Page 1 of Sweet Like Whiskey

Chapter 1

Ash

There comes a time in life when a person has to decide whether they’re going to continue down the same well-marked path they’ve been traveling for far too long or whether they’re going to jump the guardrails and go offroad.

I’ve jumped the rails.

“This is fine,” I say to myself, checking my navigation as yet another mile of empty road passes. “We’re almost there. Everything is justfine.”

It’s so not fine.

“Me and you, right, Edna? We’ve got this.”

My car sputters, and I let out an equally undignified squawk.

“Edna! Don’t you dare crap out on me now. Stay strong, woman.”

In response, there’s a loudclunk, and my 2007 Honda Civic in tango red stalls out right in the middle of the road not two miles from my destination.

“This. Is.Fine.”

With a little more force than necessary, I pull my keys from the ignition and step out of the car. There’s no smoke or dramatic glaring signs telling me what’s wrong when I pop the hood. In fact, I have no clue what I’m even supposed to be looking for.

Muttering a curse, I head back to the driver’s side door and pull my phone from the holder on the dash. Naturally, I ring Virginia.

“C’mon, c’mon,” I mutter, tapping my foot.

“Hey, baby boy,” my closest friend and most favorite troublemaker says in greeting. Before I can admonish her for calling mebaby boy—I’m thirty-five years old, thank you very much—she goes on. “Are you here?”

“I’m here,” I confirm. “There’s just been aslighthiccup.”

“I’m listening,” Virginia says, the din of conversation and the sound of clinking glasses accompanying her voice down the line.

“I broke down,” I tell her.

There’s a beat of silence, and then my friend laughs.

“Thanks so much, Ginnie,” I groan. “So very helpful.”

She snorts before her voice is back in my ear. “Where are you?”

“A couple miles away,” I answer, peering around at the admittedly beautiful landscape. Trees dot the sides of the road, the tips of some of the leaves just beginning to yellow, and tall grasses spread like a blanket far and wide in every direction. In the distance, the mountains stretch toward the sky, their stony peaks blending seamlessly into airy blue. It’s gorgeous. Like a postcard.

“Well, better get walking,” Virginia says.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind is a screech.

“I’m sorry,” I say slowly. “I must have misheard. Did you just tell me towalk?”

“Baby, I’m already at work, and you’re only fifteen minutes away. Put those pretty feet of yours to use and walk on down the road. I’ll have a couple welcome shots ready for you.”

Pretty feet?

“Oh, and Ash?” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Watch out for the donkey.”

---