Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

they’ve got ‘em all slicked up with oil.”
    I liked the restaurant for the same reason, so I nodded in agreement. “Fine, but if they try to put us in Antarctica I’m going to protest. There’s nothing sexy about a pasty white guy in a parka.”
    “ Amen, sister.” Rose Marie practically bounced out of her faux leather mules her excitement was so palpable. “And maybe we could order a couple of those drinks with the fancy umbrellas and fruit. It could be a real girl’s day out.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Some day I was going to learn to keep my mouth shut.

    “What do you think about this one?” I asked, as I paraded out of the dressing room in the twenty-second dress I’d tried on. Rose Marie was a fashion critic of epic proportions, which I considered odd for someone who looked like a dumpling wrapped in a tablecloth every time I saw her.
    “Ooh, that one’s good.”
    I kind of thought so myself and was already imagining what kind of shoes I could buy to go with the red strapless sheath. The hem even went past my knees, so it covered up the swollen parts and bruises. The shimmering red complimented my golden skin tone, and I knew it was just the thing to make Nick beg.
    “Of course, that kind of dress might give your date the wrong idea,” Rose Marie said with a little frown. “I don’t know if you should advertise yourself like that.”
    I was past the point of caring what I was advertising. My feet hurt, my Extra Strength Tylenol was wearing off and I was one step away from telling Rose Marie exactly what she could do with her opinions on fashion. “I’m buying this dress,” I said defiantly.
    Rose Marie blinked up at me owlishly. “It’s a beautiful dress. Of course, it’ll look better with Spanx. That way you don’t’ have any unseemly lumps.”
    “Are you saying I have lumps?” I asked, my voice sounding suspiciously like a junkyard dog growling.
    “No, no,” she said, swallowing nervou sly. “Even the movie stars wear them. I read it in a magazine. It’ll just make you more streamlined. Though it might be a hindrance if you’re looking to get lucky.” She pursed her lips and looked thoughtful. “There’s nothing sexy about looking like your body’s being squeezed out of a sausage casing.”
    My eyes got bigger the longer she talked and I realized I’d been out of the dating game far too long. Greg and I had been together two years, so I’d gotten comfortable not having to make too much of an effort.
    “Sweet Mary,” I said as imagines flitted through my mind of putting Nick’s eye out with a girdle.
    “ Of course, you won’t have to worry about it if you don’t give in too easy.”
    “ Right.” I nodded my head in agreement and tried to look non-desperate. “Let’s go buy some Spanx. It’s like a modern day chastity belt.”
    Rose Marie hefted herself off the bench as I made my way back toward the fitting room. “Of course, you could always buy the crotchless kind just in case.”
    My eye twitched once before I closed myself in the dressing room. I really needed a margarita.

    After spending a couple of hours in Rose Marie’s company, I had the sinking feeling I knew why she spent most of her time with her dogs. She was the most socially inept person I’d ever come across. And I’d come across my share. Rose Marie made me look like a freaking diplomat.
    I dragged her through the mall in search of killer shoes for the killer dress I’d just spent a fortune on. But the way I looked at it, a measly couple hundred bucks wasn’t all that much in the grand scheme of the whole five thousand I was saving for. Skewed logic works in mysterious ways when you’re desperate for sexy shoes.
    I found the perfect strappy four-inch heels for slightly less than I paid for the dress and rationalized the cost somehow in my mind when I stood in line to pay for them, but I’ve since forgotten what my reasoning was.
    Rose Marie was bouncing happily beside me as I handed over my credit card. She was obviously spending money vicariously. I was thinking I needed to skip the margarita and go straight to the hot fudge sundae. I didn’t even have to feel guilty about it because I knew the Spanx would suck in the calories from the chocolate sauce.
    “Excuse me,” said a husky southern voice that was as thick as butter cream from behind me.
    I’m not afraid to admit that I was a little scared to turn around. All I needed was an irate spouse who I’d recently caught cheating to shove