Page 46 of The Bad Girl List

“You're really good. Can I see the picture you did of my truck?” he asks.

“Yes, but only if you promise not to laugh. It’s one page back.”

“The only thing laughable about my truck is the paint job–oh.” He stops as he flips the page. His face muscles spasm in a way that suggests he’s suppressing laughter. “Um, did you make my truck look like a cross between my grandpa and a superhero?”

“Uh-huh.” If my artistic weirdness was ever in question, it’s not anymore.

His truck is wearing a cape. The windshield resembles a superhero mask with eyes, the grill shaped in such a way to resemble Gramps.

“That used to be my grandpa’s truck. He gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday.” Trevor turns the sketchbook, holding the picture in front of my face. “And my dog is the trusty sidekick?”

Tequila stands proudly on top of the truck, her three legs on display with a cape billowing out behind her.

“Did I mention I have a raging hangover?” I say.

“I think you’re the only person in the world besides me and Gramps who considers my truck and my dog worthy of a superhero cape.”

He’s taking my artistic personality really well. It settles my uneasiness.

“If you think that’s weird, flip back one more page,” I say. “I drew a picture of gnomes beating at the inside of my skull with pick axes. It’s how I felt when I woke up this morning.”

“I can relate.” He turns the page, his eyes taking in my maniacal gnomes scrambling around an exposed brain with gleaming weapons. His chuckle feels like warm honey sliding over my skin. “I fucking love your creativity.”

I ignore the melting sensation happening at my core when he smiles at me. “When I was younger, I drew all the time. Just about every day. Even in college I would draw as a way to relax. This vacation is the first time I've picked up my sketchpad in almost two years.”

“Two years?” he exclaims. “Why? Because of your ex?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I got sucked into my job. Worked through my lunches, stayed late at the office, even went in on the weekends sometimes. I didn’t have any energy to draw by the time I finished working. I was trying to impress my boss, you know? Prove to her I had what it takes to be promoted.”

“Is this the same boss who fired you?”

“Yeah.” I don’t know why I’m telling him all this. Maybe because it feels nice to be recognized for my creativity. Maybe because he’s easy for me to talk to.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Dom, but maybe getting fired from that place was a good thing. You’re clearly an artist. Anything that takes you so far away from who you are can’t be a good thing.”

“That’s what Annika says. She said that place sucked out my soul.”

“If the work there prevented you from creating pictures like this, I’d have to agree with her.” He waves the picture of Super Tequila and his truck in front of me. “You said you worked for a design firm, right? What sort of design firms sucks out the souls of their designers?”

This conversation is getting a little too close for comfort to the Moretti wine label. It’s time to change the subject.

“Let me see that.” I take the sketchbook out of Trevor’s hand and gently rip out the drawing. “Here, you can keep it. Super Tequila’s portrait should be with her dad.”

Trevor takes it from me. “I’ll frame it. Anytime she complains about her three legs, I’ll just show her this picture and remind her that, in an alternate dimension, she’s a superhero. Or is it a super dog?”

“Definitely a superhero.” I giggle at Trevor’s obvious love affair with his dog. “I think I’d better get back to my family. Can you still drive me to the next winery?”

“Of course. It will coincide with our story for dinner tomorrow. I’ll grab my keys.” He pauses after he sets Tequila on the ground. “What do you think about going out tonight? Are you free?”

His question catches me off-guard. I can feel those birds fluttering under my rib cage again. “You want to go out tonight?”

“We should get to know each other before dinner tomorrow so we won’t seem like total strangers. My dad might get suspicious. You saw what he’s like.”

“So you want to go out and, what, play Twenty Questions?”

“Sure. That sounds like a good idea.”

“Can I bring Annika?”

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