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“Sure. Uh, I’ll ask my manager to take them out on a cruise at one this afternoon, if that’s okay? We usually do a four-hour cruise. Will that work?”
“Hang on.” I held the phone to my chest and turned to Mark.
“You remember that bus accident a few months ago in Griffith Park? A rock band’s tour bus was struck by a full tanker truck. The driver’s still in jail awaiting trial.”
Mark nodded. “Yeah, one of the band members was killed. The tanker driver is being held on vehicular manslaughter charges because he was impaired.”
“Yeah. This guy I’m talking to is Kit Hansen, their equipment hauler. He owns a fishing charter company, and they’ll take you and your brother-in-law out at one this afternoon if you want to go.”
Mark’s face lit up. “Tell me where, and we’re there. I’d been looking forward to this for a week.”
“Kit, they’d love to go. Text me the details, and I’ll get them to my boss. That isn’t why I was calling though.”
Mark had his phone out and was walking toward his SUV, so I went on to explain about the party at my place and whether he thought it would upset JD.
“Man, I know the band would love to thank you guys in person. How about having it at our place? That way, if JD gets overwhelmed, he can go home. Riv and I love having people over, and we’ve got a lot of games and coolers to make it fun.”
We went through logistics for a few minutes before we hung up. We were meeting at Kit and Riv’s place at five. Now I just had to convince JD to come.
“Here’s a brochure outlining how Thriving Tots uses the donations. There are firefighters at the stoplight if you’d like to donate.”
Handing out brochures for the charity was my commitment to the cause. I hated it because interacting with people wasn’t my ideal scenario.
I was two blocks from the collection site. It was easier to hand out brochures than to give each person a lengthy spiel regarding how the money was spent.
The light changed at the end of the block, so I stepped into the median to get out of the flow of traffic. I damn well didn’t want to be roadkill.
My phone vibrated as I stood on the gravel between the northbound and southbound lanes. I pulled it from my pocket and saw a text from JD.
It’s whatever you want to do, Thatcher. I’ll go to Riv’s to get out of your way. Thanks for letting me know.
Crap! That wasn’t what I wanted at all!
Instead of typing everything into a lengthy text, I hit the call button.
“Hey, Thatcher. Is there something you need me to do before I leave?”
“No, JD. I don’t want you to leave. Actually, that’s not true. Kit and River are going to host the get-together at their place, and I want you to come. You can meet everyone.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. How did Riv and Kit end up hosting? Oh, uh, you’d rather not—”
“No. There’s nothing I’d rather not do. I want you to meet the people… They’re my work family, and I’d like you to meet them.” Did that make sense? It wasn’t a lie, but would he understand? Hell, I wasn’t sure I understood why it was important to me, but suddenly, it was.
“Why aren’t you having it at your house?”
Good question. “Kit said they have games and coolers and stuff to make it fun, and he said they enjoyed having parties. I’m not the best host in the world, and I guess everyone knows it. Please come with me. I’ll be home in a few hours, and we can go to the store and pick up some stuff to contribute to the party. What do you say?”
Car horns started blaring as something near the stoplight kept traffic from moving. I walked up the median and found a fender bender where the probies were supposed to be collecting donations. I released a frustrated sigh.
“JD, please come. I have a mess to clean up. Just think about coming.”
I ended the call and jogged to the intersection, seeing Procter and Rocco arguing with Procter’s ass in the street. “What the hell is going on?”
“Dumbass fell off the curb. That car”—Rocco pointed to a bronze Lexus—“stopped to keep from hitting him, and the black Camry rear-ended the Lexus.” Rocco’s tone was smug.
“No, a lady in the gold Explorer was waving money at me in the third lane, so I stepped off the curb and twisted my ankle because of that rock. Then the Lexus stopped to keep from hitting me, and the Camry hit the Lexus.”
What in the fuck was different about the story? Those idiots said the same damn thing. “Rocco, why didn’t you get him out of the street, at least?” I stepped off the curb and helped Procter up, pulling his arm over my shoulder as I dragged him to the grassy median.
