By Any Means Read online

  I paced in a one-foot square, the only space clear of jumbled wires and cords behind the Karen Downing Show’s stage. My own little space. Some would be excited to pace in this spot before appearing on the world’s most popular talk show. I don’t know if excitement accurately described what I felt. An incredible experience for sure, but could it begin already?

  Karen started my introduction two minutes ago, but seemed more concerned with talking about herself than finishing it. My pounding heart drowned out most of her words. Employees of Infinity Entertainment scurried all around me. Only the headset-wearing production associate stood still.

  She slipped one side of her headphones off her ear and smiled. “Wow. I think you’re the calmest person who’s ever been on the show.”

  Calm? I suppressed a snort. Adrenaline sent tendrils of numbness down my legs. I continued to pace but wobbled like my legs had been replaced with someone else’s.

  Karen’s voice boomed over the sound system. “Please welcome to the show, relationship expert and author of the book, Love Simplified, Tempest Day.”

  I walked from behind the partition, the studio’s bright lights whiting out my vision. After a few seconds, the colors of the room returned, the audiences smiling faces clear. I turned to face them, returning their smiles and waving with one hand. My best friend, Allie, insisted that all talk show guests enter waving like Miss America. She stressed that there were no do-overs on live television so my entrance needed to be perfect. I wouldn’t know. Of all the TV shows I watched, daytime talk shows ranked last on my list. How could anyone stomach such pretense everyday?

  The crowd continued to applaud as I crossed the stage to stand beside Karen, who looked considerably older in person. Much older and the foundation packed in her wrinkles like mortar between bricks wasn’t helping. I smoothed my skirt, which did nothing for my nerves. Ten minutes and this segment for Karen’s book club would be over. I could behave for ten minutes.

  Karen enveloped me in a This-is-My-BFF hug. I returned her embrace like this wasn’t the first time I’d seen her in person. I waved at the audience once more before we took our seats. Allie would like that.

  Karen waited until the applause tapered off. “Love Simplified hit shelves last month and debuted at number fifteen on the New York Times Bestseller List.”

  My heart fluttered. New York Times bestseller. How sweet the sound. “Yes. It is available in bookstores nationwide.”

  I caught a glimpse of Dane Watson, my literary agent, sitting stage left. He gave me a thumbs-up, a balm for my nerves.

  “Why did you decide to write this book?” Karen read from the blue cards in her hands. Just as expected. Her assistant producer had emailed me the questions last week.

  I ran my hands along the luxurious fabric of my chair’s armrests. “A woman asked me to compile tips I’d gathered from hosting my Connection Parties. As I did, I realized other women might be interested in having relationship help at their fingertips.” Flawless execution of my prepared answer.

  Karen leaned forward. “Yes, explain how those parties worked. I know it’s been awhile since you’ve hosted one.”

  I crossed my ankles. “My clients filled out a detailed questionnaire categorized into seven sections.”

  “Your seven-points system?”

  I smiled. “Yes. I sorted the responses and hosted a party for the clients who matched on at least four points.”

  “So your parties are like most online dating services that match couples based on compatibility?”

  I glanced at the audience. Almost every eye was trained on me. Some women even leaned forward in their seats. Joy rippled down my spine. Their riveted attention meant more book sales. “The two are similar. At my Connection Parties, however, my clients met in person, minimizing the risk of deception that comes with online dating. More importantly, my clients also received personalized relationship counseling.”

  Karen glanced down at her cards. “Do you still throw the parties?”

  Memories of college flickered through my mind. The parties kept me going through those tough years. “No, I stopped once I graduated from college.”

  Karen paused and I held my breath. She held my gaze for a second longer than confortable, then returned to her cards. “You had a hand in connecting West McKenna and Jemma Vega.”

  The audience’s applause roared over my sigh of relief that Karen stuck to the cards. I straightened my lilac cardigan and laughed. “They attended one of my parties while they were in college.”

  West and Jemma were currently the hottest celebrity couple in Hollywood. Not only were they incredible actors, they were one of the cutest pairs I’d ever connected. And one of the nicest. I never imagined that connecting those two would play such a big role in the fulfillment of my greatest dream. A venture perfect for sharing on national TV, just the type of exclusive Karen would love to have. But I couldn’t say anything. Not yet anyway.

  “I understand you get a Thank You card each year on their anniversary.”

  “I do. West and Jemma are very thoughtful people.”

  Karen’s expression grew serious, perfect for her next question. She should do more acting. Her change of emotion seemed natural and spontaneous even though it wasn’t. “West and Jemma speak very highly of your methods, but not everyone does. Several relationship counselors have spoken against your methods, stating that the book oversimplifies the process of falling in love. What do you say to that?”

  I schooled my face to match Karen’s serious expression and not betray the tiny flash of anger I felt. The couples I’d helped proved my methods worked, contrary to my contemporaries’ opinions. “I never suggested that falling in love didn’t require effort.” Nor could I. Not with my love life. “My goal was to simplify the process.”

  Karen crossed her shapely legs, an interesting contrast to the rest of her body. “Your book doesn’t guarantee love?”

  “No one can guarantee love. My book is only meant to provide a guideline to make it easier to find love. It helps set the right atmosphere.”

  Several women seated near the front nodded their heads. I smiled in their direction.

  Karen placed her blue cards face down in her lap. “We have a question from the audience.”

  The air in the room contracted until I thought my ears would pop. Question from the audience? There weren’t supposed to be any questions from the audience. Karen’s producer assured me that this segment would not include Q&A. I kept my smile in place despite the urge to flip Karen’s chair over, twist her arms behind her back and make her eat her blue cards. Behave, Tempest.

  A woman rose from her seat with a microphone in her hand. Her physical appearance so closely mirrored mine that I did a double take. Slender, probably one hundred and twenty-five pounds. Caramel brown skin and high cheekbones. Long black hair pulled up in a smooth ponytail, my favorite hairstyle. I couldn’t quite make out if her wide eyes were the same shade of brown as mine, but she could be my sister, or at least my cousin. Nothing good would come from facing myself.

  “Hi, Tempest.” The way she said my name set my nerves on edge. I fingered the edge of my sweater. Ugh. Don’t fidget. I placed my hands in my lap and followed another rule Allie gave me: When all else fails, keep smiling.

  “Which of the steps in your book did you find the most helpful in your personal quest for love?”

  My personal quest for love… my heart jack-knifed. I recovered with a forced laugh while shooting a quick glance at Karen.

  “Which steps did I find most helpful?” Rapid prayers filled my thoughts.

  “Yes, when you were going through the process of falling in love, which step did you find most helpful?” Sister-cousin asked again as if my stall tactic required a response.

  A bead of sweat formed under my hairline and threatened to roll down my forehead. “Uh, I…” No one had ever asked me that question. Leading up to the book’s release, I’d done seven appearances on local television programs an
d interviews in four major magazines. I’d lost count of the number of blogs and newspapers that interviewed me while I struggled to establish my name. Now, in the perfect marketing situation, the summit one might say, this question rang in the air like a death knell.

  Sister-cousin didn’t back down. She frowned at me, the same way I would have if someone had evaded my question. I glanced at Karen. Her innocent look rankled me. More great acting.

  Sister-cousin brought the microphone closer to her mouth. “You have actually used your principles in your own love life?” The volume of her question seemed to echo around the room.

  I swallowed. “I–It’s complicated.” Way too complicated for a ten-minute segment.

  Several people in the audience frowned. Others folded their arms. My eyes found Dane’s. Worry crinkled his expression, sending my heart on a gallop.

  “You’ve never used your own principles?” Karen jumped in now.

  “I filled out my questionnaire—“ A loud groan erupted from the audience, peppered with a few catcalls. The cameraman in front of me shifted to better pan the unhappy faces of the crowd.

  Sister-cousin pointed at me. “Why should we believe anything you say about finding love?”

  “Because…” Not good starting a sentence with a conjunction. Shows defensiveness. I sat up straight in my chair, squaring my shoulders. “The methods in the book have been proven to work for numerous couples.” I tried to flash my best smile but my teeth had dried and swallowing didn’t help push down the lump in my throat.

  “Have you even been in a relationship?” Sister-cousin asked.

  I shot Karen a glare, hoping she would read the aren’t-you-the-host-so-control-your-audience message in it. She glared back so slightly that only someone sitting inches from her would have noticed.

  I turned to face Sister-cousin. “Yes, of course.”

  Karen leaned forward, her eyes narrowing like she was preparing for the kill shot. “But you’ve never been in love?”

  “No.”

  There. I said it. I’ve never been in love. No matter how my heart longed for it, how I’d dreamed of finding Mr. Right, love had eluded me and left me to drown in the irony. My career was now dead.

  Karen raised one eyebrow, her smug expression prickling my ire. “You’re admitting you’ve deceived the American public by offering advice that hasn’t helped you.”

  My head snapped back like I’d been slapped. Was the woman who made millions from this fluffy daytime deception of a show calling me dishonest? I worked long and hard on my book and had years of experience dealing with relationships. I gritted my teeth to control my tongue but it would not submit. A small voice in my head that sounded like Allie urged me to let her comment pass.

  A louder voice, one I should have ignored because it constantly led me into trouble, spoke up. You want to play hardball, Karen? Game on.

  I folded my arms. “Don’t you deceive the American public every time this show airs? You dish out half-baked advice about matters beyond your experience all the time. At least I’m a certified counselor. What are your qualifications? A couple of years as a news anchor?”

  The audience gasped, and Karen’s jaw fell slack.

  “Excuse me?” Her head wagged and the nice, tolerant Karen disappeared.

  “If I’ve deceived the American public, then so have you. You lead people to believe that all this happens spontaneously, but it’s staged from beginning to end.” I pointed to Sister-cousin who flinched when I did. “Was she staged, Karen?”

  Karen jumped to her feet, anger twisting her features. Guess she didn’t like her faults being exposed on national TV either. If she thought I was going to sit and look pretty, she was mistaken. The audience erupted in a fit of chaos that was more in line with a Jerry Springer episode. The crew rushed to get a camera in better position for the showdown.

  I stood and put my hands on my hips. I didn’t have New York sister girl flavor like Karen, but my Gammy made sure I had a whole lot of North Carolina southern girl toughness.

  “How dare you come on my show and insult me?” Only inches separated us.

  “How dare you try and make me look like a fraud.”

  “You are a fraud.”

  “Am not.” My voice betrayed me with a juvenile squeak.

  “You’ve never been in love.” Karen jabbed her finger in my face with each word.

  The room grew hotter. I opened my mouth to enumerate the wonders of Karen’s bizarre love life when arms grabbed me and rushed me off the stage.

  I craned my neck to see Dane’s stocky build behind me. He tucked me under his arm like a football and zipped me into the Green Room. We grabbed my things and exited the studio’s back door.

  The bright sunlight of a perfect California sunny day blinded me, but the storm clouds on the horizon were hard to miss.