Free Home Free by Fern Michaels Page A

she said, “What do you want?”
    Ted continued to wave the papers back and forth from the doorway. Maggie held up her hand, a signal for him to wait, that she’d get to him in a minute.
    Maggie focused on Jason Parker. “I do not conduct social business here at the paper. Please stop popping in here unannounced. From here on in if you want to get in touch with me, do it via e-mail or a phone call. Now, sit there while I take care of some business.”
    Properly chastised, Parker sat down across from Maggie’s desk. He looked like an errant schoolboy caught red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Maggie’s eyes bored into him as she made her way to the door, then closed it behind her to talk to Ted.
    Maggie squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, looked squarely at Ted, and said, “What do you have for me?”
    Instead of answering her, Ted said, “I think I know that guy. Isn’t he that financial guru everyone in town is lined up to invest with? Don’t tell me we’re going to be doing another story on him. I’ll pass on it if we are.
    â€œJesus, Maggie, don’t tell me you’re going to invest with him. Ooops, none of my business. Forget I mentioned it. By the way, congratulations on buying that house. It’s good to put down roots. Georgetown is the place to do it.”
    Maggie eyed her former fiancé to see if he was pulling her leg. She decided he was sincere and thanked him. “It’s a bit overwhelming at the moment, but it’s like everything else. I’ll get used to making mortgage payments and worrying about my pipes and wood rot. Yes, that’s Jason Parker, and I don’t know why he’s here, and no, I am not investing with him, not that it’s any of your business who I invest with.” It was true, she didn’t know why Jason Parker was there.
    â€œHere!” Ted said, shoving a packet of papers at her. “The financials you wanted on that contractor you were so convinced is on the take. He’s clean, so you might have to shift your focus in another direction,” he said, referring to a story Maggie had assigned to him. “Looks like nothing is going on in the next few days, so I’m going to cut out and spend some quality time with Mickey and Minnie. Guess I’ll see you at Annie’s on Thanksgiving. You okay, Maggie? You look kind of funny.”
    Was she okay? No, not really. “Listen, Ted, I want you to do a . . . deep background check on Jason Parker. From the day he came out of the womb. Let’s keep this just . . . just between us for the time being. Oh, one other thing. I won’t be going to Annie’s for Thanksgiving. I was . . . I am . . . invited to Camp David for the weekend. The president herself called me while I was at lunch with Nikki and Alexis. I was . . . I was stunned, Ted.” She realized at that instant how easy it was to fall back into the old familiar groove with him. A comfort zone, so to speak.
    Ted’s eyebrows shot upward. He grinned. “Looks like you hit the big time. Watch out for those politicians, or they’ll eat you up and spit you out. Or are you thinking there is something devious about this invitation?”
    â€œListen, Ted, hang around for a few more minutes, until I get . . . till I see what Parker wants. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Make some coffee. Call the bakery and have them send over some cream puffs or eclairs or something sweet. By the way, where is Espinosa?”
    â€œMen’s room. Okay, coffee and sweets coming up,” Ted said cheerfully. Too cheerfully to Maggie’s liking.
    Back in her office, Maggie’s snarly mood returned. She looked at Jason Parker, sitting in the chair across from her desk, really looked at him, trying to imagine what Nikki, Alexis, and even Ted would think about him if they got up close and in his face. He was tall, fit. Just the right amount of gray