All Bets Are On Read Free

hit the speed dial button for Trish’s phone. It went straight to voice mail.
    Damn.
    As Rufus followed her, his leash in his mouth, she sat at the computer. “Just a few more minutes,” she promised, then booted up the machine. It only took a few minutes to log into their foundation’s bank accounts. She stared in stunned disbelief at the screen, her stomach plummeting. Their accounts were almost empty.
    “How is that possible?” She snatched up her phone and stabbed Trish’s number on her contact list again. Luckily, this time she answered.
    “Hey, Jaxs. What’s up?”
    “Where’s all our money?”
    Silence.
    Nausea rolled through her stomach. “Trish!”
    “It’s gone. Bills. You know. Running a non-profit is expensive.”
    Jaclyn shot to her feet then wavered unsteadily. She grabbed the back of the chair. “But I don’t understand. Why haven’t you said something?”
    “I didn’t want to worry you.”
    “Worry me? We’re partners. A team. You can’t keep something like this from me. For God’s sake, Ellen’s at Walmart. Her card was denied. I told her we would reimburse her. How are we supposed to do that?”
    “And we will. I’m sorry, Jaxs. We’ll be okay. We always are. There are two balls this weekend. We’ll get some donations. Trust me.”
    Jaclyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She did trust her. Hadn’t Trish always come through for her throughout the years? “All right,” she said, her voice cracking over the lump in her throat.
    “But speaking of the balls, I do need a favor.”
    Jaclyn’s legs weakened and she collapsed into the chair. “What?”
    “I need you to take my place at the Rutherford ball.”
    “What? Why?” Horror seized her insides. “You have to go. We need the money. Desperately. This is your thing, what you’re good at!”
    “Don’t worry, Jaxs. I promise I’ll go to the Adamson ball on Saturday, but I just can’t make Rutherford’s, even if it is at the Trump Resort in Miami Beach.”
    “But those fancy parties are your purview. I’ll never survive on my own.”
    “I can’t go to them all, and I definitely can’t make it to Rutherford’s. Hopefully Mr. Drooler will work out and you can take him.”
    “Wait a minute. I was only joking about taking that guy. I can’t take a complete stranger. Besides, why do I need to take a date? Why can’t I go on my own?”
    “You could, but it would be better if you didn’t. That way, all those old-bitty wives don’t have to worry you want more than a donation from their husbands. And if you can get your date interested, he can ask for money, too.”
    Jaclyn swallowed the bitterness burning her tongue. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
    “You’ll be great. Wear that red dress of yours and straighten your hair. Those hoity-toity types won’t know what hit them.”
    “Thanks,” Jaclyn said dryly. She pictured herself as Jessica Rabbit—all slink and sex appeal. Not. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
    Trish’s voice was still ringing in her ear even after she’d hung up the phone. She grabbed Rufus’s leash and headed out the front door for her nightly run. Trish’s certainty that they could pull their asses out of the fire this weekend wasn’t sitting well. Especially since she wasn’t even going to be at Rutherford’s. Jaclyn was crazy to let her friend talk her into these things. First a blind date, and now this bleeping charity function. But what choice did she have? They needed that money, and she’d do whatever it took to get it. Even if the last thing she wanted to do was get all dressed up and go to a ball.
    She hated those things, everyone in their fancy clothes looking like they were on a photo shoot from Who’s Who Magazine. All the while pretending they knew and liked each other. Definitely not her cup of tea. And now she had to bring a date! She ran harder and faster, trying to outrun the images racing through her head, the thoughts that her life was taking a