CHAPTER 21
I awoke Thursday morning with an urge to go for a jog. Yes, it was unusual, but not unheard of, especially since jogging through T.Y. Park was how I'd run into Kip (not literally) a few years before when we reignited our romance. With the crazy week I was having, I'd been cooped up inside too long. I needed to clear my head, feel the blood flowing through my extremities. After brushing my teeth, I dragged a comb through my unruly dark curls, which had no effect at all--it never did. That's because my Irish/Cuban hair was the worst possible combination of hair and existed only to prove that God had a sense of humor. I threw on a ratty t-shirt, old shorts and running shoes, but didn't bother with make-up. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I had to laugh. If I ran into any old
