make for some great people watching. Listen.” I leaned forward so she could hear me over the killer sound system. “Dan and I were talking about your school project, and I think I have an idea.”
I went on to outline the highlights of my conversation with Dan over the horrendous sounds of the Sluts firing up the Karaoke machine. Covering one ear with her fingers to block out their caterwauling rendition of Gloria Gaynor, Stacy nodded her head enthusiastically right up until I got to the part where I said she could give me five percent of profits for developing the recipes and training her employees.
“I wouldn’t feel comfortable with five, Molly. Make it ten percent and you have yourself a deal. It’s your tasty treats that people love. No one makes a sugar cookie like you do. Besides, you’re going to have to find a replacement for me at Wrapgasmic, and it might take two people to do what I do.”
“Will you still do the Twitter and Facebook and Instagram crap for Wrapgasic?” I asked.
She shrugged as if I asked her to pick up my dry-cleaning. “Of course. Will you still help me bake at the holidays?”
“Duh. Then you have yourself a deal. I can hook you up with all the contacts for wholesale ingredients. We can use the commercial kitchen that I rent until you save enough up for your own industrial kitchen. I’ll call Robbie to get some papers drawn up after Joe and I get back from the honeymoon.”
“Oooo! Where are you going on your honeymoon? Is he taking you to Hedonism?” Jay popped into the conversation, slithering closer to us and making himself at home.
“Joe does give off a bit of a freaky swinger vibe, doesn’t he?” Lisa asked, just as Dan appeared beside her topping off her glass with a giant splash of vodka straight from the bottle.
“I think that’s just wishful thinking, sweetie.” Dan said to Lisa. Jay sniffed, but when Dan held out the bottle toward him, Jay raised his glass to accept Dan’s offering.
“Put the damn shirt on, Molly!” Robin called from across the bus. I narrowed my eyes at her and wondered just how much she’d had to drink before I’d climbed aboard. Considering she was our resident medical professional, I hoped no one needed CPR before the night was over.
Minutes later we debarked from The Cherry Bomb and went into the first stop on our pub crawl. Since they wouldn’t let me off the bus without it, I was wearing the ugly Dare shirt over my pretty blouse. Thankfully, we were at Coyote Ugly, so I knew I’d be able to bang out a couple of the ridiculous demands from my shirt’s checklist right away. I wanted to shed the damn thing and look semi cute for at least some of the pictures.
The minute we walked in, I knew there was going to be pandemonium. The place was packed, but we were quickly ushered toward reserved tables that earned us glares from many women and curiosity from scores of men.
“Hey, Bachelorette! Want to sew some wild oats?” I blinked in surprise at the large cowboy who was suddenly in my face.
“Don’t go away mad, Tex. Just go away.” Tamryn replied for me.
“Wait. Give me your number first.” I stopped and handed him the black marker. He looked confused. “Write your number on my shirt.”
“Alright.” He drawled and made a production of signing my boob right over my left nipple, copping a feel in the process.
“Hey!” I protested. A flash went off right next to my face and I heard the unmistakable sound of Lisa giggling. I glared at her.
“Now what?” The cowboy asked with a drunken grin.
“Now check that off my list.” I instructed him, and he complied.
“Why don’t you come sit on my lap?” He slurred, putting his arm around me. “We can talk about the first thing that comes up.”
He smelled like body odor and regret, and I tried not to make a face.
“Wow. That’s incredibly tempting.” I deadpanned.
“Fuck off.” Tamryn snapped at him, yanking me and the marker away from him. This elicited a
I went on to outline the highlights of my conversation with Dan over the horrendous sounds of the Sluts firing up the Karaoke machine. Covering one ear with her fingers to block out their caterwauling rendition of Gloria Gaynor, Stacy nodded her head enthusiastically right up until I got to the part where I said she could give me five percent of profits for developing the recipes and training her employees.
“I wouldn’t feel comfortable with five, Molly. Make it ten percent and you have yourself a deal. It’s your tasty treats that people love. No one makes a sugar cookie like you do. Besides, you’re going to have to find a replacement for me at Wrapgasmic, and it might take two people to do what I do.”
“Will you still do the Twitter and Facebook and Instagram crap for Wrapgasic?” I asked.
She shrugged as if I asked her to pick up my dry-cleaning. “Of course. Will you still help me bake at the holidays?”
“Duh. Then you have yourself a deal. I can hook you up with all the contacts for wholesale ingredients. We can use the commercial kitchen that I rent until you save enough up for your own industrial kitchen. I’ll call Robbie to get some papers drawn up after Joe and I get back from the honeymoon.”
“Oooo! Where are you going on your honeymoon? Is he taking you to Hedonism?” Jay popped into the conversation, slithering closer to us and making himself at home.
“Joe does give off a bit of a freaky swinger vibe, doesn’t he?” Lisa asked, just as Dan appeared beside her topping off her glass with a giant splash of vodka straight from the bottle.
“I think that’s just wishful thinking, sweetie.” Dan said to Lisa. Jay sniffed, but when Dan held out the bottle toward him, Jay raised his glass to accept Dan’s offering.
“Put the damn shirt on, Molly!” Robin called from across the bus. I narrowed my eyes at her and wondered just how much she’d had to drink before I’d climbed aboard. Considering she was our resident medical professional, I hoped no one needed CPR before the night was over.
Minutes later we debarked from The Cherry Bomb and went into the first stop on our pub crawl. Since they wouldn’t let me off the bus without it, I was wearing the ugly Dare shirt over my pretty blouse. Thankfully, we were at Coyote Ugly, so I knew I’d be able to bang out a couple of the ridiculous demands from my shirt’s checklist right away. I wanted to shed the damn thing and look semi cute for at least some of the pictures.
The minute we walked in, I knew there was going to be pandemonium. The place was packed, but we were quickly ushered toward reserved tables that earned us glares from many women and curiosity from scores of men.
“Hey, Bachelorette! Want to sew some wild oats?” I blinked in surprise at the large cowboy who was suddenly in my face.
“Don’t go away mad, Tex. Just go away.” Tamryn replied for me.
“Wait. Give me your number first.” I stopped and handed him the black marker. He looked confused. “Write your number on my shirt.”
“Alright.” He drawled and made a production of signing my boob right over my left nipple, copping a feel in the process.
“Hey!” I protested. A flash went off right next to my face and I heard the unmistakable sound of Lisa giggling. I glared at her.
“Now what?” The cowboy asked with a drunken grin.
“Now check that off my list.” I instructed him, and he complied.
“Why don’t you come sit on my lap?” He slurred, putting his arm around me. “We can talk about the first thing that comes up.”
He smelled like body odor and regret, and I tried not to make a face.
“Wow. That’s incredibly tempting.” I deadpanned.
“Fuck off.” Tamryn snapped at him, yanking me and the marker away from him. This elicited a
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