Andi Lombard expertly popped the cork from the champagne bottle and poured the bubbly into the crystal punch bowl being refilled at her elbow. “With the exception of my little sis, Nicole, those women in your living room seem kind of…” “Repressed?” Ginger Thorson grinned as she added the punch mix. “No kidding! All the nightgowns Nicole has opened so far must’ve come from the Vestal Virgin Boutique.” “I’ll bet the one you bought isn’t like that.” Andi winked. “No, ma’am. Nicole will have to hose Bowie down after she models it for him.” She put the empty champagne bottle on the counter. “We need to do something, Ging. How many more of these bottles do you have?” “That’s the last one I have chilled, but there’s more in the cupboard. I just thought—” “Chill ‘em. And let’s bring out the salty snacks to get them thirsty. If these uptight matrons don’t start slugging back the champagne punch, my stripper is going to bomb.” “You want to get them smashed?”
