The Secret Life of Mrs. Claus Read Online Free Page B

were thinking of calling it The Nutcracker or She-Devil , which leads me to believe that it’s about a demon ballet dancer. Sort of a female Taz on ice.”
    “I don’t have a clue, and I don’t really care.” Part of that was a lie, as I couldn’t help but wonder how Bobby had come up with a concept strong enough to land a production deal—even if it was to air on the BigTime cable network. When I thought back over all the “small” concepts he’d nurtured over the years, all the pitches I’d had to hear over and over again about following the trail of a penny as it passed from hand to cash register to pocket to sewer grate, about the first Polish man ever to become a cardinal in the Vatican, about the short, sad life of the tallest man in the world (or would that be the long, sad life of the shortest man in the world? I should know; I heard those pitches countless times…).
    And despite the fact that most of his ideas made my eyes glaze over, instinctively I knew Bobby would make it. With an ego that inflated and the ability to keep a conversation going with just about anyone, Bobby had the tools for success in Hollywood. The killer was, I thought he needed me for that success. I thought we’d be hitting it big together, that I’d be dancing in Broadway shows while he wrote movie scripts or directed television. We were going to be one of those couples you see on Entertainment Tonight —the next Brad and Jennifer or J.Lo and Ben, except, of course, Bobby and I would stay together.
    When we moved to different cities, there was a plan for our careers to converge in the future, as soon as I established myself as a dancer in New York, as soon as Bobby snagged a deal in Los Angeles.
    But Bobby went west and hit a real gold mine, snagging a woman and the chance to shoot a midseason replacement for a cable network. Before I even realized he was auditioning new girls, I was replaced. After six years of paying my dues.
    “Six years,” I said. “I spent six years with the guy, and wouldn’t you know it, the minute we break up, he dreams up a marketable pitch. Where’s the justice in this universe?”
    Lanessa’s amber eyes glimmered over her pint glass. “Kills you, doesn’t it?”
    “Not that I care or anything.”
    “Oh, come off it, you big liar. You totally care. And don’t think that I’m really defending him, ’cause I’m not. Bobby’s a slime mold, but having a show here totally jazzes me.”
    I took a sip of my beer, a cranberry lambic that suddenly seemed sour. “Does this taste right to you? I should never order these seasonal brews.”
    “Don’t try to change the subject. And admit it, it’s cool to have a camera crew in Baltimore.”
    “The city without pity? Sorry, but Baltimore never did much for me.”
    “Just because you’re biding your time before you can hightail it back to New York, don’t be putting my city down, girl. This town is coming around, just as soon as we can undo some of the stereotypes we got saddled with in Hairspray.” Lanessa Jones is the most image conscious of all my friends, which probably serves her well in the political arena thirty miles down I-95, where she works as a lobbyist for dairy farmers. “Aren’t you happy your ex is bringing new jobs to Baltimore, along with good PR?”
    “Please don’t call him my ex.” Bobby and I had only been engaged when we broke up. “And don’t pin the PR of an entire city on me.” Feeling shades of the novel You Can’t Go Home Again, I felt a certain revulsion at having landed in the city of my youth after an injury curtailed my dancing career in New York last March. As far as I was concerned, Baltimore was just a pit stop, a transitional home, a place to hole up while my leg healed and my bank account recovered from a few months of unemployment. Not to mention that I’d thought it best to be close to Mom for a while.
    The best laid plans…
     
    My leg was healing, the scars from the surgery almost invisible and