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Chapter One

“Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world”

—Marilyn Monroe

Harbor City, New York

Sylvie Bissette squeezed her arht around herto puke all over her sister’s wedding dress right here in the bride’s dressing rooive her, especially since she athed in the ivory gown their fathers had designed

Too bad it was too late

Cla her hand over her mouth, Sylvie twisted away froh to crack a tooth She sucked in a deep breath through her teeth until her lungs were the size of the Goodyear blimp, then exhaled slow and controlled What little stouzzled whisky like water last night burned and twisted

God, if you’re listening, let lass of white wine Two max Okay, three, but no more, I promise

Her red eyes itched She hadn’t passed out with her contacts in and her shoes on since college All that had changed a otten lost on her way to the bathroo down on a waiter

The ies still played in her head like aher to listen The other , “…other brokers wouldn’t understand…up for a big pros of rehearsal guests Swiping the biggest bottle of Glenlivet XXV single e it to her roo its way down her throat The thirtieth swig barely causing a flinch Hoisting the bottle high and toasting the scorched carcass of her love life and wondering hoo-teray

No shit, Sherlock