I Do I Did

Thirty Nine

"I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want me to go." Patrick whined as stroked the brush against the canvas.

"Well, that's too bad. Because I don't want to let you out of my sight. Ever."

Today was the day of Meagan's appointment. They were going to hear the baby's heart beat again. They could be finding out what she was having, but they still wanted that to be a surprise.

Pete usually wouldn't be taking Patrick with him to something like this. But he'd been afraid to leave him alone since Andy cornered him in the bathroom of that restaurant. They filled out a police report to get the restraining order taken care of. Patrick told the investigator about Andy practically admitting to the car sabotage. Now he was a wanted man. And not in the good way.

"I'm a grown man, Pete. I can take care of myself." He resisted the urge to stomp his foot like a child. Because that would completely ruin the point he was trying to make.

"No offense." Pete eyed the screen of his laptop intently as he typed. "But Andy is way stronger than you. He could easily overpower you."

"But I don't want to he in a room with her. She hates me."

"Well, it's a good thing she can't beat you up." He joked.

Pete adjusted his tie and smiled at his screen. Patrick paused his painting and glanced at himself in the long, thin mirror in Pete's office. He frowned at his floral button up and jeans. His glasses and hat added to the feminine look. And his shiny Prada shoes topped it all off. He looked like a wimp. Maybe she could beat him up.

He dipped his brush into the paint again. "You were right." He sighed.

"I know. But about what in particular this time?"

"I dress like a bottom."

Pete's deep laugh filled the room.

"The way you dress is cute."

"Well, then I dress like a cute bottom."

"You also have a cute bottom."

"I'm serious!" He swung his arms in annoyance. A blob of blue paint flew past Pete's head. Hitting the glass window behind him.

"You're destroying my office with your paint!"

"I told you to let me paint in one of the spare rooms."

"I can't look after you in one of the spare-"

"Then stop complaining."

Patrick swung the brush again without thinking. This time the bright blue landed on top of Pete's desk. Staining the top of a stack of papers.

Pete stared at the spot on the paper for a few minutes. Deciding whether or not he should be angry. They were extremely important papers. But he could easily get Ryan to send in new copies. He lifted the top sheet up. Rolling his eyes when he realized the paint bled through a few sheets. He groaned.

Patrick jumped at the unsuspecting sound. The paintbrush fell from his fingers and clattered to the ground. Causing more of the blue paint to splatter around the floor.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Pete snapped. Standing up and rushing over to inspect the damage the paint did. "I just got the floors cleaned!"

"I'm so sorry."

Patrick dropped to his knees in a wasteful attempt to clean it up. But all he was doing was making it worse. Spreading the cerulean shade wider around the floor with his hand.