slot was no secret. She’d been up front about that from day one.
But he’d never made any promises, done anything to lead her to believe she was next in line if an opening did come up. Sure, he’d consider her for a trial run if an appropriate slot ever became available—although that had always been a long shot, as he’d been careful to communicate.
Or it had been until Eve became a target.
Doug froze as a police car tore past the building, lights flashing, in pursuit of someone who’d stepped outside the law to achieve an end that was important to them.
Like hosting a radio program?
No.
He shook his head.
That line of thought was nuts.
Carolyn was a smart woman and an ace reporter. She was prepping herself for a higher-profile career, but she was playing by the rules.
And perhaps she was also playing him.
Not an angle he’d ever acknowledged, but possible.
Yet taking advantage of a man in the throes of a midlife crisis, while of questionable morality, wasn’t illegal. Nor did it have any connection to Eve’s problems.
Carolyn didn’t have any connection to Eve’s problems, other than covering them for the paper.
She wouldn’t jeopardize her career—her entire future—by doing anything risky or on the shady side of the law, even if she did have the investigative skills to dig deep into someone’s background and ferret out dirt. She was too smart to use that kind of information for nefarious purposes.
And she was certainly too smart to plant a fake bomb.
Yet as his phone began to ring again and the advertising manager’s name appeared on his screen, he couldn’t kill the tiny seed of doubt that had suddenly sprouted to life in his mind.
She may have pushed too hard.
Carolyn tapped a polished nail against her desk and slipped her cell into her purse as Doug ended their call.
He was pulling back.
And at this stage, with a slot in the drive-time programming on the cusp of opening, that was disastrous.
Now, of all times, she needed him in her corner.
She checked her watch, rose, and slung her purse over her shoulder. Unless she hurried, she’d be late for the interview she’d scheduled to flesh out tomorrow’s story on the latest scandal to rock City Hall. But letting Doug’s call roll—or rushing their conversation—hadn’t been options. Being tardy was a small price to pay for the potential payoff.
Except Doug had rushed to end the call.
Putting her phone to her ear to discourage conversation with any of her colleagues, she strode down the hall of the newspaper offices, mind firing on all cylinders. She had another card she could play to win his support—but it wasn’t one she wanted to use.
She wrinkled her nose.
Nice as Doug was, sleeping with someone her father’s age held zero appeal.
If it helped advance her career goals, though?
Tolerable.
And it would be a cinch to set up. All she had to do was crook her finger and he’d fall into her arms.
Given how well that tactic had worked when she’d been angling for a promotion to an investigative slot, there was no reason to think it wouldn’t again. The man was ripe for plucking.
But she didn’t want to pluck him unless there was no other option.
So the best plan was to curb her ambitions—verbally at least . . . continue to play the charm card with Doug . . . and see what kind of fallout there was from the call Eve had received today.
Given her conservative audience, there could easily be a mass exodus of both audience and sponsors.
That was the ideal outcome. It would open the window she’d been angling for with no further effort on her part.
And as long as she kept Doug in her corner—her top priority for the immediate future—the opportunity she’d been waiting for could be much closer than she’d ever dared hope.
7
EVE GAPED AT THE TALLY on her blog post.
Four-thousand-plus comments since her response to this morning’s caller had gone live six hours ago?
She leaned closer to her laptop to confirm the number.
Her eyes hadn’t deceived her. The precise figure was 4,652.
Wow.
She sank into the desk chair in her home office and scrolled through a few of the entries.
They appeared to be trending favorable by a large margin.
Excellent.
Her cell began to ring, and she skimmed the screen before putting it to her ear. “Hi, Doug. What’s up?”
“Have you seen the response to your blog post?”
“I’m looking at the number as we speak. It’s phenomenal. I don’t get that many comments in a month, let alone six