Her cry of indignation was half-hearted at best.
I swallowed. “I can’t afford another reporter. And if the paper didn’t have to cover our ad guy and all the folks it took to pick up and deliver to shops and front doors…” I winced. “We have five freelancers.”
“Three of whom haven’t come up with a good story in weeks.”
“So put out feelers. You know this town.”
She scowled. “You’ve been here three months.”
“The Dixons have been in Mission City for how many generations?” I checked my phone. “I have an hour before I have to be at the hospital.”
“Anything else you need from me?”
I shook my head. “Not that I can think of. Will you take the city council meeting on Monday?”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“I’m covering the weekend—it’s only fair I get Monday off.”
“Again, if we had another reporter…” She twirled her finger in the air.
“I’d get more time off?”
“We’d have someone else to send to city council meetings.” Her grin lit the room. All bright white teeth and a hint of mischievousness.
Or was that deviousness?
“You’re up to something.”
“I am not.” She gave me a mock scowl. Faux indignation.
I laughed.
She tossed the paper bag at me.
I caught it easily, tossed it into the recycling bin, grabbed my coffee, and stood. “I’ll have my phone if you need anything.”
“Hey, it’s your turn to buy lunch.”
“Right.” I glanced toward the ceiling—making some calculations. “I should be done by noon. Say Fifties at twelve-thirty?”
“Done.” The megawatt smile was back. “You on the bike today?”
I shook my head. “Nah. There’s a chance of rain and the roads will be extra-slick after such a prolonged drought. Plus, cars will have forgotten how to drive in the rain.”
“I don’t thinkcarsforget.” She waggled her eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes. “You get the point.”
She nodded. “I’ll be extra-careful.”
“See that you do.” I saluted her with my coffee and headed out.
Chapter Six
Finn
I’d forgotten the big announcement of the donation to the children’s oncology department was being made today.
