You Don't Know Jack. Erin McCarthy

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СКАЧАТЬ have to go right past the restaurant to their apartment. “Alright, I’ll be there. Are Mandy and Caroline coming?”

      “No. Since Mandy got knocked up, married, and moved out, she’s always busy. And Caroline’s off doing something bridal. If I ever get married, I’m eloping to the Caribbean like Mandy did.”

      “I thought you said no man was worth saddling yourself to for life, or for the time it takes to get a divorce.” Jamie worried about Allison sometimes. She was such a strong, intelligent woman, yet she bristled around men and wouldn’t let any of them get close to her.

      “You’re right. Good, I’ll never have to worry about having an obnoxious wedding.”

      “Oh, come on. Caroline’s not being obnoxious.” Though Jamie had to admit, she seemed stressed out.

      “Are you kidding?” Allison snorted. “She tried on her wedding dress and burst into tears. Not a good thing.” The sarcasm left Allison’s voice. “I’m actually kind of worried about her.”

      That was serious. Allison wasn’t known to get concerned without just cause. Pausing outside the restaurant, Jamie pushed her curls out of her face. “Okay, I’m here. I’ll get a table and order drinks. What do you want, Ali?”

      “A real job, fame and fortune, and the respect of men everywhere.”

      Jamie laughed. “I meant short term.”

      “Oh, you mean to drink? I don’t care. Order me something that sounds perverted.”

      He shouldn’t be watching her. He should go home, though home was an exaggeration for what he had. He could go to the shelter, if there was room. Go to Wendy’s apartment, though she’d been spitting mad at him the week before when she’d tossed him out.

      The shelter was probably a better choice, even if it smelled like overcooked cabbage. Worse than prison.

      But first he’d found himself following Jamie again, and he needed to stop that. He wasn’t planning on talking to her or anything, though, so what was the harm in just watching her? She never noticed him, even when she glanced around her like she did now as she talked on her phone in front of a restaurant.

      She was too trusting, too nice. Unaware of all the dangers that lurked around her.

      Nice girl like that was going to get hurt if she wasn’t careful.

      When Allison breezed in the door fifteen minutes later, Jamie was sitting with what the bartender swore were two Screaming Orgasms in front of her. She was almost certain they’d given her the wrong drink just to mess with her, because these were a vibrant pink color, lapping against swizel sticks. Jamie kept thinking if she dropped an egg in each, she’d have a pair of beautifully colored Easter eggs.

      “How was your day?” Allison asked as she dropped into the chair across from Jamie.

      “Mixed. The Hathaway Foundation rejected my request for funding.” She was extremely disappointed that her pet project, Urban Gardens, an extension of her works programs, had been rejected by their major source of funding. Without the Hathaway Foundation’s funding, she didn’t have a prayer of continuing on with the project that had kids of incarcerated adults caring for their own gardens.

      The board, including Caroline’s brother, Jonathon Davidson, had rejected the proposal without even allowing her to plead her case in person. Now she was stuck scrambling for money anew.

      “Jerks.”

      That’s kind of the way Jamie felt. She didn’t understand the corporate mentality and probably never would. The men who made funding decisions that could make or break serious social programs like the one Jamie worked for sat around in their posh offices and decided who was worthy of their crumbs.

      “We used a grant writer and everything. They have our financial records, so they know we’re a responsible organization. I mean, we have an eighty-six percent success rate with our reentry program. We help men fresh out of prison find jobs and become productive adults. How could they find fault with that?” Jamie sipped her drink and sighed. She’d really wanted to expand their program to include the families of those men, but it was going to be tough now. There just wasn’t any money left in the budget.

      “A lot of people might think those men should stay in prison. Or that why waste resources on men who will just commit another crime and wind up right back in jail?”

      Jamie wasn’t naïve. She knew some men could never be rehabilitated, could usually pick them out at the first introduction. But that didn’t mean every man was a lost cause. “Well, they would be wrong. Including Caroline’s brother, Jonathon, who was the final no for my project.”

      Allison kept eyeballing her drink, but she’d yet to take a sip. “Don’t take it personally, sweetie. Jonathon is a businessman, but he’s a nice guy. If he thought it was an unsound financial investment, he would say no. Not because the program’s not worthy.”

      Jamie wanted to believe that of her roommate’s brother. Of any person. But she couldn’t help but picture a bunch of stiff, well-dressed Scrooges taking sick delight in saying no.

      “And nobody works at a charitable foundation without having some sense of decency.”

      Allison was right. Jamie was ashamed at her attitude. She had no more right to judge Jonathon Davidson than he did her clients.

      “You’re right. I’m just disappointed.” Jamie shivered a little in the air-conditioning, wishing she’d brought a sweater. “But the weird thing that happened today was that I met a guy on the subway. The guy from Beckwith’s prediction.”

      That thought caused more than a shiver. Her whole body underwent an earthquake shake. Jack had been so…delicious.

      Allison didn’t look impressed. “Beckwith couldn’t predict his way out of a paper bag. You shouldn’t be talking to strange men with that crap in your head.”

      “It was too freaky to be nonsense. The height, the hair color, the moving accident, the food, it was all accurate.” And then there was the look in his eyes. Admiration. As though he thought she was attractive, despite no make-up, frizzy hair, and lack of Manhattan polish.

      Jamie would reserve judgment on what kind of man Jack was until after they’d had some time to talk, but right now she was feeling strangely optimistic. So maybe Beck might have exaggerated the longevity of this relationship and was clearly wrong about the whole dishonesty thing—after all, what was dishonest about colliding on the subway? But Jamie still thought she and Jack might have a good old time, even without the whole happily ever after thing.

      Beckwith did have the gift, she was sure of it.

      “Just look at Beckwith’s prediction for Mandy, Allison. Back five months ago, he said she was going to find a man who made her melt, and that there were buns in her future. Now she’s married to Damien and having a baby. He was completely right.”

      “What do melting buns have to do with marrying your boss and getting pregnant?”

      It did seem like kind of a stretch when Allison put it like that. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

      “Jamie, please tell me you’re not meeting this guy.”

      “Okay.”

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