Chapter One

Evelyn Rhodes tossed the headset onto the console just as the director yelled, "Cut." Another day, another group of young women armed with the knowledge of which men had fathered their children. As she turned to leave the control room, the new intern, Aisha, came barreling through the door.

"Mr. Edmundson wants you to come to his office."

Evelyn looked through the glass to the stage where everyone was shutting down.

Aisha leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I think he means right now."

Evelyn nodded. Harry always wanted everything right now. She scanned her memory for a reason he would demand her presence. Not sweeps week. No fights had broken out on-camera recently, so there was no legal action. "I'm coming," she said as a means to dismiss Aisha. Before heading upstairs, she stopped by her office for a fresh cup of coffee, even though it was a mistake to drink more at four in the afternoon.

She shook her hair loose from the ponytail she swept it up in for the duration of filming. Then she slipped her blazer back on. Although she and Harry were friendly enough to be on a first-name basis, he was still her boss. She always appeared professional in front of him.

Outside Harry's office on the eighth floor, his secretary waved her in. Evelyn edged through the door and asked, "Leave it open?"

Whether the door remained open or closed often hinted at the topic of the meeting. Harry always liked the door closed if he was going to yell. Not that the solid wood kept the conversation muffled. Harry had a booming voice that carried everywhere.

"Closed."

Damn. She gave the door a gentle push and crossed the room. Harry pointed to the chairs in front of his desk without looking up. As she stared at the top of his scalp peeking through snowy white hair, she pondered what might've happened that she could be held responsible for. She came up with nothing.

She sipped her coffee and waited. Harry had a great corner office that overlooked the lower half of the Loop. The TV station wasn't one of the major networks, but as far as a local station went, they did pretty well. She often considered if she would like his job—in this office—but she wasn't ready to give up her time in the trenches. She liked to be hands-on.

"How are things downstairs?" He made eye contact, a soft smile on his face. He leaned back in his chair and rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows.

"Good." She cradled her cup and tried to decipher where he was going.

"I have some news. Well, more like rumors."

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," she said with a smirk. "Unless it's good. Then I'll take credit."

That drew a laugh from him. "The Women in Media group will announce the nominees for their annual awards soon."

This wasn't news to her. Early on in her career, she'd waited for them eagerly, sure she would at least get nominated. More than a decade later, she no longer held out hope.

Harry leaned forward, pressing his forearms on his desk. "I think this is your year."

"What?"

"Nothing official yet, but I have friends who think you're getting nominated."

She smiled and gripped her cup tighter to prevent herself from jumping up and dancing.

"Needless to say, having an award-winning producer on staff would be a boon for the station."

And it would finally be her chance to pitch the show she'd been thinking about for months, holding out for just the right time. She'd thought sweeps week would be good—at least if they performed well. But this…this was better.

"Don't go telling anyone yet, but I wanted to give you the heads-up."

"Thank you." As long as his intel was good, and really, Harry wouldn't say anything unless he was sure. "While I'm here, if you have a few more minutes, I have something I'd like to run by you."

"Shoot."

"I've been thinking about developing a new show. Trent Talks is doing well, and Luke or Tanya could take over producing."

Harry sat back in his oversize leather chair, propped his elbows on the armrests, and steepled his fingers. At least she had his attention.

"I'd like to do a morning talk show. Something lighter, like feel-good Oprah. I have an acquaintance who would be fabulous. She's not a journalist, but she's the kind of person that others open up to."

"There are already a crap-ton of morning talk shows. How would you stand out?"

"I want it to be Chicago-centric. We have a wealth of brilliant people right here in our city who are fascinating. I'm not saying we would never have outside guests, like celebrities visiting the city for performances and such, but I want to primarily focus on locals. Authors, CEOs, actors, musicians. Give our people a shout-out on TV. Show the world that Chicago is more than rats, guns, and pizza."

He nodded, his fingers rubbing against his lips, but he said nothing. Evelyn wasn't giving him a full-blown pitch, but with Harry, it was good to strike whenever given the chance.

"I'll think about it. Get me some numbers, staffing, and show ideas and we'll talk again."

"I'll have it to you by next week." She rose. "Thanks for your time."

"Keep doing what you're doing. You're one of our best."

With another smile and nod, she headed out of his office. She contained her excitement until she got to the elevator. On her way down, she shimmied a little dance and texted Owen to tell him to come over for dinner.

…

Owen Hanson took off his helmet and set it on the head of a seven-year-old who looked up at him in awe. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but pulling it out from under his turnout gear was a pain in the ass, so whoever was texting would have to wait.

"Hey, Owen. Can you take a picture of us by the truck?" Sam called as he ran by.

Owen looked down at little Hector, whose head was swallowed by the helmet. He tilted the brim so he could see the boy's face. "Hold on to that for me, would you?"

Hector smiled and nodded, knocking the brim back down over his eyes.

Owen turned back to the fire truck, where a group of teenage boys were huddled near the door. They were tough kids who would never admit to wanting to hang around the truck, but his firehouse stopped by the youth center a couple times a year, and they always had a crowd. He took a couple shots with Sam's phone, one with the boys smiling and one with them all making faces.

Sam raced back for his phone. "Thanks."

Sandra, the center's director, came up beside him. "They love this, you know."

"Yeah. Fire trucks bring out the kid in all of us."

She shook her head. "It's more than that. Even though you've told them that you're a firefighter, it doesn't really click until they see this." She pointed at the truck and then at him in his gear. "This shows them that a real hero spends time with them. Cares about them."

His cheeks warmed. He loved his job, but this kind of comment made him uneasy. "I'm not a hero. I just do my job."

"Don't sell yourself short. These kids don't interact with enough positive role models. For weeks after this, they'll be looking at you with stars in their eyes."

He did these visits as a way to talk about fire safety and give the older kids a chance to see that they had options for real careers. It was never about painting himself as a hero. But he thought back to his childhood and the field trip to the firehouse that had made him decide his career path. He'd looked at those firefighters as heroes, too. Now he worked with a lot of good men, none of whom considered themselves heroes.

An hour later, he was riding in the jump seat to return to the station. He wasn't on duty today, so all he had to do was turn in his gear. On the short trip back to the house, he finally pulled out his phone. The text he'd missed was from Evelyn telling him to come over for dinner.

"Hey, I know that look. Someone just got a sext from a hottie," Jamal said beside him.

Owen shook his head. He dismissed most of what came out of Jamal's mouth because the guy was young. "I'm too old for that shit."

"Never too old for naked women."

"I don't need a picture. I like the live-and-in-person version." He tucked his phone away. "And that was just Evelyn."

Jamal groaned. "It's always just Evelyn . Man, if you ain't gonna hit that, she should be open market."

Owen shot him another look. "Evelyn is off-limits."

"Why? Afraid of a little competition?"

"There is no competition."

"So you don't want her, but no one else can have her?"

"Yeah, something like that." It wasn't about wanting or not wanting her. He couldn't have her. Or at least he shouldn't. But the thought of Evelyn being with a guy he worked with rubbed him wrong. She dated other people, just like he did. But she held a special place in his life. The one person he could count on, no matter what. "I highly doubt you could handle a woman like her anyway."

Jamal barked out laughter and began listing his various sexual conquests. Owen let him ramble, because he knew Jamal didn't have a chance. It was one of the unwritten rules he had with Evelyn. They didn't date each other's colleagues because it would mess with their friendship.

While Jamal talked, Owen pulled his phone back out and asked Evelyn if he should pick up dinner.

Got it covered.

8?

Better make it 8:30 otherwise I'll be late.

Like every day.

She sent back an emoji of a middle finger. Her favorite symbol. But she knew he was right. She always said she was going to be home earlier than she was. It was one of the reasons he had a key to her condo. At least a few nights a week, they had dinner together and hung out. He'd gotten tired of sitting in his car waiting on her, so she'd given him a key. Doing that had saved their friendship.

Before he had a chance to put his phone away, Tara texted to see if he was free for dinner. He paused. They'd gone on a couple dates, and he enjoyed her company, but there was nothing special there. Was she worth skipping dinner with Evelyn?

Weighing what his night might look like, he responded that he already had plans.

They pulled into the station, and the guys all hopped out and stowed their gear. After saying goodbye to everyone and thanking the captain for letting him borrow the truck for the youth center, he drove straight to Evelyn's house. Even though she wouldn't be home for a couple hours, he'd find something to watch on TV while he waited.

…

That night, Evelyn was still riding the high of a possible award nomination. It was silly, especially because the information was based on gossip, but she wanted it. She'd tried to convince herself that awards and recognition like that didn't matter, but part of her wanted others to know how good she was. She wasn't just some cute girl who'd slept her way into her position. She'd earned her way there, and the award would prove it.

Owen's car was already parked in the guest spot for her condo, which was no surprise. He routinely made himself at home in her place. She did the same at his.

Honestly, she preferred his place. He had a small house with a cute yard for his dog, Probie. She loved being greeted by Probie. The huge dog acted like a poodle, always trying to climb on her lap for love. Her condo was nice, but not homey. Even though she'd lived there for the better part of a decade, it was still just a place to live. She'd grown up in a house where something was always falling apart and her mother had never had the time or money to fix it. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't live like that when she was grown.

Of course, it took until she was grown to understand what homeownership meant. She'd never wanted a house because of the upkeep. Like her single mom, she worked too many hours to devote to things like maintenance, which was why she enjoyed Owen's place. He took care of everything.

She smiled as she rode the elevator up to her floor. Hell, he took care of everything in her place, too. She never called the building maintenance guy. Owen just fixed things. She sometimes wondered why her mom hadn't had an Owen in her life. There had been boyfriends here and there, but no one reliable. Evelyn couldn't even remember any of their names.

As she unlocked the door, she heard the murmur of the TV. Setting her keys on the counter, she listened. Damn. It didn't sound like sports, which meant Owen was watching a movie. He only watched two kinds of movies—action and old black-and-white ones. She could handle a cheesy action flick, but the old movies always put her to sleep.

She walked to the living room and found Owen asleep on her couch. Sure enough, on the TV was a movie made in the forties. She nudged him with her leg as she sidled past to put the food on the table.

"Wake up, Grandpa."

He stretched, his blue Chicago Fire Department T-shirt riding up. She shouldn't want to peek at that, but what sane woman could resist? The trail of hair that led into his pants was sexy.

Damn Nina for making her rethink her life. Last summer, when their friend Tess was debating stepping back into the dating pool, Nina had challenged everyone in their support group to actively look for partners for their lives. They had all been divorced for years, and they had come together as friends based on the idea of moving on with their lives after divorce. In their New Beginnings group, both Tess and Trevor had found love after Nina's prodding. Evelyn, not so much.

She also hadn't found herself checking out her best friend until Nina had pointed out that she and Owen should be more than friends.

His biceps flexed as he rubbed his hands over his face. "Huh?"

"Between the old movie and you falling asleep before the sun sets, you're like a grandpa." Shoving thoughts of Nina and her silly challenge aside, she plopped next to him.

He pinched her thigh playfully. "I had a long day. Took the truck to the youth center for the kids."

"Sounds like an excuse to me. I've been up since five thirty."

"Whatever. What'd you get for dinner?" He slid forward and began ripping open bags. "Burgers," he said almost reverently.

He loved a good burger.

"You spoil me."

"This is an almost-celebration dinner."

"A what?"

She accepted the Styrofoam container he handed her. "Harry called me into his office today. It's not official yet, but he thinks I'm up for an award from Women in Media."

He squinted at her as he chewed his food. "Is that the one you drag me to every year? I have to wear a tux and fake smile and politely clap the whole time you're miserable?"

She'd just taken a bite of burger and choked at his description. She shouldn't laugh, but he was basically right. While she continued to cough into her napkin, Owen got up and got them drinks. After a few sips, she was able to breathe. She wiped her eyes. "It doesn't make me miserable to be there. I know some of the people nominated. It's a networking thing. See people and be seen."

"Sure," he said completely unconvincingly. "What about all the fake smiling?"

"The whole business is fake." He hated that part of her job. She wasn't too fond of it, either, but she did what was necessary. She ate some more of her food.

"If this is your celebration, why are we eating my favorite food?"

"Food isn't as important to me as it is to you. If I win, I'll celebrate with champagne. This is big."

He set his burger down. Looking straight into her eyes, he said, "I'm not trying to say that it's not. I'm proud of you. They'd be stupid to not recognize how good you are at your job."

He had no idea whether or not she was any good at her job, but his pride was genuine. It was one of the many reasons he was the first person she turned to with good news. He supported her even when he didn't fully understand. That kind of unconditional love was hard to come by. "And if I win, I'll have the clout I need to push for creating the new show I've been thinking about."

"Finally tired of ‘Who's the Baby Daddy' episodes?"

"I want to do a daytime talk with a local spin."

He nodded but asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means I'll have a host—you remember Marilyn? I introduced you at a charity thing last summer—anyway, we've talked on occasion. She'd be perfect for the camera, and she has connections all over the city. She can reach anyone."

"Anyone?"

"If she doesn't have the connection, she knows someone who does. People like her. She can get them to talk and keep it interesting. I've never seen someone work a room like she does. Plus, she's gorgeous. The audience will eat it up."

He finished the last of his burger and sipped from the can of pop. "Why don't you do it?"

She gave him a look like he'd lost his mind. "I'm not a host. I hate being in front of the camera."

"Why? You're as gorgeous as Marilyn. And people talk to you all the time."

"I'm not an on-camera personality. I couldn't do it. Besides, I'd get fired after I dropped a few F-bombs. That's a huge no-no on camera." She ate a few more bites of her burger before handing him the rest.

Of course, he wolfed it down. She couldn't even be jealous that he ate like that. He worked out all the time to stay in shape for his job. She, on the other hand, only grudgingly walked on the treadmill a few times a week. She'd rather eat only half the burger and not have to work out.

Owen scooped up all of their trash and took it to the kitchen. Evelyn slipped off her shoes and changed the channel before he came back.

"What did Harry say?"

"About what?" she asked absently as she caught the start of the local news. Heat wave at the tail end of summer in the city. Another shoot-out in a Chicago neighborhood. A bystander killed.

Owen muted the TV. "What did Harry say about your show idea? You told him about it, didn't you?"

She blinked and turned her focus to him. "Kind of. I knew I had to strike while he was having good thoughts about me. So I mentioned it, but I didn't give him a formal pitch. He told me to run some numbers and he'd take a look."

Owen snorted.

"What?"

"If you've been thinking about it, you already have a pitch and numbers and everything Harry could possibly want. It's what you do."

Her skin warmed. Sometimes she forgot how well he knew her. He acted like he didn't pay attention to things, but he did. "Well, it's not like I carry the information around with me."

He shot her a look. "But you have it."

"Yes. But that's not the way things work. Especially with Harry. He needs to be eased into it. If I just whipped out a file to give him the full plan, he'd feel blindsided."

"Instead, you're going to weasel your way in?"

"Not quite the way I would put it, but yeah." She settled back into the couch, leaning against him comfortably. "Weaseling. Schmoozing. It's the glamorous life I lead."

"I'll take the danger of a fire over schmoozing any day." His arm settled around her shoulder. "Mike and Abby are having their end-of-the-season cookout Sunday. You coming?"

"Sure. What should I bring?"

"Something store-bought."

"I'm not that bad a cook," she said, giving him a shove.

"Sure." He paused and then said, "Watch out for Jamal."

"Why?" She thought about the young firefighter who was always quick with a joke or a boastful story.

"He thinks he has a shot to be with you."

"Oh, really? And why wouldn't he?"

He stiffened against her. "Would you want to go out with him?"

Sometimes Owen made it far too easy to fuck with him. "We both know he's not looking to date me. He is a young, good-looking guy. I bet his stamina is amazing."

Owen grunted.

"Down, boy. I'm teasing." She stifled a laugh. She was far past the point of playing with boys. She was old enough to understand the value of a good man. "How did the youth center go today?"

"Good. The usual. Kids love the truck. Little ones like to play with our gear."

"Everything you do for that center and the kids…it's cool. You're a good guy."

"Not so good that I'm letting you get away with changing the channel." He snatched the remote and put his movie back on. "Trust me. You'll like this one."

She didn't care about the movie but she couldn't complain about hanging with her best friend, while stretched out on her couch, watching something he enjoyed. Today had been a good day.

…

Owen used his key to let himself into Evelyn's condo. He didn't bother ringing first, because he knew she wouldn't be ready, and making her stop to answer the door would just make them later. When she was his date for an event, he always gave her the wrong time, because she was always late.

But since they were going to Tess's engagement party, and Tess was a friend to both of them, he couldn't lie about what time to be ready.

"I'm here," he called out.

She peeked around the corner that led to her bedroom. "Almost ready," she said with a wink.

If the shimmery blue strap on her shoulder was any indication, she wasn't even dressed. He sighed. "Got any beer?"

"In the fridge. But you know there's an open bar, right?"

"Yeah, but Miles's family is throwing this party, and there's no telling what hoity-toity shit they'll have." He liked Tess's boyfriend—fiancé. He was a good guy who treated Tess and her kids well. But he came from money. The kind of money guys like Owen never even considered a possibility in this lifetime.

"They're rich. That means top-shelf liquor all the way," she yelled.

Maybe she had a point. He looked in her fridge and saw she only had two bottles. They were his favorite beer, which she kept just for him. He couldn't remember the last time she had something in the fridge for anyone else.

He grabbed a glass and filled it with water. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he scrolled through his phone.

"Wow. Talk about a GQ moment," she said.

He looked up from his phone, and like a cartoon character, his tongue almost rolled out of his mouth to drag on the floor.

Their gazes locked and something passed between them. A charged, heated look that told him she sometimes had the same passionate thoughts about them that he had. Then she blinked. Did I imagine the silent conversation?

"New suit?" she asked while fiddling with earrings. Her head tilted to shift her hair out of her way, exposing her long neck.

He nodded, unsure of his ability to form words. He thought he'd seen Evelyn in every kind of dress and suit imaginable. But this dress made her mouthwateringly beautiful. It was the same shimmery blue of whatever she had on underneath—he had to work to prevent himself from thinking about that—and it hugged every part of her.

"Wow," he finally blurted.

She smiled and curtsied. "Thank you. That's the reaction I was going for."

His heart rate kicked up. She wanted him to have that reaction? He swallowed hard. "You're even more stunning than usual."

She stepped closer and patted his chest. "You're looking pretty good yourself. What made you break down and finally get a new suit?"

"I got tired of you telling me I was being cheap by not buying one."

"I don't think I ever called you cheap. But you did wear that suit for a decade."

"It fit."

She sighed in a way that said he was hopeless.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep." She held up her purse and turned to leave.

His eyes trailed from the sexy heels that made her nearly his height, up over bare legs to the curve of her ass. That's when he saw that the back of her dress didn't exist. An expanse of bare skin for anyone to see. He continued to talk to distract himself. "I still can't believe Tess asked Miles to marry her."

Evelyn looked over her shoulder. "Why?"

"Didn't it bother Miles?"

She turned completely around. "Is this some macho guy thing? It's the man's job to propose?"

Heat crawled up his neck. Evelyn had a habit of calling him out for being a Neanderthal. He didn't think he was acting like a caveman; he was just old-fashioned. "I'm traditional."

She tilted her head and studied him. "Even now, after everything with Stacy? You already did the whole down-on-one-knee, big wedding thing."

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"I've never heard you talk about marriage. Hell, I never thought you'd trust another woman enough to want to tie yourself to her."

He shrugged. "I didn't say I was looking to get married again, just that if I did, I would want to pop the question."

He considered admitting that she was the only woman he'd trusted in a long time, but then again, they were friends. They weren't sleeping together, so she couldn't cheat on him. But marriage? Could he open himself up for that again?

They walked out to the hallway, and Evelyn locked up. Another thought occurred to him because of her questioning.

"You think you'll remarry?" he asked. It wasn't something that he'd really considered with them. Even as their friends were falling in love and starting new lives, he thought he and Evelyn would always have each other. But if she got married…

"I don't know. I'm not actively looking, if that's what you're wondering." She pressed the elevator button. "But there's part of me that misses having someone to come home to."

The elevator doors swooshed open. She took his arm and leaned close. "And regular sex. I miss regular sex," she said in a low voice.

He jabbed the button for the lobby. Evelyn talking about sex shouldn't have his dick perking up. He knew that, but his dick obviously didn't. He cleared his throat. "I'm pretty sure you could get laid whenever you want."

She laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "A random hookup isn't the same."

Her body pressed against him made him think about getting laid. Her soft curves lined up along his body, and he briefly imagined her lying beneath him.

Of course she was right. She wasn't talking about getting off. That was easy to find, but the connection with someone who mattered was something they both missed. They had that connection with each other, albeit not quite the same.

On the way to the party, Evelyn chatted about work. Then they talked about his brother's wedding, which was coming up in a little over a month.

"Did you schedule your vacation days?" he asked.

"Yes. Did you?"

"I put in the request the minute my brother gave me dates. You never need to check up on me."

"Yeah, yeah…you always have your shit together."

He pulled into the hotel's circular drive to the valet stand.

"Ooo…I feel special. You're using the valet instead of making me hike from a parking garage."

He pointed at the heels she wore. "I doubt you could hike anywhere in those."

The valet opened her door, and she stepped out. After he accepted the ticket and joined her, she turned a leg out, flashing more skin than he wanted anyone to see.

"Don't you like them?"

"They look phenomenal, and they do amazing things for your legs, but they're not made for hiking. And I'm not about to carry you." He made the joke to prevent himself from thinking about exactly how good her legs looked and what the heels did for her ass. He checked the urge to reach out and grab a handful. Over the years he'd learned restraint.

She took his arm again. "Whatever happened to chivalry?"

"It died with the invention of the internet and Tinder."

"And dick pics," she added with a laugh. She patted his biceps. "There are a few chivalrous guys left, though."

He led her through the lobby and to the elevators. Tess and Miles had chosen to have the party at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel where they'd first met, which was also where Tess had proposed. Owen felt out of place surrounded by so many people with huge bank accounts. They wore suits that cost as much as one of his paychecks. The jewelry hanging on the women sparkled enough to blind him.

But for his friends, he'd suck it up and try to have a good time. As a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne glasses, he snagged one for Evelyn and handed it to her. "I'll be back in a minute. I'm going to see what's available at the bar."

"Stay out of trouble. I'll find Nina and Trevor."