It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,9

been raised by my wonderfully foul-mouthed Gram, who didn’t have much better luck with the opposite sex than her daughter or her granddaughter.

“If you wanna be invisible to the male species, you’re gonna have to gain fifty pounds and get a haircut like our friend Heather here,” Jennifer announced with an enormous grin.

“I’m going to ignore that,” Heather said. She scrubbed her hands through her very attractive pixie cut and gave Jennifer the middle finger. “I happen to like my hair and you can shove it up your ass.”

“Ladies, that’s enough,” June, the resident peacemaker, chastised with a giggle. “We need to get back to work. But honestly, Daisy, when was the last time you had a date?”

Her question was asked kindly. These women adored me as much as I adored them, but my personal life was mine—embarrassingly awful and mine. They had worried about me for months after Steve died. It had taken me almost a year to decide that my husband would want me to be a happy person and not mope around for the rest of my life.

It was actually a dream… he’d visited me in a dream. Steve had yelled at me for about an hour. It was awesome. He told me to get a haircut with some fun highlights and stop eating donuts for dinner. My best friend in the world forbade me from wearing sweatpants, t-shirts and flip-flops to the grocery and was appalled at the state of my manicure. I took him up on his bossy advice, but dating was not on the table anymore.

After Hairy CPA Stan of the Small Man-junk, I was done. Plus, I now had my deceased houseguests to deal with. Dead people and dating didn’t go well together.

“I went on a date of sorts last night,” I said. “It sucked and I’m taking a break.”

“Good luck with that,” Jennifer commented evenly as she put six sugars in her coffee. “Every time I make a statement like that, I end up with another husband sucking me dry.”

“Holy crap. Why do you have broken blood vessels around your eyes?” Heather asked with concern as she gently touched Jennifer’s face.

“Botox,” Jennifer replied with an eye roll and a laugh. “Got my alimony check from that bastard Scott and spent it on my face. When the divorce settlement from Bob comes in, I’m thinking about getting the fat sucked out of my ass and thighs.”

Jennifer certainly knew how to render a room silent. Heather just shook her head and sighed. Jennifer was on a self-improvement kick that didn’t include exercise or eating right. All she needed was money—compliments of her exes—and a plastic surgeon.

“Shit hasn’t kicked in yet,” Jennifer went on as she added another overflowing teaspoon of sugar to her coffee. “Got it done five days ago. Don’t think it worked. I’m still as wrinkly as Albert Einstein’s ass after a three-hour bath.”

“Dear God,” June said as she watched Jennifer create her caffeinated sugar rush. “You’re going to get diabetes. You need to use the fake kind.”

“Too many chemicals,” Jennifer told her. She added one more heaping teaspoon of sugar just to watch June blanch. “You can get cancer from that crap.”

“You’re disgusting,” Heather informed Jennifer as she looked on in horrified amazement.

“Thank you,” Jennifer replied with a smirk and a small curtsy. “But back to Daisy…”

Damn. I was hoping to get away without any more character assessments or advice.

“You just need to put yourself back out there and maybe date a guy with tattoos,” Jennifer suggested as she took a sip of her drink and gagged.

Pride made her drink the cup of caffeinated sugar. I laughed as I watched her power it down.

“I’ll take that under consideration,” I promised as I headed for the door.

Maybe taking a week away from my well-meaning coworkers would be a good thing.

Or maybe not.

I’d see them tonight at my birthday dinner. My birthday. My rules.

No discussing Daisy’s love life.

Good luck to me.

Chapter Three

It was too damn big. It was never going to fit. I bit down on my bottom lip and glared at the problem. The area was tight and the product was large. Would it be better to just shove it in or would easing it in work better? The last thing I needed was to tear it. That would make a holy mess and the repercussions could be painful.

I broke out in a sweat wanting to get the damn deed done before I got caught in the office when I was supposed