Alexis eyed it and wondered when they’d be allowed to drink.
“Ladies,” Vivian trilled, walking to the center of the pergola. “Today’s challenge is simple,” Vivian went on. “As you all know, you will each paint Alexis. Capture her however you see fit… realistic, abstract, impressionist, avant-garde.” Hersmile widened and her bright white teeth flashed. “But do your best, because the winner will be chosen by Alexis herself. And that winner…” she let the pause stretch until several of the contestants shifted in their seats. “Will earn a one-on-one date tomorrow.”
“Any artists here?” Kinley asked when Vivian stepped back. “Because I have zero experience painting, and I’d like to know if I’m allowed to panic yet.”
Nina snorted. “I think we’re all panicking.”
Louise frowned at her canvas. “Honestly, I’m not sure Alexis is even paintable. She’s too perfect.”
Alexis’s cheeks flared pink. Compliments always made her uncomfortable, even when she knew they were exaggerated for the cameras. She could probably blame her parents for that since she was raised with a subtle reminder that a golden-haired, blue-eyed girl had to keep her ego in check, no matter what anyone said.
“Oh hush,” Alexis said, smiling too widely while also fighting the urge to shrink in on herself. “How about we get through this without giving me any compliments?”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Birdie said, glancing at her over her canvas. She smiled, those soft petal lips quirking up at the edges, and Alexis felt a heat like no other rise up like a rogue wave in her chest.
It wasn’t so much what Birdie had said, but how she looked at her, like she was undressing her, like she was envisioning her naked and might end up painting that instead.
Alexis cleared her suddenly sandpapery throat and looked down at her toes, which were clad in cream-colored wedges that went perfectly with her sky-blue linen sundress. “Well, as long as you don’t make me look like some grotesque creature, I guess you can compliment me all you want.”
Bianca picked up her paintbrush and swished it through the air like Harry Potter conjuring up a curse. “Any particular style you want us to go for? Realistic. Impressionist. And do you have a favorite side you’d like us to capture? You know, some people prefer their left side to their right. Most of us actually lack symmetry in.”
But Alexis wasn’t listening to Bianca. She was still holding onto Birdie’s gaze, wondering what she was thinking. Was Birdie replaying last night’s kiss in her head? Was she wishing the moment hadn’t been completely ruined by talk of blackmail and by Alexis opening up?
But then she snapped her gaze away the moment Vivian began to speak. “Alright, let’s not waste time. I want to see masterpieces. Give us your best strokes, your boldest colors, your wildest interpretations.”
Everyone jumped into action, grabbing brushes of every size and water cups from a table at the back, while Alexis stayed as still as humanly possible. Frankly, she’d gotten the short end of the stick. She made a note to complain to Elise since dates were supposed to include the bachelorette, not force her to sit stiffly on the sidelines like some decorative statue.
“Relax your shoulders,” Birdie called softly, dipping the tip of her paintbrush into a deep magenta.
Alexis obeyed, rolling them back as she tried not to think what Birdie could possibly paint with that color.
“Could you switch your ankles? I want to get the light hitting your legs just right,” Louise added.
Alexis adjusted, but she was careful not to switch too much in case it ruined someone else’s painting.
“The sun moved,” Louise muttered a few minutes later. “You’ve got a golden spot right on your head.”
“I like it,” Bianca said, swirling her brush across the canvas. “It’s like a halo.”
Nina leaned over, whispering without looking up. “Honestly, this is way harder than I thought. How does anyone make something look alive?”
Birdie tilted her head. “Don’t frown, Alexis. You’ll ruin my facial lines.”
Alexis didn’t even realize she was frowning. But then again, she didn’t know what her face was doing because she was trying to act poised, serene, and elegant, exactly what one would expect of a sitter.
And so it went, an endless symphony of instructions and suggestions until Alexis’s back stiffened, her legs went numb, and her stomach growled like a famished lion. What had started as a playful date activity chosen by viewers—though Alexis was beginning to doubt that was true—was rapidly morphing into a hostage situation.
Finally, Vivian yelled out, “Stop! Time is up. Step back from your canvases and let’s have a look.”
One by one, the contestants peeled away from their easels. Alexis rose slowly, since her legs were wobbling and her ankles felt like they didn’t exist, and began her walk-through.
Kinley’s canvas came up first. It was an explosion of color that looked less like an adult had done it and more like a toddler had thrown a tray of paints at the wall. Not exactly Alexis.
Nina’s attempt was painfully literal and, frankly, a little harrowing. Every detail was precise, almost obsessively so. The result was so stiff, so odd that the painting of Alexis looked like a really bad, bloated wax replica. Louise had gone for dreamy impressionism, but it ended up smudgy and formless. It was a vague blob of pastels that suggested a face, maybe, if you squinted hard enough. Isabelle’s attempt was a more modernist approach, almost to the point of incomprehensibility. She’d somehow transformed Alexis into a shattered stained-glass window. Lyra’s effort was frightening, to say the least.She had given Alexis a permanently shocked expression. Alexis hoped she didn’t actually look like that. Claire didn’t even try. She had only splashes of color streaked across her canvas. And Birdie… well damn, Alexis was left disappointed. It was obvious that bookstore-owner Birdie didn’t have an artistic bone in her body.
She swallowed her disappointment just as Vivian said, “And our last painting belongs to Bianca.”
Shit, thought Alexis.
