And that, she figured, was that.
Chapter Eleven
Wednesday night was Paint and Sip night with the girls. With the exception of last week, when she was in virtual house arrest/protective custody/Lustville, Gina never missed it. Tonight, she almost ditched, but that would have led to more questions than she wanted to answer, so she put on her big-girl panties—not the little black lace ones—and made her way down to Evanston Avenue and the art studio that sat above the hardware store down the block from Marino’s Sports Bar. It had seemed like her best option, right up until she walked in and faced down the two women in the world who knew her best.
“You look different.” Lucy cocked her head to one side and gave her a long up-and-down look while she sipped her rosé. “What have you been up to? Was being up to your elbows in house renovations code for finally getting naked with someone tall, dark, and epically talented with his tongue?”
Gina stopped herself from looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the counter, where Larry, who owned Paint and Sip, was serving up small plastic cups of the best cheap wine money could buy. Did she really look that different? It had been two days. Surely they couldn’t see that spot at the base of her neck where Ford had nipped her.
Trying to be as subtle about it as possible, she adjusted the neckline of her T-shirt to make sure the collar hadn’t slipped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucy didn’t look convinced. In fact, she looked even more suspicious as she peered at Gina through her signature glasses with the bright red frames before turning to the third in their little trifecta. “Do you believe her, Tess? Because I don’t.”
Gina and Lucy turned to Tess.
The much shorter, auburn-haired florist didn’t hesitate. “Nope.”
“Well, sorry to ruin it for you, but there’s nothing to tell.” Okay, that was a straight-up lie to her best friends, but it wasn’t like there was a possibility of her seeing Ford again, so why bring it up? “What are we painting tonight?”
Lucy dropped her gaze down to Gina’s neckline. “Aardvarks drowning in the ocean.”
“Interesting,” Gina said and sat down in front of one of the large canvases with a few swooping lines drawn in pencil on it.
Tess and Lucy exchanged a she’s-totally-full-of-it glance and joined her.
“Liar. That’s not interesting, it’s totally preposterous. Even Larry wouldn’t have dreamed up something so ludicrous.” Lucy turned and gave their instructor a cheery wave as she sat down. “No offense, Larry.”
The balding man in the Stay Weird apron splattered with several years’ worth of dried paint just rolled his eyes. After two years of the three of them being here every Wednesday night, he’d either learned to put up with Lucy’s brash ways or how to pretend like he had.
Tess sat down at the canvas next to Gina’s, putting her plastic cup of wine down near her paint brushes and a second cup next to the last canvas in their row. She was too distracted wondering why the normally one-glass-and-done Tess was double fisting it to realize she was under attack until it was too late.
Lucy snagged her shirt, pulled the collar just enough to reveal the hickey Ford had left, and cried out in triumph. “I knew it wasn’t just home renovations last week. You were shacked up with a dude. Finally!”
Gina force herself to take a measured sip of her rosé, even though she just wanted to chug the bottle. Paint and Sip night was not the place she wanted to have this discussion.
“It was the wedding guy,” Tess said with a gasp.
“Oh my God, say yes. Say it was the wedding guy, because he sounded so flippin’ hot.”
“Who sounded hot?” asked a woman from behind her.
Gina turned to see who was moving in on their conversation and almost fell off her stool. The plastic cup slipped in her grip, but she managed not to drop it. Some of the pink wine did slosh over the side and landed smack dab in the middle of her shirt, because why only be humiliated once when you could get a second helping for free? It was the universe’s version of an embarrassment buy-one-get-one-free sale.