held his contract, Warren’s getting vocal about wanting to be with a club that could give him a shot at the World Series, one of the few destinations he’s missed in a long career. He’s not winning popularity points by bouncing around so much, is he, Oz?” Oz mouthed a few choice words, but kept his public commentary to a minimum. “Okay, we’re ready for our first caller. Joe, from Queens.” Oz forwarded the caller straight to the air. As he turned off his mic, he muttered something about baseball being a sport and not a gossip column. But so what? If he had a problem, he’d signed on the wrong show. Brian would be thrilled to see Oz get the boot for his downbeat commentary. For now, however, they settled into their morning routine and continued debating if the boys of summer would hold it together long enough to make the most out of their careers.
FIRED UP
1
Three weeks later“HAVE YOU BEEN WATCHING the news?” Feeling like a suspect caught in the act, Naomi Benoit clutched the telephone tighter in one hand as she muted the volume on the television with the other. “Not since the six o’clock update,” she lied to her best friend, forcing her restless feet into her cottage’s small kitchen to make a cup of tea. A wicked rainstorm battered the northeast tonight, seemingly centered on Naomi’s coastal New Hampshire hometown. Some tea would help ward off the storm’s chill and—maybe—help chase off the stupid, misplaced worries tonight’s news had stirred up. “And actually, I’ve got a ton of papers to grade before school tomorrow—” “Do you believe Brody told the ump to, ah, screw off?” Shayla had been her best bud since Naomi punched Mugsy Simpson on the playground for lifting Shayla’s skirt on a dare. Surely they’d been friends long en
FIRED UP
1
Three weeks later“HAVE YOU BEEN WATCHING the news?” Feeling like a suspect caught in the act, Naomi Benoit clutched the telephone tighter in one hand as she muted the volume on the television with the other. “Not since the six o’clock update,” she lied to her best friend, forcing her restless feet into her cottage’s small kitchen to make a cup of tea. A wicked rainstorm battered the northeast tonight, seemingly centered on Naomi’s coastal New Hampshire hometown. Some tea would help ward off the storm’s chill and—maybe—help chase off the stupid, misplaced worries tonight’s news had stirred up. “And actually, I’ve got a ton of papers to grade before school tomorrow—” “Do you believe Brody told the ump to, ah, screw off?” Shayla had been her best bud since Naomi punched Mugsy Simpson on the playground for lifting Shayla’s skirt on a dare. Surely they’d been friends long en
Навигация с клавиатуры: следующая страница - или ,
предыдущая -
