If he’s going to do something worthless, at least he could play golf like every other stockbroker in the world. Maybe he could make some deals on the course or at the nineteenth hole, she thought wistfully.

Even after two years of dating and eleven years of marriage, Morgan had not totally given up on trying to change him-she had just gotten better at tolerating him. She grudgingly acknowledged that Jake was a somewhat decent provider, and even she had to admit that he was a great father-she’d give him that, even if she did find him boring.

Driven more by a desire to silence Morgan’s nagging than any personal desire for riches, Jake had invested heavily in a few “surefire” stocks that surprised everyone, then became de-listed within weeks of his taking a position. His biggest concern now was dealing with the reality of being owned by the banks. House payments, car payments, truck payments, private school, horse-riding lessons; it never ended. There always seemed to be more month than money.

Morgan had married Jake because she had thought he was going places, big places-away from West Point, Mississippi, a small town with a total population less than ten thousand in a rural county. Jake and Katy liked West Point, but Morgan longed for a big city with all the trappings.

Now she hung on because of Katy. And she rarely missed an opportunity to needle Jake about his failures, like taking a bath on Krispy Kreme stock. Jake had insisted that all his clients buy the Krispy Kreme initial public offering. He had grown up eating the hot, glazed doughnuts and knew the world would love them, too.