“Are you hungover?” I asked her softly, appalled. “How many drinks did you have?” “I don’t know. I lost count at three. Or twelve. I’m just not certain.” “What were you doing?” My astonishment knew no bounds. “Why would you drink that much when you knew we had a wedding the next day?” “I was trying to keep up with Cookie.” “Are you insane?” She swayed back against the door and shushed me again. “Cookie’s like a competitive connoisseur. The last guy who tried to outdrink her ended up in traction for a month.” Cookie came to her own defense. “Only because a man named Jose Cuervo convinced him he
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