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  “But in addition to saving lives, you also spend quite a bit of your free time volunteering at a youth center, isn’t that right?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes. The Chicago Avenue Youth Center has been an important part of my adult life.”

  “How did you get started volunteering there?”

  “About a decade ago, Sandra, the center’s director, put in a request for firefighters to come to the center to talk about fire safety. As soon as I walked in, I fell in love with the place. It’s kind of like a beloved neighborhood hangout. It’s rough around the edges and needs some TLC, but it gives kids a safe place to be.”

  “What kinds of activities are offered?”

  “Sports—basketball, volleyball—and there’s an art class and a homework help room. We also have a lounge where the kids can play video games or listen to music.”

  “What impact does a place like the center have on the children in the neighborhood?”

  “It’s more than just the kids. It’s the whole neighborhood. Parents know that their kids have a safe place to go. The kids make friends and learn things. Community members love to come in and talk to the kids about different jobs. Some offer internships.”

  “It sounds like an amazing place.”

  “It is.”

  “If you had one wish for the Chicago Avenue Youth Center, what would it be?”

  “That’s easy—that it would have enough continuous funding to keep the doors open. We don’t need fancy technology or new construction. We just need to be there for the families.”

  “That doesn’t seem like you’re asking for too much.” Marilyn turned to face the cameras. “I challenge all of our viewers to take the money they would spend on one cup of coffee for one day this week and do something better with it. Donate to the Chicago Avenue Youth Center. One cup of coffee. It’s that easy to make a difference.”

  “Cut!” Danny yelled.

  Owen leaned over toward Marilyn. “Did you guys have this planned?”

  She smirked.

  “Can Evelyn hear me?”

  Marilyn nodded.

  He looked in the general direction of the control booth, even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m one lucky son of a bitch. Even when you say you can’t do something, you make it happen anyway.”

  “She’s good like that,” Marilyn said.

  “Yeah, she is.”

  …

  While at the studio a few days later, Evelyn heard mumbling rumors. Something was going on. She tried to eavesdrop because she didn’t know any of her crew well enough to just ask. She was their boss, and if it was something they thought would ruffle her, they wouldn’t say. After a full day of attempting to listen, she sat in her office with the TV on while she scrolled through headlines on her phone.

  That’s when she saw the first mention. It was small but noticeable. The nighttime show that Donald was producing had come into question. More specifically, the host and a few of the guests. The story was barely that—only a short paragraph questioning the background of the interviewer. Crap.

  Nothing on TV yet, so that was good. Evelyn Googled everything from the name of the show and host to Donald’s name to get more information. Nothing. Maybe it was one reporter getting a whiff of something but being off base. She considered calling Donald, but if he’d done something unethical, he wouldn’t admit it to her. Best to just let it play out.

  The set for Chi-talk Live was almost done. Marilyn had been prepping for the first episodes. After her “pretend” interview with Owen, which she hoped would be utilized soon, she ran interviews with members of the crew. Evelyn watched closely from the booth. They were becoming a team. In less than a week, they’d be live.

  Marcus only planned to be in town for the first week of airing. Then he was going back to New York or L.A. to continue building his empire. She didn’t know what Donald’s plans were, but she was looking forward to them stepping back.

  Her phone vibrated with a text. Marcus wanted to see her. Scooping up the notes she’d been taking, she went to his office and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  She poked her head through the door. “Hey, Marcus. You wanted to see me?”

  “Come in and close the door.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

  The damn closed door still got to her. Years of working with Harry had set her on edge. She sat, gripping the folder in her lap.

  Marcus sighed and pushed back from his desk. He studied her a minute, making her stomach churn. Silence was worse than yelling. She swallowed hard.

  “Have you heard anything from Donald?”

  She hadn’t been expecting that. “No. Should I have?”

  “Have you seen this?” He turned his computer screen to face her.

  It was the same article she’d read. “A few minutes ago.”

  He waited as if she should have something else to add. “Do you know anything about this?”

  “No,” she said firmly. Whatever Donald had gotten himself into, she wanted no part of it.

  “Good.”

  More silence.

  “Do you think there is any truth to it?” Evelyn asked.

  He folded his hands on his desk. “Unfortunately, I know there is. I know enough people in the industry that I got word yesterday. This”—he pointed at the screen—“is just the tip. It’s going to get ugly. He didn’t vet the host or double-check his background. It continued with guests. Nothing they presented is as they said.”

  Crap. Shit. Fuck. Her heart crashed against her ribs. A behind-the-scenes scandal before they even aired would ruin them. She stared at her clenched hands.

  “I have one more question for you.”

  She looked up.

  “If I send Donald packing, are you still on board?”

  The buzzing in her head made her think she’d misheard. “Are you asking if I would still run Chi-talk if Donald isn’t here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course. I developed this idea. I don’t want to see it die.”

  “It won’t be easy. You’ll have to distance yourself from him and the entire situation.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “I’ll be informing him soon. When reporters come asking, you know nothing. Keep your head down and get this show running.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. She stood to shake his hand. “Thank you.”

  “This show has too much potential. I’m not going to let poor judgment on Donald’s part destroy that.”

  “One more thing,” she said. “What about the crew? They’re already talking. That’s what tipped me off to look. I don’t think they know anything, but they’re hearing rumors. How do you want me to address it?”

  “I trust your judgment in the matter.”

  “Thank you again.”

  Her heart still raced, but something about Marcus’s faith in her made her proud. She didn’t need Donald for this show to succeed. She went back to the studio where the crew was wrapping up.

  She considered waiting until tomorrow to talk to them, but the news cycle moved fast. By tomorrow this story might be huge. She called everyone toward the set.

  As they rounded the stage, she waved them closer. “I know you’re all ready to go home, but there’s something I need to address.”

  She waited a beat to make sure she had their attention. Making eye contact with each of them, she continued. “There has been some gossip flying around today.” She made a face. “Yeah, I know. We’re in TV. There are always rumors.” That earned her a few chuckles. She paused until the laughter subsided. “Something is happening with one of our executive producers. As many of you know, Donald and I were once married, many years ago. However, I don’t have the whole story about what is happening now. In fact, some of you probably have more information than I do.

  “The story is still developing, and I don’t know what’s going to happen. What I do know is that it has nothing to do with us and Chi-talk Live. Marcus has assured me that we a
re on target. This is the only conversation we’ll have on the subject. I expect all of you to conduct yourselves professionally. If someone asks you about the situation or about Donald, say nothing.”

  She inhaled deeply and gave it a moment to sink in. When the crowd began to get restless, she clapped her hands. “That’s it. Go home. See you all tomorrow.”

  They broke and murmured to each other. Evelyn trusted that they would keep their mouths shut. She went back to her office and focused on planning the first episode. She thought about calling Donald to find out how bad it was going to get, but he wouldn’t give her the entire truth, anyway.

  Chapter Ten

  Owen sprawled on his couch, watching a Cubs game while waiting for Evelyn to come home. Every time he had that thought, he considered asking her to move in. Things between them had been going well. He’d never felt so complete and satisfied with his life. In the sixth inning, she shoved through the door, juggling her laptop bag, an overnight duffel, and two bags containing dinner.

  He rose to help. “I told you I would’ve picked up dinner.”

  “It was on my way.”

  He took the plastic bags and her duffel. “You know, you could just leave some things here instead of carrying a bag all the time.”

  “I don’t mind.” She set her laptop bag next to the couch.

  He didn’t know how to read that. She didn’t mind hauling a bag because she wasn’t ready for leaving stuff here, or she didn’t want to encroach on his space?

  “I have space in my closet. Or I can clear out a couple drawers in the dresser.” He moved to pull food from the bags, not wanting to reveal that his question was important.

  The weight of her stare poked him, and when he looked up, she stood with her head tilted, studying him. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “You’re hauling a lot of crap back and forth all the time. Just saying that it would be easier if you had some here, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? You spend more nights here than we do at your place.” It was there, the perfect setup for asking her, but the words wouldn’t come.

  She stepped close and touched his chest in that way that was uniquely Evelyn. She pressed her lips to his. “If you’re sure, I would be happy to keep some clothes here.”

  His heart lightened. Tugging her onto the couch, he asked, “How was work?”

  “Crazy. Something is going on with Donald.”

  He bit back a snarl and waited.

  “There’s a story brewing about the show he’s producing. Something about the host and guests not being vetted, making up background information. I haven’t been able to get the full story yet, but it’s not good.”

  “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. The dude is a vulture. All he cares about is ratings.”

  She opened a container of pasta and took a bite.

  “Does this have an effect on your show?”

  “Not yet. Marcus called me into his office today to make sure I would still be on board if he got rid of Donald.”

  He did a mental fist pump, but kept his calm and said, “You said yes, right?”

  “Of course. It wasn’t like I wanted to work with Donald again. It was just a by-product of his connection to Marcus. I bet you’re happy.”

  “I’m not gonna lie. I am happy to know his hands will be off you and your show.” He helped himself to a bite of her pasta as he opened his box of chicken Parmesan.

  “His hands may have been on my show, but not on me.”

  “Yeah they were. Every time he’s around, he thinks it’s okay to touch you and insert himself in your life. Like because he was your husband years ago, he still has some vested interest.”

  “I don’t see it that way. We’re friends. Friends offer advice and support. That’s what he’s done. Including introducing me to Marcus.”

  He swallowed and pointed at her with his fork. “Don’t you think there was some level of selfishness there? He made the introduction as a means to get his hands on your idea, your show.”

  He watched as her face went from furrowed brow, ready to argue to a softer look of consideration. She waved her own fork at him. “That might be the case, but you just validated my argument that it had nothing to do with me. Or getting his hands on me. Just my show.”

  Without another argument, he let the conversation slide. He would probably never be okay with Donald being in her life, but it was enough to know that for now he was gone.

  “Do you mind if I change the channel? I want to see if anyone else has picked up the story. Earlier today I could only find a minuscule thing online, but Marcus said it’s going to blow up.”

  He handed her the remote. “If Marcus knew this was happening, why did he let Donald be part of your show?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t know until yesterday when someone informed him. He knew before I did and verified the information. When I left the studio, he still didn’t know exactly how bad it was going to get, though.”

  She flipped past local news and went to the national channels, intently reading the scrolling feed at the bottom of the screen. They finished their dinner in relative silence while she stared at the TV. Suddenly, she jumped up. “This is it.”

  There was a brief note on the bottom of the screen. He didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Nighttime Investigations with Charlie Varner. That’s the name of the show Donald’s been working on.” She waited a beat. “No mention of Donald. He might escape this yet.”

  “Where’s my phone?” Owen asked. “There’s got to be a tip line somewhere. I can make sure he doesn’t escape.”

  She laughed as she leaned back into the couch. “We need to keep as far from this as possible. I don’t want any stink rubbing off on me.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  She returned the remote to him so he could choose a show. She turned her attention to her phone and read more headlines. He sighed. A distracted Evelyn was still better than Evelyn tied to Donald.

  Then the damn thing rang. From his position next to her, he saw that it was Donald. Her finger hovered over the answer button.

  “Don’t do it. You said you needed to keep your distance.”

  “I was talking about the news and publicity.” Another two rings. Then she answered. “Hello.”

  Damn it. He hated that she always responded to Donald. No matter what.

  …

  “Evie. I assume you’ve heard.”

  “I’ve seen a couple headlines and listened to some rumors. What the hell happened?”

  “It’s TV. You know how it goes. People lie.”

  She shifted away from Owen, who was giving her dagger eyes. What was she supposed to do? Ignore Donald? He’d just call again. Plus, this way, she could get the real story to protect herself and the show.

  “It’s your job as producer to weed through the lies.”

  He chuffed. “Like you’ve never had anyone pull one over on you?”

  Only you. But she bit back that response.

  “I’m sure I have. But I’ve always done due diligence to vet every guest. From the little bit I’ve read, you didn’t even vet your host. You touted him as this hardened journalist who reported from front lines and across the globe. He’s never left the damn country.” The more she thought about it, the more her anger rose. It had been sloppy.

  “Come on. Why would I think he would lie about something like that? Everyone who’s ever worked with him told the same stories. It wasn’t just me that he fooled.”

  He had a point, but it didn’t matter.

  “You’re the one paying for it, though. It wouldn’t have happened if you’d done a better job. Letting in a fraud allowed him the opportunity to run with fraudulent stories. How much of what you aired was fabricated?”

  “Who knows? At this point I’m afraid to look. It might be as much as half. Made for good viewing at least.”

  “If it was being sold as fiction
, you’d be fine. This was supposed to be news.” She thought about bringing up Marcus but decided to wait. Marcus had said he would talk to Donald, but she didn’t know if it had happened yet. Another thing she wanted to keep away from her.

  “I’m at the airport on my way back to Chicago.”

  Damn. Well, that answered whether Marcus had talked to him. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

  “I need to talk to Marcus. That’s not a phone conversation. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” She disconnected and leaned on Owen again, who was pretending to watch baseball.

  “Did you make Donald feel better?” he sneered.

  “I wanted to find out how bad it’s going to get. From the little bit Donald admitted to, it’ll be big. He thinks half of the stories he aired as news were fabricated.”

  She was unsettled, even though she loved being snuggled next to Owen. Something about Donald’s lack of care in regard to his work bothered her. He’d taught her so much about producing and how to run a good show, she couldn’t believe he’d been so lackadaisical. While the boring baseball game droned on, her mind raced.

  She began to wonder how far-reaching an investigation into Donald’s work would be. She shouldn’t worry, because she knew all the work she’d done with him had been vetted. Her heart rate picked up. At least that’s how she remembered it. She’d been in love with him. He easily could have lied about checking into someone or something and she would’ve believed him.

  Back on her phone, she dug deeper for headlines and articles. She wanted to find the names of people on the hunt.

  Owen kissed the top of her head. “What are you doing now?”

  “I just had this horrible worry about people questioning the work I did with Donald.”

  “You would never do anything unethical.”

  “Not intentionally. But back then… If Donald had told me to run with something, I would have.” Her gut twisted with the admission.

  He muted the TV. “Why would anyone go back that far if they’ve got him dead to rights for what he’s doing now?”