Who the fuck wanted a painting of a lighthouse?
“I can’t believe you’re so excited about painting a lighthouse,” the lady I recognized as Tatiana said. “Why wouldn’t you choose a Mr. and Mrs. painting or something? And why are you in sweatpants? You’re dressed like a weirdo.”
“Because I’m a Miss, and a Mr. and Mrs. painting wouldn’t make sense for me. Plus, I’m the only one that’s not going to be married. Plus, I’m paying. I’m not doing something that I can’t actually use,” Ms. Obviously Excited about Lighthouses said. “And I’m kind of a lady, but definitely more of a weirdo.”
I snorted at that and took a sip of my beer without turning around.
It was only when Joanie had us mixing the primary paint colors to get more than the basic three—red, yellow, and blue that were provided in our class—that what the weirdo in the bridal group said had me once again paying attention to their conversation.
“What color do you get again when you mix yellow and blue?” the weirdo asked.
“Jesus,” I muttered.
Pace snorted.
I looked over and caught a ton of blonde hair piled on top of a cute little head in a messy looking bun.
I turned away when I caught sight of her midriff being exposed, and the hint of a tattoo peeking out from her waistband.
Nope. No. Nuh-uh.
Not happening, Gibbs!
***
Katy
“I’m a cop, not a miracle worker.”
I stiffened at hearing those words.
Vaguely I remembered hearing that voice as the men in the group in front of us had filed in, but I’d been quite engrossed in a new romance book that I’d purchased on Tuesday but hadn’t had a chance to read just yet thanks to my awful job. While I’d been waiting to get started with the painting, and been ignored by the others in the bachelorette party, I’d gotten quite a bit into the book, and hadn’t spared anyone else entering a glance.
Now, I did.
I looked out of the corner of my eye at the table in front of us, and one painting, in particular, caught my eye.
That definitely isn’t a lighthouse.
I bit my lip and pulled my phone out, pretending to take a selfie while in actuality, I was taking a photo of the man and his “lighthouse” painting in front of me.
Then, grinning widely, I sent the picture out to my friend and college roommate and waited for the reply.
It didn’t take long.
AJ: Is that a penis?
See, that was why AJ and I worked. She knew me just as well as I knew her. Sure, we didn’t spend much time together anymore since we’d both graduated, but that didn’t matter. I could text her, day or night, and she would be there for me. Just like I’d be there for her.
In college, when we’d both been assigned a dorm room, we’d both been much younger than the general population of students, hence being stuck together. But it’d all worked out great in the end.
Katy: Yes. Except, I don’t know if he purposefully drew a penis for his lighthouse, or if the penis is really supposed to be a lighthouse and he just really sucks at painting.
AJ: Well…I’m going with he purposefully did it, otherwise that would be just sad.
Katy: I was thinking that, too. I’m having a terrible time, by the way. I was all excited about this lighthouse, and everyone’s being a complete jerk about me picking it since it’s ‘boring.’
AJ: It is boring, Katy-did. But you like lighthouses. If they hadn’t foisted all this shit on you, then they could’ve chosen. But you paid for them all. You bought the wine. You bought the food. You paid for dinner. You literally did everything but drive their asses there.
That was most definitely true.
I’d been working at my current job for six months now, and ever since I’d started, I’d hated it. I’d hated the people more, and I was fairly sure that Tiffany asked me to throw her the bachelorette party and invited me to be in her wedding party only because she wanted me to throw it and give her an extra dress in the pictures.
“Now,” Joanie, the woman teaching this particular class, said. “The final addition will be a shooting star.”
I couldn’t help it.
I had to look and watch this man draw his shooting star.
And in the end, it totally looked like his giant penis was ejaculating all over the canvas.
It was brilliant.
Too bad he was a cop.
I had enough authority and testosterone in my life thanks to my dad, the chief of police. I didn’t need to add anything else that even resembled him to it.Chapter 1I panic at a lot of other places, not just the disco.
-Coffee Cup
Katy
“You’re such a shithead.” I pushed my German Shepherd, Lou, out of my face and away from my ice cream cone. “Go sit over there, you pig.”