“Sorry.” I resituate myself, bending one leg, and resting my other ankle on that knee.
“You’re fine.” Her voice is sweet, quiet and soft.
“Here for a tattoo?”
She seems surprised I’ve spoken again. She looks around, her gaze pointedly landing on the examples of tattoos done by the artists here, then a quick smile comes over her face. “Er, duh?”
I nod at a poster advertising piercings. “You could be here for that.”
She shudders. “No way.”
“Not even ears?” I turn my comment which could have been interpreted as lewd into something more innocent.
“Oh, I had those done years ago.” She relaxes a little, as if she had indeed thought I was being suggestive.
“So where are you having it? Your tat.”
Her mouth presses together. Then, she turns the tables. “What about you?” She gestures toward my arms already covered in colourful depictions of almost every design you can think of. “I can’t believe you have any more space.”
I place my hand over my heart. “I’ve got room here.”
“A woman’s name?” she takes a stab.
“Nah. Not found my one yet.” I don’t add, I’m not looking.
“Right, I’ll leave you with Jonah and he can settle you up. You’ve got your instructions about aftercare?” Vi’s voice reaches us. She drops her client off at the reception desk, then turns to the woman I’ve been speaking to.
“Shayla. Good to see you again. Sorry I overran. You want to come on back?” As she steps aside, she glances down at me. “You okay, Mace?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’m waiting on Liz.”
As the two women disappear, my eyes seem locked on Shayla’s ass. Bit skinnier than I’d normally like, but hell, the way her hips sway when she walks goes straight to my cock.
I flick through a magazine, help myself to a coffee in the back, stand and stretch, then study some of the work Liz produces. Hell, no wonder this place is doing well, he’s a fuckin’ ace artist. As for Vi, seems she’s just getting into her stride. Wouldn’t surprise me if she turned out even better. Jonah’s no slouch either. Hope Whale turns out as good.
“Hey Mace.” Liz puts in an appearance, jerking his head toward the back. When I approach him, he turns and leads the way into his office.
“I spoke to Shayla for a couple of minutes.”
“Yeah?” My statement has captured his interest. “What’s your impression?”
I’ve been thinking about that. “Jumpy, nervous. Of course, she might not enjoy anticipating needles going into her back.” The sound of Vi’s tattoo gun whirring reaches us. “Couldn’t tell much more than that.” Of course, I hadn’t been able to come straight out and ask her about the tattoo she didn’t know I knew she had. “Seems quiet in here today?”
“It’s Monday, Brother. Sometimes I wonder why we open at all. Don’t get much walk-in business. The hairdressers next door is closed, so we get no business from that.”
I nod. “How long is Vi going to be?”
“Depends on the tolerance of her client. She’s booked her in for a four-hour stretch. Fancy a smoke?”
I do. In deference to the clients rather than any citizen law, we step out the back. The sun is shining as I take out my cigarettes and pass him one. I flick my lighter, then cupping my hand around it, hold the flame to his, then to mine. I breathe in smoke, feeling the nicotine soaking into my lungs. I know I should give up and have been cutting down, but hey, a man’s allowed at least one vice. Hmm. Got a few more than that. Shit, riding my bike is dangerous for my health, but who the fuck cares? You only get one life, might as well enjoy it.
We stand and enjoy our cigarettes in a comfortable silence.
“Appreciate the company if I’m honest, Mace.”
I raise my chin in answer. “Can you take off? If Shayla’s going to be tied up with Vi for a spell, and this place is dead, we could go and get some lunch.”
“Don’t see why the fuck not.” He brightens and stubs out his cigarette in the receptacle provided for that purpose. “Let me just check with Jonah. If there’s been no sudden rush,” his mouth twists showing he doesn’t expect it, “want to go get tacos?”
“Yeah.” I could definitely eat, my sugar-filled breakfast already forgotten. I suspect Liz will suggest a food truck which has surprisingly good offerings.
Jonah’s good, so we go get ourselves fed. When we return, Vi’s at reception. She turns when we walk in.
“Shayla’s gone, but she’s coming back.” Unusual for the prez’s woman, she seems tense.
“You’re doing more work today?”
Vi shakes her head at Liz. “No, but she’s bringing a friend with her.” She inclines her head toward the back and stands. Following, I once again find myself in Liz’s office.
“So?” Liz queries as soon as the door is closed.
Vi looks at me, then her boss. “Her friend also has a tat she wants covered up.”
“More business,” Liz observes, while from the look on her face, I’m wondering whether there’s more to it than something which, on the face of it, doesn’t seem strange. We often get more clients from personal recommendations.
“She give you any info about this Major?” I throw in.
“No.” Vi’s lips press together. “She’s not very chatty. I did try and probe a little, asking if a relationship had gone sour. From her reaction, it certainly had, but she didn’t give me any details.”
“Is that usual?” I ask. “Do people normally shoot the shit while you’re working on them?”
Vi shrugs. “It depends. Some will hold a conversation to take their mind off what I’m doing, some get lost in the sensations. I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t read much into it.”
“What’s your view of her, Vi?”
Another rise and dip of her shoulders, and that worried little frown appears again. “She’s not from here, has recently moved to Pueblo, that much she did tell me. She found us online, came to us because of our reputation and good reviews.”
“She know the shop’s owned by the Satan’s Devils?”
“I think so, yes.”
A lot of nothing. Apart from some very acceptable tacos, on the surface, a wasted day for me. But Vi does seem unusually agitated.
“What are you worried about?” I ask her directly.
She shrugs again. “I don’t know, Mace. Something feels… wrong.”
There’s a knock and the door simultaneously opens to reveal Jonah. He jerks his head at Vi.
“Your client’s back. She’s got a friend with her.”
“Why that face, Jo?” Liz queries, having picked up something’s not right just as I have.
“If that girl’s eighteen, I’ll eat my fuckin’ socks,” Jonah tells us.
Lizard leans forward and starts banging his head on the desk.
“If she’s got a parent’s consent, she can get a tattoo done. No lower age limit in Colorado with permission,” I remind Liz.
He points up to the list of the shop’s rules on the wall. No tattoos under the age of 18. Yeah, we set our own requirements. I know Liz’s reasoning, should someone point the finger at us, all those parental permissions are just one more set of paperwork he needs to have and keep straight.