Fleeced at Yappy Hour by Diana Orgain

Author:Diana Orgain [Orgain, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lemonade Press

Chapter 2

“Salmonella?” I asked.

“Nonsense!” Yolanda shrieked. She had such an indignant look on her face that I pulled the phone away from her before she could burst into flames. “She’s blaming her hangover on chicken? Ridiculous!”

“Tell her I’m on my way,” I said to Nurse Joan.

Nurse Joan grumbled something into the phone I couldn’t understand. Then there was a rustling sound and she said, “Hold on a minute.”

“Maggie?” My sister’s voice filled the line. She sounded as if she had rocks in her mouth.

“Rachel! How do you feel? What happened?”

Next to me, Yolanda angled her head toward the phone again, straining to hear.

“I kept throwing up and . . . uh . . .” She sighed and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you later, okay? I’m so tired . . . sleepy. It must be the pain medicine they gave me.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“No, uh . . . Maggie, you have to do Yappy Hour. There’s a woman . . . oh . . . I can’t remember her name. She going to visit the bar tonight. You have to be open. She’s the editor of Doggie Day—”

Yolanda let out a squeal. “Doggie Day!”

“Who’s that?” Rachel asked.

“Yolanda,” I said.

“Hi, Yo,” Rachel said. “Let me talk to her.”

“I’m not bartending while you’re in the hospital!” I said. “I’m coming to see you—”

“I’m not dying, Maggie. You can check on me later. They’re just holding me to monitor—”

“I’m on my way.”

“No! Ugh . . . You’re impossible. Let me talk to Yolanda,” Rachel said.

Yolanda snatched the phone out of my hand and walked away from me so I couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation. Although I could clearly hear Yolanda’s exaggerated gasps and whispers of, “Doggie Day? Oh my goodness gracious! They’re coming here?”

Through the front window of the bar, I saw a crowd approaching. I glanced at my watch. Just like clockwork, the Roundup Crew was ready for Yappy Hour. My friends Abigail, Brenda, and Max were in the lead. Brenda and Max had started up a romance and were holding hands. Behind them, I could see Yolanda’s nemesis, the infamous Geraldine, and next to her was a woman I hadn’t seen before.

Each of them had a small dog attached to the end of a Wine and Bark Day-Glo green leashes. They had just come from their Friday afternoon walk on the beach, so most of them were wearing shorts and sunhats.

I took a deep breath to fortify myself; dealing with the dogs had never been my strong suit, especially as they never seemed particularly fond of me.

The door flung open, and Beepo eagerly ran to greet them, his tiny nails scratching along the terra-cotta floor. As the group streamed into the bar, the cacophony of yapping dogs reverberated off the walls.

Abigail rushed over to me. “Maggie! I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you’d be packing.” Her dog, Missy, a white Shih Tzu wearing a rhinestone bow on the top of her head, sniffed around my ankles and barked accusingly.

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