Turnabout's Fair Play by Kaye Dacus Read Free Book Online Page B

with Dylan’s younger brother? Let Zarah and Caylor—who’d managed to snare absolutely fabulous men—set her up on dates?
    She sighed and shook Caylor’s hand. “Deal.”

Chapter 4

    J amie dashed the sweat from his eyes as he ran up the steep part of the road that circled the townhouse community. How could it be possible that only twenty-four hours had passed since his life derailed from the tracks? Twenty-four hours ago, he’d been intoxicated with the idea of promotion, of attaining that next step on the career ladder. A career he’d never planned on, a career that took more than it gave, a career that completely changed him and his outlook on life. A career that had been so unceremoniously yanked out from under him.
    He rounded the curve and started across the top of the irregular circle. Two times around was about a mile. He usually ran twelve to fourteen laps, depending on if he’d snoozed the alarm clock or not. This morning he was on twenty and counting. Running. Heart pounding. Matching his breathing to the rhythm of his feet pounding the pavement. Moving. Round and round, getting nowhere fast.
    What would he do now? He was a little ahead on his mortgage payment—maybe two months—and only had five or six car payments remaining. And he had been socking away at least a hundred dollars a month for the past few years. But without steady income, his savings would dwindle quickly. And then what? Unemployment checks? How did one even go about getting those?
    He supposed the answer to that would be in the thick envelope of paperwork and booklets the HR rep had given him before he left Friday. And maybe she’d even explained it, but he’d been in such a haze of shock, he could barely remember how he’d gotten from the office to Cookie’s house.
    Another job was a must—because he couldn’t just sit around doing nothing every day. He’d flip fast-food burgers—and if it took too long to find a real job and money started to run out, he could sell the townhouse and downsize, move to a less-expensive area of town.
    Even back to Murfreesboro.
    He stopped at his driveway, pacing the length of it to cool down. Never. He’d worked too hard and too long to get out of the ‘Boro. He’d die before going back.
    Too many thoughts. Too much silence. He needed to get out, to go somewhere active, crowded. Somewhere the noise would drown out the questions and worries in his head. Somewhere he could think straight.
    After a quick shower, he threw on jeans, a Country Music Marathon T-shirt, and athletic shoes. No point in shaving right now—might as well wait until it was time to get ready for the wedding.
    He grabbed his netbook on the way out the door and shoved his sunglasses on against the blaze of the early-morning sun.
    The Starbucks in Nipper’s Corner was, as he’d hoped, crowded. He placed his order and then nabbed one of the armchairs by the window before someone else could.
    The buzz of voices combined with the grinding and hissing of the coffee-making equipment soothed Jamie’s mind—almost as if the chaos were being transferred from the inside out.
    After picking up his venti, triple-shot, nonfat, sugar-free, caramel-flavored latte and breakfast sandwich, he opened the mini-laptop.
    E-mail first.
    Only a few. Not a single one from church, even though he’d e-mailed his small-group leader about getting laid off and asked to be put on the group’s prayer list.
    Instead of dealing with the junk e-mails from places he shopped and newsletters and newspaper headline subscriptions still sitting in the virtual in-box, he clicked a button on his quick-link toolbar and was instantly transported to one of his absolute favorite websites. He scanned the front page. No new news items since he’d last logged in.
    He thought about browsing the forums, just to see what new discussions he might like to join in on, but something told him to check his profile, to see if he had any private messages first.
    No. No