Read Online Trigger by Carol Jean - Free Book Online

striking the sidewalks, her mind is turned
off and she’s given control to Coping Rule No. 1. Run until her
body and mind are in synch. It took an hour to get there and turn
toward home.
    Frantically pulling out the hairpins that hold her
upswept eighty-dollar hair style, they catch in the curled tendrils
that were gracefully placed to compliment her face. She’s only gets
about two minutes of hot water so she’s washing her hair with one
hand and scrubbing her body with other while rinsing at the same
time.
    It’s been twenty minutes since she finished her run
but she’s got to get out of here. Jogging the two blocks to get to
BB, the site of his garage home always excites her. BB will be
there. Shiny, perfect, excited to see her, she trusts him
completely.
    Sunlight rushes through the rising garage door hits
the white gown bag. She’d changed out of the gown into damp smelly
running tights so she could get home safely. She’d left it there,
hanging on a rusty nail. She feels her face heat with disgust for
the dress.
    However, the dark haired hooker two blocks away,
took the gown with a glowing smile at the unexpected gift and Judy
felt better that it was gone from her life and found the home it
deserved. She’d miss the shoes. They were the prettiest shoes she’d
ever had and they were very comfortable. She didn’t even have
blisters or sore places from wearing them for the first time.
    She sighs for the shoes, but Sunday morning chores
must come before anything else. Judy’s out of clean underwear and
her workout clothes have a sickening sweat-on-sweat smell. Wearing
her ugly tan wash-day slacks and foregoing underwear to ensure that
everything she has will be clean, she covered the rest with a faded
green sweatshirt long enough to cover her butt.
    The laundry near her office is usually empty this
early on Sunday morning, but today an elderly man, is struggling to
decide if white boxers, undershirts and socks should be washed with
his dark pants. Going for cheap, he finally dumps everything in one
load and hits start.
    Her office suite is her haven, her real home. If she
could she would move in permanently, but it’s not allowed. She
walks through turning on every light and peeking into each office.
She never disturbs anything or noses around her employees’ desks.
If she needs anything and can’t do without it while she works, she
always leaves a note. However, she has, on occasion stolen a candy
from Charlotte’s candy dish.
    Sunday is also the best day of her week, she can
work uninterrupted. Her best ideas came from Sunday in her office.
Judy never leaves until she’s organized and excited for the
upcoming week and she’s determined that today – the day following
yesterday – will be exactly like that.
    She drank the entire pot of coffee and is making
another when a nagging pain makes her wince. She looks at the
clock, eleven-thirty, she laughs relieved. This much caffeine and
no food doesn’t really work for her. She grabs a piece of candy
from Charlotte’s candy dish and makes a mental note to bring in a
replacement bag.
    Sucking on the sweet butterscotch candy and carrying
a fresh cup of coffee, she walks down the hallway to her office.
Simon’s face floats up ahead. Handsome, beautifully groomed, eyes
that twinkle with joy and excitement, she can hear the tune his
rhythm of life plays. She feels the urge to dance in time with it.
Graceful, thoughtful, intelligent, clever, caring and responsible
to his parents and family, Simon’s life rhythm is so more beautiful
than her own that changes from day to day.
    Less than a year after she opened her business she
went to her weekly entrepreneur meeting. It was a good place to
talk to people starting their own businesses and she traded useful
information with the members. They’d elected George as head honcho
for the year, because he promised to bring an expert once a month
to talk with them. This month Simon Perry was the guest
speaker.
    She’d