Jenny took a long sip of coffee, mindful of the possibility of wearing it to work if the car in front of her slammed on brakes. At no more than 20 miles an hour (which Jenny referred to as “rush hour speeding”), the danger was not as imminent.

...he’s cheating on me or else why would he have come home late three nights…

The pain behind her eyes came and went as quickly as usual. Now, who would that one be – blue Jeep? No, not talking to anyone. Then she saw that whoever was driving the Nissan in front of her was making lots of dramatic arm gestures. Taking a calculated risk, Jenny again reached for her coffee.

...wow, nice hottie… hard to tell when they’re in a car… sexy red leather jacket…

As Jenny realized this meant her, the cough reflex caused by coffee trying to swim down her windpipe produced a fine brown mist all over the steering wheel. She looked up in time to see someone in a Honda, snickering – the cute guy who parked four spaces over from her in their deck at work. Damn!