Page 88 of Mistaken Identity
I grinned at Searcy’s thoughts.
“It’s a man’s shop.” I chuckled. “I don’t mind all the mostly naked women. I think it’s funny.”
“I guess I don’t mind, either,” she admitted. “I think. That woman has better boobs than me, though. I feel like it’s a taunt.”
“You have great boobs,” Aella pointed out.
Aella, Searcy, Baker and Silver were standing in Audric’s office with me taking it all in.
Audric had called an hour ago asking me for a favor.
He had to go to a therapy appointment with his mom.
Meanwhile, he had several invoices that needed to be mailed out and he’d forgotten.
Hence, my winding up at his office with four other women.
We were having a girls’ day.
All five of us were going to go get our nails done, get a massage, and later have margaritas for happy hour.
Well, all of us who weren’t pregnant.
Baker and Aella were out for that part.
But they were all for the Mexican food, so that was our plan for the day.
It’d started last night when we were at the clubhouse hanging out while the boys had a club meeting.
While we’d been sitting there, it’d somehow gotten brought up that we should go out to eat tomorrow for happy hour at El Sombrero.
It’d devolved from there, and now we were all packed into Aella’s Suburban, squeezed between car seats.
I picked up the invoices that were stamped and ready to go, then turned around to see one of the oldest posters on the wall.
“This one looks like you,” Silver pointed out.
“I definitely don’t have those boobs,” I admitted. “But that’s one of his longest-standing posters he’s had around. He had that when he was fifteen. Got it off the Mac Tool Truck. I’m convinced he thought it looked like me and he was trying to embarrass me by putting it up in his room.”
“I could see him doing that,” Baker snickered. “He’s funny like that.”
I tapped the envelopes against my lower lip before I said, “It’s kind of one of my goals. One day, I want to create one of those beer posters for him. I’m tempted to put it up all over his walls over these.”
“Why not do it?” Searcy asked.
I looked at her. “I don’t know anyone that I trust enough to take half-naked photos of me.”
Her brows furled. “I do.”
“Really?” I asked.
“My sister,” she said. “She’s been taking photography lessons for a while now. She thinks that she wants to do it for her career.”
“She’s really good, too,” Baker interjected. “Like really, really good.”
“She could do it today.” Searcy had her phone out and she was texting away. “We could go get our hair blown out instead of getting our nails done. Makeup done after that. We could all take beer poster photos for our men!”
I grinned. “I’m down!”
