introduced them at the table. “Joe, this is Charlie Tenniel, the new ten-to-two DJ. I’m producing his show.”
“I heard. Karen called.”
Joe shot Allie a look that appeared to be sympathy, but Allie had already turned back to Charlie. “Charlie, this is Joe Ericson, my roommate. He’s the station’s accountant.”
She sounded like a well-behaved child, but she didn’t look like one. Charlie began to wonder what Allie was like when she wasn’t behaving well in public. No. That sort of thought would add those complications he’d been avoiding.
“Charlie Tenniel.” Joe’s smile was open and admiring as he held out his hand. “Are you the one they call Ten Tenniel?”
Ouch. He hated lying, but it was better than “No, that’s my brother, the drug-dealing DJ.” He shook his head. “Call me Charlie.”
Joe kept going. “I’ve heard about you. I’ve got a friend down in Lawrenceville who was very upset when you disappeared. I’m looking forward to hearing you myself now.”
His smile was genuine, and Charlie liked him.
“Who in Lawrenceville?” Allie had already seated herself and picked up the menu. “I’m starving.”
Joe sat down next to her. “Rona. Remember? From that seminar we took?”
Charlie took the chair across from her so he could watch her.
“Right. You kept in touch with Rona?” Allie ran her finger down the menu list. “Pasta.”
“I keep in touch with everybody.” Joe tapped Allie’s menu. “Not pasta. I’ll do pasta tomorrow night. Get something here that’s a pain in the butt to make. You like pasta, Charlie?”
Charlie started. Joe and Allie were so in sync in their conversation, he was a little surprised to be suddenly included. “Yep.”
“Come to dinner tomorrow night.”
Charlie beamed his best smile at him. “Thanks.” Another contact at the station. First Allie, then Mark, now Joe. And he’d only been in town a couple of hours. God, he was good.
Allie glared at Joe.
Joe mock-glared back. “Don’t look at me like that. I want to get to know Ten Tenniel.”
“Charlie,” Charlie said. “Just call me Charlie.”
ALLIE WASN’T SURE how she felt about Charlie. He’d done a nice job of saving her from Mark, but he’d laughed the whole time he was doing it, which made her feel like a dweeb. Of course, he had a point: panic was not a good look for her. Don’t do that again, she told herself and turned back to the problem at hand.
She now had to work with a guy who’d kissed her in a bar. This was not a good way to start a professional relationship, especially since he was quite a good kisser. It would be hard to say no if he ever suggested they try that again, and of course she’d have to say no because sleeping with the talent was not a good idea. Look what had happened with Mark. No, forget about Mark. Socializing with Charlie was not a good idea, which was why she’d tried to look quelling when he suggested he eat with Joe and her, but Charlie didn’t quell easily. In fact, Charlie didn’t quell at all.
He did seem taken aback when he saw Joe for the first time. Allie considered her roommate as she sat beside him. Part of Joe’s impact came from the fact that he was such a good man, so everything he was sort of infused his face, and his face was perfect, so people just felt good just looking at him. She felt good just looking at him now. She’d talk this whole job mess out with him later, and everything would make sense.
But Joe did have his faults. Food, for instance.
He’d picked up his menu and was studying it as if there’d be a quiz at the end of the meal, which actually there would be. He’d say, “Too much oregano. And where was the basil? Obvious seasoning. Sure sign of a clumsy chef. What about the asparagus?” He could go for days on just a side dish. But for right now, all he did was gesture at the menu and ask, “What do you think?”
Allie prepared for the usual battle. She was still nauseated from the stress of the afternoon, so a large slab of dead animal did not appeal. But she had to eat or she’d pass out, and she had to choose something that Joe hated to make, or he’d be insulted. “Manicotti,” she decided. “The last time you made that, you bitched about stuffing all that pasta.”
“Not manicotti. Mine’s better than here. Get a steak.”
“I don’t want a steak. I want pasta.”
“Well, don’t come home tomorrow and say, ‘Pasta? We just had pasta.’”
Charlie looked from one to the other. “You guys been together long?”
Allie laughed at the annoyance in his voice. “You sound just like Mark.”
“Yeah, and speaking of Mark, what was that?” Joe frowned at her. “You and Mark having a drink together after he fired you?”
“Yeah.” Charlie frowned at her, too. “What was that? I was there, and I didn’t understand it.”
Allie slumped back in her chair, her lousy day returning in full force. “That was my worst nightmare. That’s why I picked up Charlie. I didn’t want Mark to think I still…you know.”
“We know.” Joe looked at Charlie. “She’s usually not this wimpy. In fact, she’s usually very confident. It’s just Mark that makes her act like she’s twelve again.”
Charlie nodded. “You should have been at the bar. She was practically incoherent.”
“I was not.” Allie stuck out her chin and tried to look strong and defiant, and Charlie snorted. She gave up then and dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, hell.”
Joe patted her head. “There, there. You have me.”
“Oh, good,” Allie said without raising her head. “That’s a comfort.”
“Now order,” Joe said. “And don’t screw up.”
Allie finally got Joe to agree that she could have the chicken fettuccini since he wanted a taste of it himself. Chickens weren’t really dead animals, she reasoned, ready to contemplate anything except her future. They were more like protein with feathers. Joe and Charlie ordered prime rib, and Joe gave the waitress lavish instructions on their side dishes, which she copied down word for word, having served him before. When the waitress was gone, Joe remembered that he hadn’t designed Allie’s vegetables, and Allie argued that she wanted hers plain, and he said that was no way to live, and they were off on one of their usual arguments with lots of laughing, when Charlie interrupted.
“So, how long have you known each other?”
“Four years,” Joe said. “Ever since she came to the station.”
Allie relaxed and smiled at Joe. “I was new in town and didn’t have a place to live, and he was at the station picking up the books, and his roommate had just moved out, so he said I could borrow the spare bedroom until I found a place.”
Joe grinned. “And then she came home with me, and we talked and laughed until two in the morning, and I said, ‘Don’t find another place,’ and we’ve been together ever since.”
Charlie looked from Joe to Allie, and he didn’t look happy. Allie stopped smiling, wondering what she’d said that was wrong, not really caring as long as it wasn’t another major trauma to deal with. Then Charlie said, “I don’t get this. If Joe is the perfect man, why did you ever get mixed up with that clown, Mark?”
Joe blinked at him. “I’m the perfect man?”
“That’s what Allie says.”
Joe raised his eyebrows at her. “I’m flattered.”
Allied