Page 111 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“We’re trying to make money, not get sued,” Rainbow muttered under her breath as she followed Ellery. Instead of her usual boxy suit, Rainbow was wearing a long flowing skirt in purple and… pasties on her otherwise bare and ample bosom.
“Holy shit,” Davis murmured. He’d intended only to turn around but rapped smartly into the wall instead.
“Oh, like you haven’t seen your share of these,” Rainbow said, rolling her eyes.
“What’s uh… what’s going on?” Eden asked, clearing her throat, looking everywhere but Rainbow’s boobs.
“Oh! Eden! Davis! How lovely to see you,” Bruce said, poking his head out of the second room. Bruce was wearing an olive wreath on his head and a very short Greek tunic that bared his chest and gapped over his ass. There was a large white screen set up behind him and a camera on a tripod. Nikolai Vulkov, Emma’s husband and famed photographer, was sitting on a folding chair with his head in his hands.
“Oh, hey… Bruce. What’s hanging? I mean jiggling. Shaking! What’s shaking?” Eden asked in a strangled voice.
“Bruce, Amethyst’s body paint is dry,” Gordon announced wielding an airbrush. “Do you want to come see before her shots?”
“Please excuse me.” Bruce sidestepped with dignity across the hall, accidentally flashing his ass to two librarians who were minding their own business shelving books.
“Uh, Niko,” Davis called into the now empty room.
“I’m not looking up unless you promise me you’re fully clothed,” Niko said miserably.
“Fully clothed,” Davis promised.
Warily, Niko raised his gaze.
“What the hell is going on?” Eden asked.
“I love my wife very, very much. That’s what’s going on,” Niko said.
“Emma roped you into this?” Davis clarified, eyeing the props. Plates of grapes, gold chargers, an acoustic guitar.
He nodded. “It was some kind of emergency, according to Gia and Eva. They need to raise money. When they said a calendar, I didn’t think it would be a barely concealed nudity calendar. I live here four days a week. How can I look these people in the eye ever again? Pasties on the bank president! I’ve been staring at Bruce’s ass cheeks for the last thirty minutes!”
“They’re trying to raise money with a nudey calendar?” Eden shot Davis a triumphant look.
“Something about budget concerns. Do you have liquor on you? I’ll literally drink anything if it gets me through this,” Niko begged.
“Sorry, man,” Davis said, slapping Niko on the shoulder.
“I’ll text Emma,” Eden promised. “I’m sure she can send someone from the brewery.”
“Please hurry. I have to shoot my sisters-in-law dressed as mermaids next. I’ve shot naked super models painted in oil on an airfield in Paris. I don’t think I can do this.”
“We’ll send help,” Davis promised lamely as Eden towed him toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here before we see Gordon’s junk—Oh God. Never mind.”
They raced down the hall in the direction of the atrium and away from Gordon Berkowicz’s skinny form.
“The Beautification Committee claims another innocent victim,” Eden giggled over her shoulder when they hit the stairs.
Davis dashed down the stairs behind Eden wondering if they’d just gotten an even better revenge than they could have planned.
43
They laughed to the point of hysteria the whole way home.
Davis wiped his eyes as Eden maneuvered the inn’s twisting drive. “I’m going to say it. Seeing Bruce like that was worth a burned-down kitchen. I feel avenged.”
Eden laughed. “I honestly didn’t think they’d take things this far. I almost wish we would have gotten a peek at Amethyst’s body paint.”
