Hating Valentine's Day

I draw a bright red fake zit on the end of the bride's nose and, satisfied, sit back to admire my handiwork. Sally, who happens to be walking by at the time, stops behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Liv, sweetheart, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times.You're supposed to be taking them off, not putting them on."

"Yes, boss." I sigh and, without turning around, pick up the computer's pen once more and run it over the palette lying on the desk. I keep right on drawing on the picture that's up on the screen — the bride in her hotel room surrounded by a bevy of bridesmaids.This time I add a pair of horns over the bride's tiara and fangs over her newly whitened teeth. Still behind me, Sally leans over and takes the pen out of my hand. Within seconds, little red dots appear on the bride's eyes. I look up and laugh.

Sally goes over to lean up against the steel counter that runs the length of one of the studio walls. "Couldn't help myself.She was a particularly silly cow, remember?"

I don't remember. "I give it three years, max," Sally says, coming back over to take one last look. I glance up to see thre ... read full excerpt from: Hating Valentine's Day ebook