Nonna spoke with mock severity from the door of the restroom at The Board Room, and I froze, willing myself not to puke in front of her. “Madonna Santa, you gave us a fright! Are you okay in there?”
“Just a sec,” I croaked from behind the stall door, a flood of watery saliva filling my mouth. Normally, I ate the smoked duck on the charcuterie party platter as if it were crack. However, before Rex and I could even get to the main event, I had to dash to the toilet. The smell of that poultry nearly had me coughing up my cookies in front of everyone. There wasn’t much to see in our small town, so hearing about how Mrs. Jolene Pritchett, owner of the now well-known Peen-Unseen, puked right in front of the patrons of the jam-packed restaurant, would make those who didn’t witness it for themsel
