Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash by Bev Pettersen Page B

warning.
    It would be risky to sign a paper, but it was too late to back out now. Besides she and Em needed that eighteen-percent raise and since she was stuck in Burke’s office, laboring over boring files, there should be some type of reimbursement. Or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself.
    She dropped her head in her hands and sighed, wishing Burke wasn’t her boss, wishing she wasn’t grade-eleven stupid and wishing the expensive lemon didn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste.
     
    ***
     
    Jenna patted the chestnut gelding on the neck and nodded at the handler, pleased with his progress. “Guess he’s returning to the track tomorrow. Is he scheduled for the saltwater spa?”
    “Going there now.” The wiry man holding the gelding paused, his gaze darting to the floor then back to her face. “Jenna, I was wondering if you’d ask Mr. Burke if…well, I was hoping you’d ask if we could take a break at ten? You know, we might need to use the bathroom, have a smoke, and, well it’d be nice to have a regular break.”
    “Just take it, Jim.” She shook her head in exasperation. This was the third time today someone had asked her to approach Burke. “He’s actually very reasonable as long as you do your work. Besides, you never worried about smoke breaks before.”
    “With Wally, we just took them when we wanted.” Jim had the grace to flush. “It never really mattered.”
    “Well, I’m afraid those days are over.” She gave a rueful smile. “This place is going to be quite busy.”
    “Wally said if we banded together, we might be able to force Mr. Burke to re-install him as manager.”
    “Wally said that?” She shook her head at the ridiculous notion Burke could be forced to do anything. “Where is Wally anyway?”
    “Out back, doing inventory. A little pissed about it too.”
    Of course. Wally wasn’t accustomed to grunt work. She nodded, pushed open the swinging door and walked down the aisle past the reception area.
    “What’s another word for superfluous?” Frances asked, poking her head up from her crossword puzzle. “Nine letters.”
    “Redundant.” Jenna paused. “Maybe you should spend less time with your puzzles and work at the computer a bit more. Sweep twice a day instead of once.” Annoyance darkened Frances’s round face. “Just until Burke goes,” Jenna added. “Just to be safe.”
    “But I smile at him now. And I answer the phone.”
    “But it hardly rings.” Jenna softened her voice, trying to be tactful. Frances could be quite spiteful if annoyed; conversely the woman’s feelings were easily bruised. “Everyone uses cell phones now. I’ll continue to do the tours but why don’t you tell Burke you’d be happy to do some of his typing?”
    “Maybe.” But Frances flounced back in her seat, clearly resentful. “By the way, I saw your sister’s boyfriend on Facebook,” she added snidely. “They seem to be having a good time. Take a look.”
    Jenna leaned over the counter. Emily’s face flashed on the screen followed by a black sports car. A skinny, nondescript guy leaned against the fender, one arm around Em’s shoulder, his other hand splayed over…her breast. The self-satisfied leer on his weasel face was nauseating.
    “Are there any other pictures?” Jenna asked, but it was an effort to work the question past her tight throat. “And can you tell me where this was taken?”
    “A little town somewhere. Look at the cheap motels. Good grief. Aren’t you Facebook friends with your sister?”
    Jenna shook her head. She barely went on Facebook; her ancient computer was much too slow.
    “I can see why.” Frances snickered. “There’re some raunchy pictures here. Maybe you should sweep the feed room first. Then I’ll let you see them. All I can say is your sister deserves her reputation.”
    Jenna lunged over the counter. Grabbed a pen and rammed it into Frances’s hand. “Watch your mouth. Now write your password down. Or else I’ll have my