“It’s not funny, Christos,” Tiffany pouted.
I snickered, “It kind of is.”
A wheezy chuckle broke from Brandon.
Tiffany glared at him.
“Sorry,” he laughed, “sorry.” He turned away politely, trying to get a grip on himself.
I was grinning ear to ear. “The technique is flawless. I didn’t even notice it at first. Blends in perfectly with my oils.” Had Samantha done this? Man, I sure hoped so. Someone needed to knock Tiff down a notch.
Tiffany gave me a pouting, pleading look. The momentum had turned against her. She knew she’d dulled her Angry Sword from overuse, so she switched weapons. That girl could drum up tears faster than a baby. It was amazing to watch her in action, but I knew better.
“It’s ruined,” she sobbed. “My painting is ruined!”
I gave her a gimme-a-break eye roll that I’d used on her a thousand times over the years.
It didn’t help.
Nothing would, until Tiffany somehow got her way.
“Hey,” Samantha said from the doorway.
Romeo, Kamiko, Madison, and just about everyone else on board stood behind them.
Great, now Tiffany had an audience. I couldn’t escape the feeling she’d orchestrated this entire scene. Maybe she had defaced the painting herself, just to get my attention.
I gave Samantha a look and silently mouthed the words, “Did you do this?”
A guilty looked strained Samantha’s face. I smiled a big grin at her and nodded approval behind Tiffany’s back.
Then I noticed Romeo biting his lower lip. He looked guilty as fuck, too. I liked the guy better and better.
“I’m sorry,” Romeo apologized. “It was my fault.”
Tiffany snarled at him, but I detected a hint of disappointment in her eyes. Like she wanted it to be Samantha.
Romeo pulled a marker out of his pocket and held it up.
Yeah, Tiffany’s disappointment was obvious. She was such a drama queen.
“I did it too,” Samantha said.
Tiffany’s eyes shot wide. “You what?!” She lunged at Samantha, but I grabbed her, holding her back.
“It’s water-based ink!” Romeo hollered defensively. “It should come right off!”
Tiffany lunged again, but I had a good grip on her. “Easy, Tiff. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” To Romeo, I said, “Let me see that pen.”
He handed it to me. I read the label. I’d used these pens before. They totally came off.
Tiffany was shaking with fury. I still had one hand clamped around her arm.
“Calm down, Tiffany,” I encouraged. “The painting is sealed with varnish. It’ll be fine.” To Brandon, “Hold her for me, would you?” I said, referring to Tiffany.
He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but that was it. With any luck, she wouldn’t pounce at Samantha like a jungle cat the moment I turned my back.
I slid my boots off and carefully stepped onto the bed. I licked my thumb and rubbed at the mustache. The water soluble ink instantly smeared. “See? It totally comes off. Someone get some tissues and a glass of water. I’ll clean it up right now.”
“I’ll get it,” Romeo said, guilt tinging his voice. He squeezed past several people into the cabin’s bathroom and returned a minute later with a glass of water and toilet tissue.
“Thanks, man,” I said.
For whatever reason, maybe because all eyes were not on her, Tiffany started bawling again. One of her leggy minions ran to her. “It’s okay, Tiffany.” She wrapped her arms around Tiffany.
Tiffany fell into the embrace and wept like an alligator. I knew she was still totally pissed at Samantha, but I also sensed she had other plans brewing behind her false bawling. Tiffany always had other plans.
Romeo flashed a nervous smile and stepped away while I went to work. I dipped, dabbed, and wiped with the wet tissue. In a minute, the painting was spotless. “See, Tiffany? It’s fine.”
She pursed her lips while she removed her heels. She climbed onto the bed and huffed. Hands on hips, she leaned toward the painting, her nose inches from the canvas. “I can still see black ink.”
“Where?” I asked skeptically. I hadn’t missed any.
“Here!” She stabbed her finger toward the painting.
I leaned forward, and wiped at it, just in case.
“It’s still there!” she cried, pointing dramatically, as if identifying a suspected murderer in the courtroom.
“What?” I peered closely. “That’s nothing, Tiffany. It’s just a shadow from the brushwork, beneath the varnish.”
“No, it’s not!” She had no idea what she was talking about.
“Yes. It is. I remember painting it.” I stepped calmly off the bed and stood with my hands resting casually on my hips.
Tiffany looked around at everyone.
Nobody seemed very sympathetic, from what I could tell.
Tiffany knew she was losing her audience. “It’s not okay!” she stomped once, still on top of the bed like it was her own personal pulpit, then folded her arms across her chest defiantly. “And I want my money back!”
Brandon flashed me a worried look.
“This simply won’t do!” Tiffany huffed. “I’m telling Daddy first thing in the morning! How do you think he’ll react, Brandon, when he finds out there’s graffiti all over my painting? Hmmm? It’s ruined!” Barefoot, she stomped off the bed and out of the cabin.
I sat down on the mattress and slid my boots on, one at a time. Time for a fight. Too bad it wasn’t the easy kind, with knuckles and knees.
This was turning into a royal pain in my ass.
CHRISTOS
“We should deal with this,” Brandon said in front of everybody, “before it gets any worse.”
“You sure you don’t want to let her cool off,” I suggested. “She’s still loaded. Maybe you can smooth-talk her tomorrow.”
“I’d like to spend my New Year’s day doing something other than handling fallout from Tiffany’s asinine antics.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Excuse me, everyone,” Brandon said as he squirmed through the gawking crowd.
He followed Tiffany up the stairs. “Tiffany, wait!”
I raised my eyebrows at Samantha. “Sorry. Duty calls.”
Samantha gave a compassionate sigh. “I’m so sorry Christos. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Me too,” Romeo moped. “I’m totally sorry, C-Man.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” I smiled. “The painting is fine. Tiffany needs a reality check now and then. Too bad she gets less than one a decade. I owe you guys.”
“You sure?” Samantha asked plaintively.
I could tell she felt terrible. “Don’t worry, agápi mou,” I reassured. “No sense letting the drama llama ruin your evening any more than she already has.”
“She does kind of look like a llama,” Romeo said thoughtfully.
Samantha struggled not to smile too widely in front of Tiffany’s remaining sorority friends.
“All right,” I said, “I’ll be upstairs with Brandon, tending to Bitching Beauty.”
When I went upstairs and saw Tiffany talking to Brandon in the living room portion of the main cabin, she took one look at me and bee-lined out to the back deck.
Brandon followed her.
I sighed. I knew this game. She played it all the time. The “follow me” game. I trudged out to the back deck, but she left Brandon and continued around the walkway to the bow of the ship.
“I think it’s yours from here,” Brandon said sympathetically. “My attempts to placate her were met with resolute pouting.”
“Great. Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”
I strolled around to the front of the ship.
Tiffany stood with her back to me, arms folded. I could tell she was fuming because she hadn’t gotten her way.
I paused for a moment, shaking my head. This girl was a woman-sized baby. Her dad had made her into so much of a princess, demanding things was the only way she knew how to operate.
“Tiffany, the painting’s fine.”
She whipped around to face me. “No it’s not Christos. Nothing’s fine. Your girlfriend is ruining everything.”
What the hell was she talking about? “Nothing’s ruined, Tiffany.”