“I’m no slob,” he joked.

You sure aren’t, she thought. He and Stef should have hit it off. Why hadn’t they?

The host seated them at a table with the requisite red-and-white checked cloth and a candle in a red globe holder. The Italian standard “Volare” was playing softly in the background.

“Nice ambience, huh?” said Brock.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

She wasn’t. She should have told him no.

Their waiter appeared, saving her from having to respond. “May I start you out with something to drink?”

A little wine would make a difficult conversation easier. She ordered a glass of the house red. Brock changed it to a bottle.

“We’re in no hurry, right?” he said.

“Well.” It was all she could think to say.

He began to peruse the menu. “How about we start with an appetizer?”

She’d never get out of there. “I think I’m fine with pizza,” she said.

“Well, then, pizza it is,” he said.

The waiter appeared with their wine. Once it was poured, Frankie took a healthy slug of hers.

“Are you ready to order?” the man asked.

“Not yet,” Brock said.

“Let’s go ahead and order,” Frankie said. The less time she spent at this cozy table with Jack Reacher the Second, the better.

Brock looked surprised but said, “Okay. Pizza with everything on it?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Works for me,” he said, and gave the waiter their order. “If there’s any food better than pizza, I don’t know what it is,” he added as the man left.

Frankie didn’t want to waste time rhapsodizing about pizza. They needed to get right down to business. “This was nice of you,” she began.

“You’re easy to be nice to,” he said.

“Thank you, but I don’t think we should make a habit of this.”

“Of what, eating?”

“You know what I mean,” she said. “You’re going to want to get out there and start dating.”

“I thought this was a date,” he said.

“No, this is...pizza. A friendly dinner sharing pizza,” she added, reminding him of the whole friends thing.

He studied her. “It’s okay to admit you’re interested.”

“I’m not interested.”