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  Charlie frowned at Allie. “Charlie All Night?”

  Allie shrugged, trying to look innocent. “Harry and I thought it was catchy.”

  “Knock it off, Allie,” he said, and she batted her eyes at him, too happy with the way things were going to care if he was mad or not.

  When he took the booth over, Allie met Harry coming out.

  “You were good tonight,” she told him. “That was a nice intro for Charlie, but you were really good before that, too.”

  “I thought you didn’t like the howling.”

  “I hate the howling.” Allie folded her arms. “Why don’t you just talk like you did tonight to those people on the phone?”

  “Because usually there aren’t any people on the phone.” Harry snorted, and Allie wasn’t sure whether his contempt was for her or for himself. “I’m not Charlie, honey. I don’t do that philosophical stuff.”

  Fighting the urge to point out that Charlie had a way to go before he posed a major threat to Plato, Allie followed him out into the hall. “Harry, you don’t have to be Charlie. Just be yourself. I thought about this today. Talk about things you like. Like…cars.”

  Harry stopped so suddenly she bumped into him. “Cars?” He considered it and shook his head before ambling down the hall again. “Nah.”

  “You could make it work, Harry,” Allie said, still pursuing him. “You know a lot about cars and stereos and guy things.”

  Harry stopped again and Allie bumped into him again. “Guy things? Cut me a break.”

  “Harry.” The exasperation in her voice must have gotten to him because he turned around. “You can do this,” she said slowly and distinctly. “I will help you.”

  Harry shook his head at her. “If anybody could, you could, Al, but I don’t think so. I’m just not star material.”

  “Yes, you are,” Allie said, but he turned away again. “Wait a minute.” She caught his arm. “How’s Sam?”

  Harry shrugged again. “I got a little more formula down him. Not much. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

  “Oh, no,” Allie said and went back to the booth to see if she could tickle some more calories into the puppy.

  BY ONE, Charlie had logged twenty-one calls: sixteen in favor of the city building, three in favor of impeaching the mayor and two women in favor of dating Charlie when he got off work. He was pretty sure he’d contained the controversy, but he was also pretty sure that the mayor and his brother had just lost a ton of money thanks to him.

  So much for laying low.

  Allie waved to him through the studio window. “Do you need me to stay around?” she said into her mike.

  She looked tired, so Charlie shook his head at her. “Just shut the phones down. Sam and I are going to take it easy for the rest of the night.” He tried to tickle the puppy into taking the bottle again, but it was no go.

  He hated it, but they were going to lose him.

  Allie came in to check on Sam before she left. “How is he?” she asked, but the tape was done, and Charlie set up the next triple play: Billy Joel, Heart and Tony Bennett. He listened to “River of Dreams” begin before he turned back to the Allie and the puppy.

  “Not good.” He took off the headphones and put them on the counter next to the basket. “See?” He tickled the puppy’s chin and Sam moved his mouth weakly once. “I can’t get him to take much. Harry said the same thing. I don’t think he’s going to make it, Al.”

  Allie lifted the tiny body out of the basket and put him on the counter to rub his stomach. “Maybe he’s too warm. Maybe it makes him lethargic.”

  “He’s a puppy. He should probably be in an incubator.”

  Sam began to move his legs feebly against the counter.

  “He’s cold,” Charlie said, but Allie held the bottle to his mouth and Sam took it, making feeble sucking sounds, gulping down formula.

  Charlie put his head down next to Sam, pushing the headphones away. “I’ll be damned. He’s taking it. No, wait, he’s stopped.”

  “Wait a minute. Move your head.” Allie shoved his head away from the puppy and pulled the headphones back close, and Sam began to suck again, weakly, but with a good rhythm.

  “I don’t believe it,” Charlie said. “He likes Billy.”

  “Maybe it’s the beat.” Allie smiled down at the puppy. “Maybe it sounds like his mom’s heart or something.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s working.” Samson sucked on like a champ and Charlie sat back, more relieved than he’d realized. Maybe Sam would make it, after all.

  Allie bent over the puppy, cooing encouragement. Her rump was right in front of him. Practically an invitation. He pulled her into his lap, careful not to knock the bottle out of her hand or out of Sam’s mouth, and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Her blue sweater was made of some kind of soft bubbly yarn, and she was warm against him, and he buried his face in the back of her neck and smelled the flowers in her shampoo. He spoke to her, mainly because he wanted to hear her voice. “How’s the show so far?”

  “Terrific, as always.” Allie concentrated on Sam. “I can’t believe this. He’s drinking like a fraternity boy.”

  “What do you mean, ‘as always.’ This is just the second time we did this.” Charlie tightened his arms at the thought.

  “Well, we’re good.” Allie’s voice went cold. “He’s stopping. What’s wrong?”

  Charlie reached around her for the headphones and listened. “He must not like ‘Friends in Low Places.’ It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Well, play Billy again, for heaven’s sake.” Allie squirmed around on his lap, exasperated. “He drinks when you play Billy.”

  Charlie swallowed and put the headphones back. “Stop moving around on me like that. It’s distracting.”

  “Play Billy.” Allie’s voice brooked no disagreement.

  “Burp him until this is done and then I’ll put Billy back on again,” Charlie said, surrendering. “Does it have to be ‘River of Dreams’?”

  “I don’t know.” Allie bent over the puppy, and Charlie let his hand trail down her back. “Better not mess with success. Play Billy.”

  “Right,” Charlie said, and when Heart was done, he let Billy rip again, and Sam went back to the bottle like a trouper.

  By the third play-through, Sam had fallen asleep and was back in his basket.

  “I bet if we put headphones on his basket, he’d do better.” Allie started to get up. “There’s a pair—”

  “Wait a minute.” Charlie pulled her back into his lap, and when she turned to protest, he kissed her, wanting her softness against him and her mouth on his for just a moment. She relaxed against him, and he felt her tongue tease his mouth, and then he grinned and opened to her, cupping her breast hard in his hand while he bent her head back with the kiss and she wrapped her arms around him.

  “Hello,” she said a few minutes later, coming up for air. “What was that for? I’m in favor of it, but what was that for?”

  “That was for me,” Charlie told her, trying to get his breath back. “Go get those headphones now, or I’ll take you right here in the booth.”

  “Oh.” Allie stayed where she was for a moment and then grinned when he didn’t move. “Talk’s cheap, Tenniel.”

  He grabbed for her then but she slipped away from his hands, and he let her go because the song was over, and also because he had every intention of plying her with Chinese food later and of making love to her until she screamed.

  “THIS IS GREAT,” Allie said at two-thirty as they split a double order of garlic chicken, eating from the carton with two forks this time. “The show was really good tonight, right up to the end. I knew you were going to be a hit, but I had no idea it would be this fast. And I haven’t even started on the publicity yet. This is wonderful.”

  Charlie stabbed his fork into the chicken. “No, it’s not. I told you, I don’t want to be famous, so just knock it off.”

  Allie gave an exasperated sigh. He really