Bailey Brown has just lost her job, her birthright, and her fiancé. Loaded with enough insecurities to fill a suitcase, she prays for God to show her the way and then hits the road feeling like the ultimate loser.
Exit 477: Washout Express.
The roadside sign taunts Bailey. Is God confirming she's
He sent the new girl in to fire me. Phoebe Waverly vamped in on those stilts she calls stilettos with a cardboard box in hand.
"Mr. Graham asked me to inform you that you are terminated, immediately." Her attempt at a professional voice only made her sound more Southern, one word leaning on another like dominoes toppling toward a period. "This box is for your things, Miss Brown. I’ll take that office key, if you please."
The heat rose on my face. I decided not to acknowledge her.
I picked up my purse and headed for Darryl’s office. Miss blonde, fancy-shmancy, high-heeled, manicured, former Miss Texas had tried to steal my job. Looks like she succeeded.
My hand shook as I reached for the knob. I stopped, squared my shoulders, straightened my navy business suit, took a deep breath, and pushed open Darryl Graham’s office door.
He wasn’t there. Coward.