Page 63 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

“And he’s complaining about this?”

“Well, not exactly.” Some of the perkiness went out of her voice.

“And he’d rather be... where? The symphony?”

“Well...”

“The opening of a new gallery?”

“Well, I don’t—"

“Dinner at your parents’?"

There was a protracted silence.

“Marty, sweetheart, wake up and smell the coffee. Unless your boyfriend has been bound and gagged, chances are he’s a willing participant."

“But—”

“Men like strip clubs. That’s why they exist. You know, naked women shaking their ta-ta’s in your face? Guys love that stuff.”

“But they go every week. He stuffs money in their… well, Ihopehe’s only putting it in their garters.”

“Marty, it’s relaxation, an innocent taste of the unknown, a chance to unwind. A guy always appreciates a woman who understands that.”

“When will Dr. O be back?”

“Tonight, sweetheart. But believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Dr. O may not recognize the value of strip clubs in male bonding, but I do. Give the guy a break.”

Pleased, Matt waited out another batch of commercials—confirmation ofLiv Live’spopularity—and walked over to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

He couldn’t detect sound or movement from Olivia’s room, which meant she must still be asleep. He had no doubt she’d have been out of bed and dressed in a heartbeat if she could hear him doing her show. Truth was, he was starting to enjoy himself. Hell, you didn’t even have to stop and think about this stuff, you just told everybody the way things were and moved on to the next caller. He was practically performing a public service.

Matt took his coffee back to the control panel and sat down to wait out the end of the last commercial.

As woman after woman called to complain about the behavior of husband, boyfriend, or lover, he began to wonder how men and women ever managed to connect at all. Women obviously didn’t see things the way men did, and in his humble opinion, women wasted an inordinate amount of time worrying about how their relationships were going.

Other than trying to let women down easy, he’d never really stopped to think about what they might be feeling. And he’d certainly never fallen for any of their protestations of love for him. All he’d ever wanted was to have a good time.

His next caller was JoBeth, Dawg’s girlfriend, and he could tell from her tight little hello that she was not a happy camper. “I just want you to know that I don’t appreciate any of the advice you’ve given Dawg.”

“Me? Up until today, I’ve been very careful not to give advice. I just told him to stop sniveling and get on with his life.”

“You made him feel like there was no reason to make a commitment.”

“Hey, I just call ’em like I see ’em. It was not my intention to get in the middle of your life.”

“Well, you’re there. Smack dab in the center of it.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He wouldn’t have minded Olivia poking her head out about now.

“You told him to be a man and hang tough, Matt, whatever that means. Dawg Rollins loves me and I love him. And now we don’t live in the same house, and in an hour I’m going to be eating barbecue with an old boyfriend.” JoBeth’s voice broke.

“Jeez, JoBeth. Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying. I hate crying." She blew her nose. “It’s just that everything’s such a mess.”

Her misery traveled through the phone line and all but smacked him in the face. Had he ever really thought about what his comments to Dawg might mean to this woman? No, of course not. He’d been flip, half-assed, and unwilling to be bothered with their personal problems. Now, dangling on the hook as he was, he forced himself to think about his response.

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