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 ask, “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 us.”
“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 fettucini 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 tensed. “Well, almost.” She shot a look at Charlie, prepared to jettison him permanently if he said the wrong thing.
Joe looked at Charlie. “I’m gay.”
Charlie relaxed and beamed at him in what looked like relief. He picked up a bread stick. “Good for you, but that doesn’t justify Mark. There must be other men in this town almost as perfect as you who like girls.”
Allie blinked at him. She had obviously missed something there, but since it wasn’t homophobia, she didn’t care what was going on in Charlie’s brain. It was a male brain. It was probably incomprehensible, anyway. Look at Mark.
Joe sat back. “I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t happy about Mark, either.” He turned to Allie. “Why did you pick him?”
“I didn’t.” Allie tried to look unconcerned. “He picked me. I don’t know why.”
“I don’t, either,” Joe said. “You’re not his type.”
“What is his type?” Charlie asked.
“Lisa.” Allie stuck out her chin in defiant unconcern, but unfortunately, she stuck her lower lip out farther.
“Don’t pout.” Joe bit into a bread stick.
“You owe Lisa, whoever she is,” Charlie told her. “She saved you from a man worse than death. You say thank you very much the next time you see her.”
“Which should be any minute now.” Joe pointed his bread stick behind Charlie. “That’s them by the door.”
Allie looked up in time to see Mark wave and take Lisa’s hand and tow her toward them through the crowd.
The day from hell would never end. Well, she’d asked for it.
Charlie evidently thought so, too. “It’s a shame Lisa’s not with you,” he mimicked. “We could all have dinner together.”
“I know.” Allie pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and steeled herself for the mess to come. “I know. If I’d behaved like an adult, I wouldn’t have picked up Charlie in a bar and lied to Mark. I deserve this.”
“Nobody deserves this.” Joe handed her a bread stick. “Eat. I’m with you. We can take them.”
“Hell, yes.” Charlie relented and patted her hand. “The odds are in our favor.”
“You in this, too? Good.” Joe handed him a bread stick, too. “We can always use another foot soldier in the fight against yuppie scum dweebs.”
“That bad?”
“Lisa! Mark!” Joe stood up. “I was just telling Charlie all about you.”
Someday, Allie told herself, I’ll look back on this and laugh.
But not yet.
2
Allie sat numbly while Mark beamed at all of them. “Isn’t this terrific. Can we join you?” He pulled out a chair for Lisa without waiting for an answer, and Lisa sat, giving Allie a cautious look under her lashes.
She had beautiful lashes. Actually, Lisa had beautiful everything. No wonder Mark had wanted her instead. And there was no point in hating younger, more attractive women just because they existed. You had to wait until they did something to you to hate them. And Lisa hadn’t fired her, Mark had.
Allie gave up and smiled at her. “Hi, Lisa. Congratulations on your promotion.”
Lisa leaned forward, caution gone, her words tumbling out in her happiness. “It’s so exciting, Allie. I can’t thank you enough. Mark told me it was your decision-”
Allie’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. “Oh?”
Lisa stopped. “It wasn’t?”
Allie looked at Mark as if he were fish bait. “I’m really looking forward to working with Charlie,” she lied. “Have you met Charlie yet, Lisa? Charlie Tenniel, Lisa Mitchell.”
Charlie smiled at her and took her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Lisa smiled back, using her lashes on Charlie this time. “Welcome to the station. You’re going to love working with Allie. She’s-”