How could she survive the night without a cookie? Katherine Brunopulled her hair into a slapdash ponytail and eyed the empty snack table with disgust. The only redeeming feature of Sweetheart's monthly town meetings was the tantalizing assortment of homemade goodies she could dunk in her coffee. Had someone forgotten to post there freshmen signup sheet? The community center’s Faux-wood panel walls closed in on her at the thought. If this wasn't the best place to drum up support for pet adoption, she would duck out the back way. The animal shelter needed foster families. She'd planned to write an article for her job at The Sweetheart Clarion, but the editor fired her before she finished. Of course, he hadn't used such a negative term. He'd hemmed and hawed about flagging readership and online portals for five minutes until she asked him to cut to the chase. No sense dragging out the inevitable. It wasn't the first time she'd been fired,and, thanks to her uncontrollable tongue, it probably wouldn't be the last. A cluster of men stood behind Katherine in assorted versions of plaid flannel and jeans. “It's indecent! How could a woman betray her own husband?” What had put their sleeveless undershirts in a twist? She poured herself a steaming cup of java.