This was a mistake. Huck knew it the second he sat down at the table with Rachel across from him while soft music played in the background. He’d tried to choose a neutral place, but Alberto’s on the River apparently went for romance on Saturday nights. The lights were dim, the candles lit, and the wine flowing.

Rachel smiled. “Shall we order wine?”

“No.” The waiter sidled to the side of their table, and Huck ordered a beer. Rachel ordered wine, and then they both ordered the special, which was chicken piccata.

Rachel’s blond hair had grown even longer, and she looked pretty in a bright red dress with a tie at the side. “Reminds me of old times.”

He munched on a breadstick. “What do you have for my case? You said you had some information.”

She rolled her eyes, her blue gaze sparkling in the candlelight. “You never were much for foreplay.”

He nearly choked on the bread. That wasn’t true. He could remember spending hours one night just kissing her. Why did that seem so long ago? Like decades instead of just years. There was no way he was going to rise to that bait, so he finished chewing and swallowed. “Let’s keep it professional.” Although the ambiance of the place wasn’t helping any.

She flattened her hand on the table. A hand that had once held his ring—he’d let her keep it when he’d broken off the engagement. What else was he going to do with the diamond? “Don’t you miss us? We had some fun.”

They’d had a whirlwind romance and he’d liked her, but his focus had been on his job. Until that last case had broken him. “I’m not sure we really knew each other.” Oh, they’d been good in the sack, and they’d had some fun at a couple of her podcast fundraisers, but he hadn’t realized what made her tick. That ambition and getting her face on television would trump anything they might’ve created. “I’m not looking backward, Rachel.”

“Neither am I. But forward might be a good way to go.” She smiled, and he had to admit she looked lovely.

Yet her beauty no longer moved him. “What do you have for my case?” As the waiter brought their drinks, Huck leaned back and took a sip of the local lager.

“You first.” She twirled the rosé in her glass, watching the liquid catch the light.

What could he tell her that wouldn’t be too much? “What do you know?”