Page 25 of Frosted and Sliced

Her brother thought this should somehow be in Georgette’s control, but what could she do? Refuse much-needed business on the suspicion that they might be using her inn as a staging area between imbibing sessions? It was an inn, not a Victorian sitting room. She wasn’t their parent, and she couldn’t control their behavior. At the same time it hurt something in her heart terribly to have her beautiful, classy inn turned into the equivalent of an old-timey brothel. She half expected to see Miss Kitty dancing on a stage while a guy in a bowler hat sat on a wooden stool and played Joplin on the piano.

“Georgette. Where’s Georgette? Can we make snores?”

Georgette studied the bride-to-be, wondering if she had misread her lips or if she actually said snores. Given thewoman’s level of inebriation, she thought she’d probably read them correctly. Usually she tried to be an accommodating hostess, but her mind flashed to the horror of drunk women plus fire. “Nope, sorry. No s’mores tonight. Enjoy the brownies, though.” She’d set out a batch of them, along with shortbread, hoping to soak up some of the liquor the women had consumed.

“Boo,” the bride called, giving her two thumbs down, as her bridesmaids began echoing their disdain.

“We want floasted marshmammos,” one of them slurred.

Before she could answer, Georgie sensed someone behind her. For a few beats, she thought Burke might have returned early from his assignment, but it was only Brody. Was she disappointed? Not possible.

“What is going on?” he mouthed for only her benefit.“I could hear them from the end of the street.”

Georgette shrugged. What could she say? Obviously the women were drunk.

“Ladies,” he began, and eight heads whipped in his direction so quickly that two of the women fell over.

“Georgette hired a stripper,” one of them yelled.

Brody froze. “No,” he stammered, but too late because they had already started to dig in their pockets for spare ones. Two had claimed the couch and sat down, so at least that was something. “I’m a police officer.”

“My favorite,” the bride said, now sounding weepy. “You guys knew. That’s so sweet.”

“I’m an actual police officer,” Brody tried, but their shouts and claps overpowered him.

“Any other good ideas?” Georgie asked. She shouldn’t enjoy his abject panic, but she also thought it was well deserved. Sometimes Brody took big brothering a little too far, like showing up at her place of work and making demands. Would he really show up at someone else’s job and tell them how to do it?Maybe, because he was bossy like that. But still, it was kind of annoying and kneecapped her attempt at being a capable adult.

“I’m out,” Brody mouthed, backing toward the door as the women hooted and hollered in his direction. One of them threw something at him that looked suspiciously like lingerie.

“Wait, where is the boy going?” the bride demanded, while the others notched up their boos.

“He had a scheduling conflict,” Georgie said. “But we don’t need him. We have karaoke.” She pointed to the machine she’d assembled while they were wherever they went that put them in this state.

The boos turned to wolf-whistles of approval and Georgie smiled to herself, feeling pleased. This wasn’t her first go round with this particular situation, and she’d found that if the brownies didn’t get them, belting wrong lyrics would. For whatever reason, drunk girls loved karaoke. She hooked up the machine and then turned off her hearing aids, thankful to be able to block out what was about to happen. She eased to the kitchen and withdrew her phone.

What’s happening in your world tonight?Her “boyfriend,” Siggy, wrote. His name wasn’t Siggy and he probably technically wasn’t her boyfriend, but Georgie didn’t know what to call someone she’d been talking to online for months, and she wasn’t ready to reveal her real identity or know his. For now, the anonymity was comforting and safe, if not as fulfilling as she wanted it to be. It felt like being back in high school. The crushes she’d had then, usually on Brody’s friends, had been too fantastical to be anything but safe.

Drunken bridal party at my job. Currently singing Queen on karaoke.

Thank goodness for the Japanese,he replied.Seriously, though, I hope they’re not giving you too much trouble.

Georgie glanced up. The energy in the room had already started to wane. The one who currently held the karaoke mic leaned heavily against a chair and another was in danger of falling asleep or passing out while standing and swaying, her phone held aloft like a lighter.

I think they’re within thirty minutes of passing out, as long as no one snuck more booze in their luggage.

They could always go back out and buy more,Siggy suggested and Georgie chuckled to herself.

Clearly you don’t know our town. Everything has been closed for hours. Everything is tucked up and put away.She glanced out the window, seeing only darkness.Even all of the lights are off.

Sounds scary,Siggy offered.

Sometimes,Georgie agreed.

I wish I could be there to protect you,Siggy offered.

Georgie winced. His subtle hints had become a lot less subtle lately, but what could she say? It was hard to explain the reasons she was so averse to meeting in person, but mostly they revolved around fear. What they had now was so pleasant, a nice diversion from real life. What if the reality didn’t measure up to that? What ifshedidn’t measure up to that? She had told him about her hearing challenges, of course. It would have been a lie not to. She got it out of the way in the beginning, so it wouldn’t hang over them.Hey, just so you know, I have a profound hearing loss. I’ve had it since birth and learned to adapt. I use hearing aids and read lips and get by quite well.

Siggy’s response?Cool.

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