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“With what?”
He pantomimes turning a beach ball in his hands—that or milking a giant cow. “Help getting upside down. So you can see it.”
I blink. “You can do that?”
He flexes his bicep. “What, you don’t think I’m strong enough?”
“It’s not that…”
He walks up to me. “Enjoy.” He grabs me around my knees with one arm and around my midsection with the other, and then, without any effort, he’s got me upside down, dangling like an idiot.
“What do you think?” He lifts me up a little and points me at the painting. “Can you see the secret image?”
Hmm. The melty face looks more like a face, and there’s a spider on her cheek, but I could’ve seen that standing upright. I just didn’t get the chance.
“What are you doing?” someone demands.
Evan turns, allowing me to see one of the security people—a lady who strongly resembles a Brussels Griffon.
“I’m just looking at the painting upside down,” I explain matter-of-factly.
The Brussels Griffon frowns. “Why?”
“This is a special painting,” I explain.
“No. It’s not.”
Evan chuckles.
Glaring up at him, I demand that he put me down, which he does and starts cracking up in earnest.
“Please behave with some decorum from now on,” the Griffon says sternly.
“Sorry,” Evan says. “She will.”
The Griffon leaves.
I glare at Evan. “Not cool.”
“I told you I’d get you,” he says with a smirk. “And I did.”
“Whatever.”
He chuckles again. “You realize you could’ve taken a picture of the painting and turned that upside down.”
I punch him in the shoulder and walk over to check out more paintings. Soon, we run out of art to gawk at, so we go outside and get lost in a hedge maze—and kiss when we find the center, though Evan keeps it PG this time on account of the voices of children nearby.
“Where to now?” I ask when we exit the maze.
He shrugs. “Want to check out downtown?”
I do, so we head there before touring a gallery, followed by dinner and a walk on the beach.
“The sunsets are gorgeous here,” Evan says. “The sun sets into the ocean.”
“Yes, yes,” I say mockingly. “This is the most romantic date of my life as is. Now you’re just overselling it.”
Wait, can I call it a date with the whole ‘no labels’ business still in play?
