to get some chick wasted so he can get her in the sack isn’t thinking, ‘Man, I sure am glad I have all the power here!’
“So back to this boyfriend club. Seems Gracie was fed up with dating losers and decided to get back at some by reviewing the guys she’s shagged. Toss in some more fat friends and we have a club. Whoa! I’m feeling the empowerment, how about you? Word is there’s more than two hundred of them. And guess where they meet? Florida Charlie’s!” Speedway chuckled. “About thirty minutes ago, Ellen Ames, the brainiac of this little empowerment group, called in and went one-on-one with the Speedster. The phones have been ringing off the hook ever since. Here’s what she had so say.”
Oh no. It was true. Grace hadn’t heard wrong. What could Ellen be thinking? This was beyond awful. Grace turned up the volume.
“Hello? Hello? Is this Mr. Speedway?” Grace heard Ellen say.
“That’s me, baby. So, Ellen, first things first. Are you fat?”
“I’m not going to fall for your stupid macho radio bull. I’m calling to set you straight about the boyfriend club.”
“Okay, that means you’re fat, but I’m not going to hold it against you.”
To Ellen’s credit, she didn’t fall for Speedway’s fat shtick. “You say that women are already empowered, but what you’re talking about is sex—”
“You got something against sex, Ellen? It’s because you’re fat, right?”
“I’ll tell you what I’m against, Speedway. I’m against guys like you who degrade women. The boyfriend club was developed to help women weed out the bad seeds in the dating game. You don’t like the word empowerment? Okay, let’s try this. The boyfriend club is about providing information that allows women to make better choices.”
“Slow down, Ellen. All those big words are giving Speedway a headache.”
“Oh? Sorry, I’ll try to keep my words at five letters and under.” Speedway laughed. “I like you, Ellen.”
There was a pause. Oh, no. Ellen had been doing so good up until now.
“Well, thank you,” she said.
“What color panties are you wearing?” Speedway asked.
“Excuse me?”
“So you’re not wearing panties, huh?”
“Of course I’m wearing panties! I’m an English teacher!”
Grace moaned. Ellen was about to be mashed into guacamole.
“Yeah?” Speedway’s voice hitched with excitement. “Where at?”
No, Ellen, don’t tell him!
“I teach English Composition and Appreciation of Poetry 1 at Daytona State College.”
Grace slumped in her chair.
“Listen up, Ellen’s students! Speedway is gonna give a hundred bucks to anyone who can tell me what color panties Ellen’s wearing. But I’m going to need proof.”
Ellen started to sputter.
Speedway’s obnoxious chuckle made Grace cringe. “We’re back live now, speedsters, and I still haven’t gotten that proof I’m waiting for. Tell you what. I’ll up the price to two hundred bucks. I want a photo of Ellen’s panties. With her in ’em. And I want it bad!”
One of Speedway’s sidekicks made a joke and they laughed.
“So, now that Speedway has talked to the chicks, let’s get the male point of view. Who do I have on the line?”
“This is . . . Todd.”
“All right, Todd, you got something to say? Let’s hear it, dude.”
“I happen to know Grace O’Bryan. I went out with her for almost six months. She’s frigid, man.”
What? Grace had never gone out with anyone named Todd! “So you think the club is all about revenge, huh?” Speedway asked.
“Totally. She and her sorry pack of friends are nothing but a bunch of losers who can’t get a date.”
“You sound pretty pissed.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? She’s a liar as well as a bitch.”
“So which guy are you, Todd?”
“What do you mean?”
“Which of the guys Shania mentioned in her blog are you?”
“I’m not any of them!”
Todd, my ass. It was Felix. What a lying, cheating skunk. And to think, she’d actually been civil to him when he’d asked for her forgiveness!
“I’d say you’re the dude who uses Céline Dion for Viagra. Am I right?” asked Speedway.
“No!”
“Let’s see . . . that would be F, the maître d’ at Daytona Beach’s swankiest new French restaurant. My sources here tell me that’s Chez Louis.” Speedway started talking in a mocking French accent. “So, F, why the need to lie to Speedway? We’re all friends here.”
“I didn’t lie and I’m not this F person. I already told you, my name is Todd.” Felix sounded like he was on the verge of tears. What an idiot. Why didn’t he just hang up?
“Dude, I’m hurt that you don’t trust Speedway. How can I help you if you won’t be honest?” There was some shuffling in the background. “Okay, speedsters, I got the lowdown. Brianna, who works here at the station, is friends with some chick who’s in the club, and we’ve just gotten access to the Yahoo! site.” There was a moment of silence, then, “Felix, my man! What’s going on?” Speedway asked.
“I . . . I already told you, my name is Todd.”
If Speedway had access to the Yahoo! site, then he was privy to everyone’s file. And to their real names. Grace felt her lungs seize up.
“Felix, I’m reading your review right now, and I have to say, I’m impressed! Even I’ve never done a chick from the Topless-aGo-Go. You must be some stud, huh?”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never gotten any complaints before.”
Oh my God. Speedway had just tricked “Todd” into admitting to his real identity.
“And on Valentine’s Day, with your girl catching you! That’s cold, man. Really cold.”
“She deserved it. Like I said, she was frigid.”
“You mean she didn’t put out enough? You don’t think maybe she might have been turned off by your little Céline Dion obsession?”
“I already told you, that’s not me!”
“What did I say about lying to me, dude?”
“Okay, you want to know the real reason Grace broke up with me? She’s a gold digger, man. She would have come back to me in a flash if it wasn’t for her new boyfriend, Brandon Farrell.”
“Central Florida’s most eligible bachelor? That Brandon Farrell?”
“The one and only. His family’s loaded. How’s a working guy supposed to compete with that?”
What on earth? Why would Felix think Grace was datin
g—
Grace let out a whoosh of air. Felix thought Grace was dating Brandon because that’s what she’d let him think the afternoon he’d dropped by her town house. How was she ever going to explain this to Joe? God, please, don’t let Joe be listening to the radio!
Speedway pretended to be sympathetic to Felix for a few minutes, then went back for the kill. After he finished chewing and spitting Felix out, he moved on to Doug, who was also stupid enough to call in to the show. Didn’t you have to have some brains to pass the CPA exam?
Doug threatened to sue everyone involved. Shania, Grace, Speedway, and even her father, since he was the owner of Florida Charlie’s and that’s where the original slander occurred. He accused Jessica, the ex who had tainted his “good name,” of being crazy and needing medication.
“And now, speedsters, I’ve been saving the best for last. So I get this chick who works at the station to tell me all about this Mr. Wickham character, since I’m not familiar with him. Seems like he’s some bad mother player from a Jane Austen novel. And can I just say, what is it with chicks and Jane Austen, anyway? I bet she was fat. But that’s another show.” Speedway chuckled maliciously. “Okay, so back to J. A dentist? I mean, ladies, really? How low can you get?”
It was like the class bully had stolen her diary and was running around the playground shouting out her most secret thoughts to everyone. This was worse than when Richard Kasamati had done the awful orange-head imitation. Worse than finding Felix in bed with another woman. Worse than . . . worse than anything Grace could have ever imagined.
Should she call Joe and warn him? Grace glanced at her watch. It was already after eleven. He’d be seeing patients now. And what would she say, anyway? Tune in to the radio and listen in along with the rest of Daytona Beach while Speedway Gonzalez makes coleslaw out of you?
One of Speedway’s cronies came on the air and did a few dentist jokes, all of which involved the punch line “open wide.” Grace supposed this was Speedway’s warmup for Joe.
Please, please, please, Joe, don’t call in to the show!
Speedway tried his best to egg Joe into calling. But thank God Joe was too smart for that. And just when Grace thought maybe the damage could still be minimized, she heard a familiar female voice.
“Is this Speedway?”
“You’re talking to him, baby. Who’s this?”
“My name is Melanie. I’m Dr. Rosenblum’s receptionist and I also happen to be a good friend of his.”
“Melanie, first things first. Are you fat?”
“What? Of course not! I have a great figure. I do Pilates and everything.”
Speedway chuckled evilly. Grace could almost feel his heart race over the radio, his excitement was so palpable. Melanie was about to be crushed into the celery seed that went into the coleslaw. Grace couldn’t listen anymore. She turned off the radio, crawled into bed, and pulled the covers over her head.
31
Sometimes the Tomato Just Wants to Be Alone
Someone was knocking on her door. Could it be Joe? And if it was, what would she say to him? Grace dragged herself out from under the covers. It was dark outside. She glanced at her clock. It was almost eight thirty. She mustered her courage and opened the front door, but it wasn’t Joe. It was Brandon.
“Hey,” she said, sounding weak and puny and pathetic. So much for being empowered.
“Grace, are you all right? I’ve been listening to the radio all day.” Brandon walked into her town house with a pizza box in his hands. “I’ve tried calling but your cell phone keeps going to voice mail.” He took in her makeup-less face and her puffy eyes and her baggy sweats. “You look like shit.” He placed the pizza on her kitchen counter. “But this will make you feel better.”
“I’m fine. Brandon, listen, I’m so sorry. This all started the night of the Wobbly Duck and—”
“I was an asshole that night, so I guess I had this boyfriend club review coming to me.”
“You’re . . . you’re not angry at me?” Brandon had gotten off lightly compared to Felix and Doug and Joe, but he’d still had his moment in the sun.
“Hey, I’m Mr. Darcy, right?” He smiled weakly. “I admit, I’m embarrassed. But I know you never meant for all this to go public. It’s that damn Speedway. This is all his fault.”
Grace wished she could blame it on Speedway. But to be fair, she couldn’t. He was just capitalizing on her stupidity. Although Brandon’s attitude was surprisingly cavalier. Maybe Joe wasn’t upset either. Maybe he hadn’t even listened to the show . . .
“Grace, your father came to see me today. I know about you losing your job.”
“Why did Pop—” There was only one reason for Pop to go see Brandon. He was taking Brandon up on his offer to buy the store. Never in a million years would she have believed this. Pop was selling Florida Charlie’s!
“Brandon, I appreciate you coming over here. More than I can say. But I kind of just want to be alone right now.”
“Grace, I want to help you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her to him. “I want to be your rock.”
“Um, that’s awful sweet of you.”
“Damn it! I’m not doing it to be sweet.” He kissed her hard on the mouth. At first, it took Grace so off guard all she did was sag against him like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been snipped off. But she was feeling sorry for herself and he smelled so good (was that Dolce and Gabbana he had on?) she couldn’t help but kiss him back. Just a little. Maybe it was time to see if there was actually anything between them. He felt her respond and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. It was . . . pleasant. After a couple of minutes, they came up for air.
Brandon looked pleased. “I don’t want to take advantage of you while you’re down, so I’d probably better leave before we get carried away.”
“Yeah . . . good idea.”
“Call me later. And if you need anything, anything at all—a shoulder to cry on, advice, ice cream, I’ll be here in a flash.” He gave her a long, lustful look, then hustled out the door.
Grace groaned. Brandon couldn’t really have thought there was anything in that kiss, could he? Curiosity made her open the pizza box. It was pepperoni and anchovies, Grace’s favorite. Brandon had a good memory.
The doorbell rang. What if it was Brandon coming back to kiss her again? She didn’t think she could handle that.
Thank God, this time it was Penny. She marched inside, took one look at Grace, and demanded, “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” She stuck her nose up in the air and sniffed. “Is that pizza?”
“Help yourself,” Grace said. “Brandon brought it over, but I’m not hungry.”
“Grace, your dad told me what happened. About him firing you and all. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Or about as fine as she could be, considering she had no job and was the laughingstock of Daytona Beach.
“It’s been horrible at the store without you. And . . . I’ve been dying to talk to you.” She lifted her left hand in the air to show Grace the engagement ring.
“Pen!” Grace swallowed her up into a hug and the two of them did a jerky dance around the living room. “I have to say, after last night I’m not surprised!”
“He was willing to give it all up for me, Grace! His big dream of touring the country on his bike. I couldn’t do that to him. And now, I’m just so happy I could burst! We want to get married in early April on the beach, before it gets too hot. And afterward, we’ll take off on his bike for our honeymoon. And of course, you’ll be my maid of honor. Right?”
“Just as long as you don’t make me wear some kind of goofy prom dress. Or black leather.” Grace narrowed her eyes. “You’re not wearing black at your wedding, are you, Pen?”
Penny laughed. “No black leather at the wedding. Although I guess I’ll be wearing a lot of it on our road trip. What do you think? Penny Starr, biker chick.”
“You mean Penny Montgomery, biker chick.”
Penny looked ra
diant. It was the same look Sarah had on her face last night when Charlie swooped her through the door. Four months ago, who would have thought that Penny would be practically giddy at the thought of joining Butch on his motorcycle trip? Four days ago, who would have thought that Sarah would agree to a whirlwind elopement in Vegas wearing an off-the-rack dress from an airport shop? Love was a funny thing. It could make you forget the stuff you thought was important . . .
“After the trip, we’ll come back here and settle down. Your dad said he would keep my old job waiting for me.”
Pop must have made the same arrangement with Brandon that he’d mentioned to Grace, to keep the store open for the next three years. Grace fervently hoped so. She wasn’t ready to see Florida Charlie’s leveled. Not yet. Not ever.
“What . . . what was Pop’s reaction when you told him you were leaving?”
“He was great. He even offered to keep paying into my benefits so I’d still have health insurance while I’m off. He’s a pretty terrific guy.”
“Yeah, he is.” And Grace had let him down, only she didn’t want to think about that anymore. “Pen, I have something to tell you.”
“About Ellen calling into the radio show? God, it was awful!”
“Felix called in too, pretending to be some guy named Todd.”
“I know. We had the radio on all day in the office.”
Grace moaned. “Was Pop listening too?”
“All the employees were. And this thing with Ellen’s panties? Okay, at first, it was funny because, you know, Ellen totally deserved it. Anyone who’s dumb enough to call into Speedway’s show should know it isn’t going to end well for them. But she got mobbed everywhere she went on campus and she had to cancel all her classes and now she’s hiding out in her apartment.”
Penny was right. It wasn’t funny, but still . . .
“Doug can’t really sue us, can he? Or the store?” Penny asked.
“Of course not. At least, I don’t think so. I’ll have to get Charlie to look into that. Which reminds me, you’ve heard about Sarah and Charlie, right?”
