Chapter One
Phillip loosened the windsor
knot in his Fendi tie. It was a long commute from Baltimore
to Maryland's Eastern Shore, and he'd programmed his
CD player with that in mind. He started out mellow with a
little Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
Thursday-evening traffic was as bad as predicted, made
worse by the sluggish rain and the rubberneckers who couldn't
resist a long, fascinated goggle at the three-car accident on the
Baltimore Beltway.
By the time he was heading south on Route 50, even the
hot licks of vintage Stones couldn't completely lift his mood.
He'd brought work with him and somehow had to eke out
time for the Myerstone Tire account over the weekend. They
wanted a whole new look for this advertising campaign.
Happy tires make happy drivers, Phillip thought, drumming
his fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of Keith Richards's
outlaw guitar.
Which was a crock, he decided. Nobody was happy driving
in rainy rush-hour traffic, no matter what rubber covere ... read full excerpt from Inner Harbor ebook