The List by Sherri L. Lewis Read Free Book Online

in the hallway.
    â€œNo,” I croaked.
    She stepped inside and attempted to pull me in. Instantly, her eyes started watering, and she started coughing. “What the . . . ?”
    We both stumbled back into the hallway, in coughing fits.
    â€œWhy did you”—Erika’s question was cut off by a cough. “Why in the world would you”—She coughed again.
    I shook my head, not even trying to answer.
    She walked toward the break room and waved for me to follow. When we got there, she grabbed a cup and filled it with water. She handed it to me, then poured another. We both drank. The coughing died down.
    â€œWhy in the world did you empty a can of air freshener in your office?” Erika looked around and leaned in close to whisper. “You had a bean burrito for breakfast again?”
    I laughed. “No, silly.” I took a big sip of water, crumpled my cup and threw it away. I walked back toward my office to avoid answering her question. But before I got out the door, I knew I was busted.
    â€œOh,” I heard her exclaim. “Oh, uh-huh. I get it.”
    As I walked down the hallway, Erika broke into song again. “Dum da da dum. Dum da da dum.”
    Somehow I knew that stupid song would be in my head the rest of the day, as would the nagging thought—Jason Hampton was single and available.

four
    A ngela, Lisa, Nicole, and Vanessa sat around the table staring at me, waiting for me to spill it. My stupid list.
    We were at Nicole’s for girls’ night. Her luxury penthouse condo in Buckhead pretty much said everything one needed to know about her. The two-bedroom palace felt like something a celebrity should live in. High ceilings, hardwood floors, a small, sexy kitchen with stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops and recessed lighting made us feel like we were cosmopolitan girls in a scene from Sex and the City . We crowded around her small breakfast table.
    Nicole never cooked. She always picked up something from one of her “she-she-pooh-pooh” restaurants with elegantly named foods that exercised the taste buds, things like goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes, and spices like rosemary, dill, and cilantro.
    Nicole set out some glasses and pulled a bottle of San Pellegrino out of the refrigerator. I frowned. I knew it was supposed to be chic and all, but I never understood why she paid so much money for some sour-tasting fizzy water.
    Angela poured herself a glass and squeezed a lemon wedge into it. Lisa did the same. I gave Nicole a look, and she pulled me a bottle of Dasani out of the refrigerator. Vanessa held out her hand, indicating that she wanted one, too.
    â€œWell,” Lisa said, “tell us about Mr. Wonderful.”
    All eyes were on me. I felt ridiculous, but I knew they weren’t going to let me out of it.
    I flapped my piece of paper and cleared my throat. “To begin with, the essential must-have’s.” I twisted the cap off my water and scanned my short list. “He has to be a man of God, completely submitted to God, in love with God and all about God. I think that shrinks my choices to a very small pool right from the jump.”
    Vanessa frowned. I couldn’t tell if she disagreed with my statement, or whether she didn’t like the appetizer tray Nicole placed on the table. “I wouldn’t say that. There’re plenty of godly men out there.” She looked over at Lisa. “And they’re not all married.” She looked at me again. “Remember, let’s not be negative about this.”
    I nodded. “Okay, number two—he needs to be financially stable. He doesn’t have to be rich or anything, although I wouldn’t send him packing if he was. But he has to be able to manage finances. Third, he has to be a good father to his kids or potential father to my future kids.”
    Lisa’s eyes widened. “You’d marry a man that already has kids?”
    â€œUh, yeah.