“Young lady. Perhaps it’s not my place,” the Pastor starts, as if that justifies what’ll come out of his mouth next, “but what sort of extracurriculars are you involved in that require a regular designated driver on Sunday mornings?” I offer my most saccharine smile. “Smut brunch, sir. It’s a spicy romance book club. Bottomless mimosas and romance novels are necessities.” I giggle. “They’re a match made in heaven.” I place extra emphasis on the last word.
