“Our wine bottle is empty.” Nan stood, weaved, and then moved to the snack table. “Never mind, I found another one.”
Chuckles filled the room, but when I looked at Greg, he wasn’t smiling. I tried to keep the conversation light. “I hope they’re not going to drive out of here.”
“Change that sentence to they aren’t driving anywhere. I’m not going to allow it. And if they fight me, well, Toby will just get a call as soon as he gets behind the wheel. We might have to make a detour on the way home to drop off those two if no one else is going that way. I’m not taking a chance that he’s any more sober that she is.” Greg added green to his painting but moved the easel a bit so he could watch Nan and Steve. “This is why I hated my job as a bouncer in college. Some people just don’t know their limits.”
“I didn’t know you had been a bouncer.” Amy leaned around me to look at Greg. “So that was your first job in the security field?”
“Bouncing’s more like being a childcare worker or a high school playground guard. Someone’s always pushing buttons,” he grumbled.
“Leave Greg alone, dear. He’s in cop mode.” Justin nodded at Greg. “If you need help getting them somewhere, we’re heading north to my apartment. I can take them if they live that way.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re tourists. Meredith said they were staying at Main Street B and B.”
I glanced over to see where Meredith was. Maybe she could help me with the whole blue section that somehow looked green on my canvas. She was talking to Nan. Hopefully she was having as much of a problem following the directions as I was, because my friends’ paintings all looked like the sample in the front of the room. Mine, not so much.
I added white paint to my brush, then swept it over the painting, and for a second I did see the seagulls that we were copying. Then I added more paint and the birds turned into a blob. I dropped my brush onto the butcher paper covering the table. “I hate arts and crafts.”
“Jill, don’t say that. Your painting is …” Meredith stepped up behind me and studied the mess in front of her. “Well, your painting is original. Can you answer a question? What instruction step didn’t you understand? Clearly I’m not giving good directions.”
Amy laughed and refilled her wineglass. “I think the more likely answer is Jill’s mind was somewhere else and she missed one or two steps in the process. She’s always lost in some story or the other.”
“That’s not fair.” I frowned and compared my picture with Greg’s and Amy’s. Mine didn’t look anything like either one of them. I set down my paintbrush and finished off my cheesecake. “I quit. This is just not my jam.”
“Never say quit.” Meredith started to move on to Greg’s picture but stopped. She turned back to me. “But if you wanted to work on it, I have some space in my private lesson schedule. It’s a reasonable price and you’ll get at least one frameable picture out of the six-week session.”
“I think you’re misjudging Jill’s talent. It might take a little longer than six weeks,” Amy responded.
Meredith blushed, staring at my painting. “I’m sure no one could still be this bad after a few intensive lessons. Could they?”
My friends broke out in laughter. I wanted to kick all of them under the table, but I could only reach Greg. What can I say? Love hurts.
“Meredith? Could you help me with something?” Evie called out, and our hostess hurried over and away from me.
Greg leaned up against me. “At least you tried. There’s no winner or loser here. It’s all about the experience.”
“Thanks.” I glanced at Greg’s picture and tried to copy it. I wanted at least to have something I could hang in my office at the house. Although it might be Greg’s version of the seascape that made the final cut. “Miss Emily made this all look easy. Some of her stuff is so beautiful and I can’t even paint the ocean.”
“Your friend spent many days in her studio before she died. You’ve been painting all of two hours?” Greg checked his watch. “If we kick Toby out of the apartment, I’ll make you an art studio in there.”
“As long as you get your workout room, right?” The shed Miss Emily had used as an art studio had been turned into an apartment for Toby when he’d needed a place to live. I kind of liked having him around, especially before Greg had moved in, just to have a guy around. My house is right near Highway 1 and there can be a lot of traffic going down the road. Now that Greg and I were serious, he’d talked several times about changing the apartment into a workout area. He’d even priced out the cost of a sauna to be added near the small bathroom. “Toby hasn’t said he’s moving yet.”
“You’re the landlord. Kick his butt out.” Greg sat back and contemplated his work.
“Okay, so when he has to quit both the police force and the coffee shop because he can’t afford anything nearby, who’s going to hire me a new part-time barista?” I sighed and set down my brush. I was done. There was nothing I could do to make this actually look like an ocean. Right now, it looked more like a portrait of The Blob from the movies.
Greg’s eyes widened. “Point taken. Speaking of, I need to make sure these guys have a designated driver before they slip out on me.”
I watched as Greg went over and introduced himself. I could see the idea of not driving back to the bed and breakfast wasn’t going over well, but then Neal came in from outside and joined the discussion. I couldn’t hear what was going on, but soon Greg came back to sit by me.
“What’s the plan?” I whispered, keeping my gaze away from Steve and Nan.
Greg held out his hand to help me from my chair. “If you’re ready, we can head home. Neal’s talked them into letting him drive them back. He explained it was all about his insurance, and that if something happened, even a fender bender, he’d be liable. So they agreed to let him drive them back to the B and B.”
And just like that, a possible tragedy had been averted.
Chapter 4
Greg’s cell rang way too early. He reached over to the nightstand, answered it, and like the perfect gentleman he was, took the call out into the hallway. Or maybe downstairs, as I heard Emma going down, probably wanting out.
I glanced at the clock. Three a.m.! I’m an early riser, but this was ridiculous. I rolled away from the light and went back to sleep.
When my alarm went off I reached over and found Greg’s side of the bed cold. Either he hadn’t come back to bed or he’d already gotten up and was downstairs drinking coffee. I rubbed my bleary eyes and then rubbed Emma’s head as I slipped on my flip-flops. “Hey, girl, do you need to go out? Isn’t Greg downstairs?”