He blew out a breath and smoothed down his tie. Those were the only kinds of topics he and Alison ever discussed anymore. He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d felt the tiniest zing of romance between the two of them.

But every Monday at eleven-thirty, Carolyn reminded him of what he was missing.

And if their innocent lunches gave him a lift—what was the harm in that?

She caught sight of him and raised a hand in greeting, her welcoming smile drawing him forward.

He wove through the bar toward her, tamping down another wave of guilt. His lunches with Carolyn were totally aboveboard and 100 percent business.

Except you enjoy them too much . . . and you’re flirting with danger . . . and you’re being unfair to Alison.

Fine.

That was all true.

And while nothing untoward had happened yet, if this kept up . . . if Carolyn ever gave him the slightest indication she was interested in taking their relationship to a different level . . . the urge to cave would be strong.

He should put an end to these meetings, remove the temptation.

And he would.

Soon.

But not today.

“I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.” Carolyn slid off the stool as he joined her.

“Sorry. It was crazy at the station this morning.”

“I’ll bet, after that fake bomb stunt.”

“I saw your article about it in Saturday’s paper. First-class reporting.”

“Thanks. I’m continuing to follow the story, but my sources at the PD say there’s nothing new.”

“That’s what Eve told me too.” He motioned toward the dining room. “Shall we claim our table?”

“By all means. I’m starving.”

She preceded him to their usual spot, plucked up her napkin, and draped it over her lap. “How’s Eve holding up?”

“The woman is a rock. In her shoes, I’d be seriously spooked. Are you having the usual?”

She gave a low, throaty laugh that juiced his libido. “You know me too well.”

“Your lunch preferences, in any case.” He swallowed, gave the order to the waiter, and handed the man the menus.

“I assume the police think the bomb person is a disgruntled listener.”

“They’re not saying much, but that would be my guess. The detective’s going to come by to review all the negative social media communication Eve gets. They also put a trap on our incoming phone line for the show.”

“And she’s not worried?”

“If she is, she’s doing a masterful job covering it.”

“You have to admire her guts—even if she could be taking a big chance. There’s a surplus of nuts out there these days. I’m not sure it’s worth putting your life at risk for a show.”

“What would you do in her place?”

She gave him a rueful look. “I wish I had that problem.”