The Next Thing on My List Read Online Free PDF Page A

Jones?”
    “Traffic reporter,” Lizbeth said. “Recently started on K-JAM morning radio. Very up-and-coming, gets a lot of airtime.”
    So Troy was a traffic reporter. I supposed I should have known, but I’d let my interest in the industry slip right around the time I lost out on the promotion. There was no point in being in the loop if they weren’t going to pay me for it.
    Lizbeth leaned forward. “So will you be talking to Troy soon?”

    “For what?”
    “Oh, the usual. Memorials. Ashes scattering. That sort of thing. I’d love to get him to work with us. Now that we have you as a personal contact”
    I gaped at her, my jaw dropping on its hinge. Was she serious? “I met him at a funeral.”
    Martucci, ever the kiss-ass, said, “Now this sounds to me like an opportunity. What’s that old saying?” He snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes when a door closes, a window opens.”

    My brows shot down in a scowl. How dare he attempt to quote The Sound of Music against me!
    “That’s right, you never know,” Lizbeth said. “Sad as his sister’s passing is” -she held her hands out across the table& and fortunately I was sitting too far away, or I suspected she might have tried to clasp mine-“from these sorts of tragedies, bonds can form.”
    “Yeah, it’s not as if you ran over his sister on purpose,” Martucci said, almost kindly.
    “Ooh, you know who you shoulda run over?” Brie interjected. “Rick Hernandez on Channel Five. That man is fine. I wouldn’t mind sharing a ride with him, if you know what I’m talking about.”
    “I didn’t run anyone over,” I hissed.

    Martucci leaned back, his arms crossed. “No need to get yourself all in a twist, Parker. We’re just brainstorming.”
    “Maybe we should drop this”  Greg said, which was lucky because Martucci deserved a snappy comeback, and since I was struggling unsuccessfully to come up with one, someone needed to defend me. “This guy isn’t the only traffic reporter in the world. I have a feeling that June would prefer to put the accident behind her.”
    I gave Greg a watery smile in gratitude. He’d managed to shut Martucci up, but alas, Lizbeth wasn’t giving up so easily. She turned to me. “I want you to consider it.” Her voice was crisp& back to business. “Getting Troy Jones on board would mean more funding for this department. It would be a feather in your cap.”
    A better woman than I would have leapt to her feet and shouted, “How dare you ask that I exploit a situation as horrible as this!”  For the fun of it, I also pictured myself slapping Lizbeth across the face. Stomping on her foot. Giving her arm an Indian burn. Making her eat a really hot pepper.
    Truth was, however, I rather enjoyed the notoriety. Suddenly I was the school geek who had an extra ticket to the hottest concert of the year.
    In a strange way, it felt good.
    Not that I planned to do anything about it. Hell would be a skating rink before I’d cash in on any connection I might have to Marissa’s brother to further my own career. Or, more realistically, Lizbeth’s. The very thought was appalling.
    Yet I couldn’t make myself say no. Instead, I did what I do so well.
    I procrastinated.
    And when it comes to that sort of thing, they had no idea who they were dealing with.
    “If you think it will help,” I said, gathering up my notes. “Let me see what I can do.”

    Chapter 3

    A few days later, I bustled home in a cheery mood. I’d stopped by Susan’s after work to watch the twins. Her husband, Chase, was out of town, the baby-sitter needed to leave, and Susan had to work late on a proposal. Glad to do it, I told her. There’s nothing that lifts the spirits like spending a few hours with two guys who think you’re the bomb-even if they are five.
    It was almost ten o’clock by the time I got home, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed. The kids were cute, but I was beat.
    Santa Monica, where I live, is a bustling city that nestles the