The Fixer Upper by Mary Kay Andrews

Author:Mary Kay Andrews [Andrews, Mary Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

36

“Awwww, sheee-uut,” Jimmy drawled. “I didn’t see he was with her.”

“Quick, who is that woman?” I demanded. “They’re coming over here!”

“You don’ wanna know,” Jimmy said.

Tee and the brunette approached the table.

“Hey, Jimmy,” the brunette said. She wore a cream-colored business suit, had sapphire-colored eyes, a pointy chin, and full, pouty lips, and in her four-inch spike heels, she towered over Tee by at least an inch. “Who’s your friend?”

“Hey, Shirlene,” Jimmy mumbled, looking away. “This is…uh, Dempsey.”

“Hi, Jimmy, hi, Dempsey,” Tee said. There were two bright pink spots on his cheeks. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “So…this is awkward.”

“Ain’t it just,” Jimmy said, jiggling the ice in his empty glass. “Good thing we were just about to leave.”

The brunette grabbed the glass out of his hand and gave it a sniff. “Jimmy Maynard! Have you been drinking bourbon?”

Jimmy slumped backward in his chair and gave her a lazy smile. “Why, yes, ma’am, as a matter of fact I have.”

Shirlene rolled her eyes and gave a huff of exasperation. “Dempsey? Is that your name?”

“Dempsey Killebrew,” I said, holding out my hand.

She took mine and gave it a brief shake. “Shirlene Peppers. Look, Dempsey, did Jimmy drive you over here tonight?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Lorrrrd,” she said. She had both hands on her hips and she looked down at the two of us as though she’d caught us skipping school.

“If you’re gonna sleep with the man, there’s something you need to know. You never give Jimmy Maynard bourbon. He just can’t handle brown liquor. Everybody in town knows that. He can drink wine and beer till the cows come home, and a little vodka at parties, even, but you do not give this man whiskey. Understood?”

“Whoa! Time-out. Who said I was sleeping with him? And besides that, I didn’t give him anything,” I protested. “The waiter brought him over a drink before we even sat down.”

The aforesaid waiter had the misfortune to arrive back at the table at that exact moment, with another beaker of poison water for Jimmy Maynard.

“Manny!” Shirlene said, whirling around to face him. “Is this true? Did you serve Mr. Maynard bourbon, even after what happened the last time?”

Manny stared down at his lace-up black shoes. “Yes’m.”

“Lorrrrd,” Shirlene said again, shaking her head with disgust. She looked from me to Jimmy to Tee. “Well? What are you planning to do about this mess?”

Why did I feel like I was the one facing detention—or worse, expulsion? “I was hoping to get out of here without causing a scene,” I said in a low voice. “But I think that’s probably a lost cause now.” When I looked up, a dozen people sitting at the tables around us glanced quickly away—down at their plates, or off into the distance.

Shirlene waved away my concern. “Oh, don’t mind these people. They know how Jimmy gets when he drinks whiskey. So—can you drive home? Because I promise you, he cannot.”

“Uh, no. I never learned to drive a manual transmission.”

She gave another exasperated huff.

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