could be our chance to give back what we lost. By helping people who are really in need.”
“And carry guns,” Adam pointed out. “Admit it, Harper. The part you like is the part where we get guns.”
“The thought that we would be issued firearms and permission to legally carry them did cross my mind,” Jon said. “But it’s really about helping people, Weinberg. Do you honestly just want to let this serial killer you’re worried about roam around free?”
“No,” Adam said. “I want to find a job doing what I’m trained to do. I would like to implement cash and derivatives strategies and execute trades while communicating market information and trends to other investment professionals within the firm.”
“Really?” Jon couldn’t hide his disappointment. “That’s the line you’re going with on the résumé?”
“That’s what I told the HR rep at TransCarta,” Adam said. “Which is the only place that seems to be hiring right now.”
“When you could be saving lives.”
“Let me ask you something,” Adam said. “Have you run this one by your sister?”
“What do you mean?” Jon asked defensively.
“I think you know what I mean,” Adam said. “I mean, have you told that bat-shit-crazy sister of yours that you’re thinking of applying for a job with the NYPD?”
“I don’t have to tell my sister everything I’m thinking about doing,” Jon said stiffly.
“Oh, yeah?” Adam laughed in an evil way. “Well, I’m not applying for a job with the NYPD unless your sister says she sees the two of us retiring as lieutenants or whatever.”
Jon said, with a spurt of irritation, “You should know by now it doesn’t work that way with her.”
“Yeah,” Adam said. “I guess if it did, neither of us would be in this situation, would we?”
Jon sighed. His sister’s gift had never exactly made life easier for him. Why couldn’t she have been able to predict winning lottery numbers, or which girl in the bar was most likely to sleep with him, or something actually useful? Hearing the ways in which he might conceivably die was interesting, Jon supposed.
But he’d rather have gotten rich. Or laid.
Jon heard the scrape of Meena’s key in the lock. Jack Bauer heard it too, and quickly leapt off the couch to return to his dog bed.
Jon said, “We’ll talk about this later. I gotta go,” to Adam, then hung up and took his feet off the coffee table.
Meena came in looking flustered and fresh faced, as she always did when she returned from anywhere. She asked, “Was Jack Bauer on the couch just now?”
“Of course not,” Jon said, getting up. “How was your day, dear?”
“It sucked. I met a girl on the subway I think is going to end up sold into white slavery and then killed.”
“Sweet,” Jon said sarcastically.
“Tell me about it,” Meena said. “And Shoshona got the head writer gig. And the network is mandating a crappy vampire story line, so my beautiful and totally awe-inspiring proposal about the bad boy with the police chief dad was completely dead on arrival.”
“Shoshona got the head writer gig?” Jon asked. “That blows. You gave the subway girl your card, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Meena said, throwing her keys into the little tray on the kitchen counter, which she’d started keeping there for that purpose after Jon finally pointed out that her psychic power was useless at finding the things she kept losing. “Hopefully she’ll call.”
“What about Taylor?” Jon asked. He tried to keep his voice casual. He’d had a crush on Taylor Mackenzie—whom his sister had pointed out many times was way too young for him—since Meena had first started writing for the show.
“She’s the one getting the new vampire boyfriend,” Meena said. “They’ve got Gregory Bane’s best friend coming in to read with her on Friday. He’s hot, apparently. I think I saw him leaving the office with Shoshona tonight. But it was mostly only the back of his
“And carry guns,” Adam pointed out. “Admit it, Harper. The part you like is the part where we get guns.”
“The thought that we would be issued firearms and permission to legally carry them did cross my mind,” Jon said. “But it’s really about helping people, Weinberg. Do you honestly just want to let this serial killer you’re worried about roam around free?”
“No,” Adam said. “I want to find a job doing what I’m trained to do. I would like to implement cash and derivatives strategies and execute trades while communicating market information and trends to other investment professionals within the firm.”
“Really?” Jon couldn’t hide his disappointment. “That’s the line you’re going with on the résumé?”
“That’s what I told the HR rep at TransCarta,” Adam said. “Which is the only place that seems to be hiring right now.”
“When you could be saving lives.”
“Let me ask you something,” Adam said. “Have you run this one by your sister?”
“What do you mean?” Jon asked defensively.
“I think you know what I mean,” Adam said. “I mean, have you told that bat-shit-crazy sister of yours that you’re thinking of applying for a job with the NYPD?”
“I don’t have to tell my sister everything I’m thinking about doing,” Jon said stiffly.
“Oh, yeah?” Adam laughed in an evil way. “Well, I’m not applying for a job with the NYPD unless your sister says she sees the two of us retiring as lieutenants or whatever.”
Jon said, with a spurt of irritation, “You should know by now it doesn’t work that way with her.”
“Yeah,” Adam said. “I guess if it did, neither of us would be in this situation, would we?”
Jon sighed. His sister’s gift had never exactly made life easier for him. Why couldn’t she have been able to predict winning lottery numbers, or which girl in the bar was most likely to sleep with him, or something actually useful? Hearing the ways in which he might conceivably die was interesting, Jon supposed.
But he’d rather have gotten rich. Or laid.
Jon heard the scrape of Meena’s key in the lock. Jack Bauer heard it too, and quickly leapt off the couch to return to his dog bed.
Jon said, “We’ll talk about this later. I gotta go,” to Adam, then hung up and took his feet off the coffee table.
Meena came in looking flustered and fresh faced, as she always did when she returned from anywhere. She asked, “Was Jack Bauer on the couch just now?”
“Of course not,” Jon said, getting up. “How was your day, dear?”
“It sucked. I met a girl on the subway I think is going to end up sold into white slavery and then killed.”
“Sweet,” Jon said sarcastically.
“Tell me about it,” Meena said. “And Shoshona got the head writer gig. And the network is mandating a crappy vampire story line, so my beautiful and totally awe-inspiring proposal about the bad boy with the police chief dad was completely dead on arrival.”
“Shoshona got the head writer gig?” Jon asked. “That blows. You gave the subway girl your card, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Meena said, throwing her keys into the little tray on the kitchen counter, which she’d started keeping there for that purpose after Jon finally pointed out that her psychic power was useless at finding the things she kept losing. “Hopefully she’ll call.”
“What about Taylor?” Jon asked. He tried to keep his voice casual. He’d had a crush on Taylor Mackenzie—whom his sister had pointed out many times was way too young for him—since Meena had first started writing for the show.
“She’s the one getting the new vampire boyfriend,” Meena said. “They’ve got Gregory Bane’s best friend coming in to read with her on Friday. He’s hot, apparently. I think I saw him leaving the office with Shoshona tonight. But it was mostly only the back of his
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