TWELVE
CHAPTER
I went into work the next day at noon and Vivian told me Gus was already there, waiting for me.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Thanks, Viv,” I muttered. “That’s super helpful.”
She chucked me on the arm. “Go get’em, tiger.”
I stepped into the back office that was hardly bigger than a broom closet, and just as cluttered. A bank of five lockers lined one wall, and the desk practically barred access to the bathroom.
“I’m trying to retire, Theo,” Gus Monroe said, as I shut the door behind me.
He leaned back in his chair, kicked his cowboy boots on the desk and smoothed his long, handlebar mustache with two fingers.
A ponytail of thin brown hair hung over the shoulder of his plaid button-down.
He pinched a quarter inch of air between his thumb and index finger.
“I’m this close to Belize’s beaches for the rest of my life. I’m not trying to get back to inking.”
“It was an emergency,” I said. “I had to help a friend. She was in a bad way.”
“ She , huh?” Gus rolled his eyes. “For a chick you drop everything and take off for a week?” He shook his head. “Don’t let women lead you around by the balls, Fletcher. They do it once, they won’t ever stop.”
“Good advice,” I said, adding silently, From the guy who’s on his third marriage .
“Here’s another piece of advice: You take off like that again and I’m going to have to let you go. Can’t be helped.”
“It won’t. I promise.” A lie . I was thankful he wasn’t firing my ass but if Kacey ever needed me again, I was gone.
Can’t be helped, I thought and almost smiled.
Vivian poked her head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but she's here, Theo. Your brother’s…girlfriend?”
Kacey mentioned she might stop by, but the last fucking thing I wanted was Gus to figure out she was the reason I’d taken off for a week. I turned to go. “Thanks, Viv.”
“You just got back,” Gus said. “Now you're socializing on company time?”
“She’s a paying customer. She’s here to pick a design.”
He rolled his eyes. “Go.” Then leveled a finger at me. “But I’ll say it again, Fletcher. I love your work. You’re a talented artist. And having Inked sniffing around here for news about you isn’t exactly a bad thing. But no more taking off, you got me?”
“Loud and clear.”
I slipped out the door and shut it behind me. Kacey stood in the little waiting area, making small talk with Vivian. Her hands gripped opposite elbows, hugging herself tightly. She looked frail and nervous.
“Hey.” I came over to her. “You good?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling weakly. “Just…more memories.”
My stomach twisted around one of them—an ugly memory. The day Jonah and Kacey came here together was the day we had to admit Jonah was getting worse. The day that marked the beginning of his downhill slide.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you around.” I led her down to my station. The shop was slow that day, and both Zelda and Edgar were between clients.
“Guys, this is Kacey Dawson,” I said. “Kacey, that’s Edgar Morrello and Zelda Rossi.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Kacey said.
Zelda smiled and gave a small wave. “Hi.”
“Good to meet you, little lady,” Edgar said, in a warm, genuine, with no trace of a joke imbedded in it.
Kacey perched on the side of my chair, swinging her legs back and forth. She wore skinny jeans, black ankle boots, and an oversized Rocky Horror Picture Show T-shirt. Her hair was down, her makeup spare. She looked effortlessly sexy.
“Did they know Jonah?” she asked softly, with a backward nudge of her head. “I don’t remember them at the funeral. Then again, that day is all a blur.”
“They were there,” I said. “And I don’t remember much about the funeral either. I’ve dedicated the last six months to blocking it out.”
She smiled and a short silence fell between us.
“Do you know what you want yet?” I asked. “I owe you a tattoo.”
“I still haven’t decided.”
I jammed my hands into my jean pockets. “Maybe the glass that Jonah gave you? The universe orb?”
Dumb suggestion. You’d never capture it perfectly.
Beneath that thought, I hoped she’d say no. I didn’t want to use my art to render Jonah’s on her skin.
Kacey frowned and thought for a moment. “No. I don’t know what I’m supposed to get but that’s not it.”
“What you’re supposed to get?”
“Yeah, I have this weird feeling that it’s something specific. Something only you can create for me. But I don’t know what it is yet. It’ll come to me.” She looked up and laughed a little. “Maybe I need to pay Olivia the Fortune Teller five more dollars and let her tell me.”
I smiled, trying not to look too relieved. The heart wants what it wants. I think I read that somewhere. My heart, apparently, was a selfish asshole.
“Speaking of advice from the Other Side, have you thought about maybe buying this place?” Kacey asked. “Vivian was telling me your boss is on the verge of retirement. Maybe he wants to sell.”
I cleared my throat with a glance toward Zelda and Edgar. Thankfully, both were preoccupied with new clients.
“Hadn't thought about it. This place is pretty small and not really what I had in mind, in terms of style.” I leaned closer to her. “And it’s not exactly common knowledge around here that I’m looking to get my own shop.”
“Why not?”
I opened my mouth and then shut it again. “I don’t know. It’s just…not something I talk about.”
She arched her eyebrows.
I held up my hands. “What? I don't need a bunch of people knowing my business.”
“Aren’t they your friends?”
“I guess.”
“You don't like to talk much about yourself,” Kacey said, a smile lifting her sad expression to something warm. “In fact, I recall you hardly said two words to me when I first started seeing Jonah.” Now the smile stretched to a grin. “Strong, silent type.”
“I talk when I have something to say.”
She rested her chin on her shoulder. “I like that. I’m the exact opposite. I’ll miss talking to you when I go back to New Orleans.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
My heart sank into my guts. “So soon?”
She nodded. “Already bought the flight. I'm glad I came back, but I have responsibilities back there.” She smiled ruefully. “I’m trying really hard not to be a giant fuck-up anymore.”
I toyed with a chipped piece of wood on the armoire. “Think you’ll ever move back here?”
She sighed as her legs swung back and forth like two pendulums. “I honestly don't know, Teddy. I want to. I miss you and Beverly and everyone. But being here is really fucking hard.” Her shoulders rose and fell, a pained, sad shrug. “I’ll miss the hell out of you, but I think it’ll be easier to heal in a place where I don’t see him everywhere I turn. ”
I nodded. “I get it.”
“You guys are so brave. You live with the memories—a lifetime of memories—surrounding you. I’m not strong enough for that. Not right now.”
I tried not to let the crushing disappointment show on my face. “I get it, Kace. We all do.”
She smiled a little brighter then.
“You need a lift back to the hotel?” I asked.
“I have an Uber picking me up.”
“Mom wants dinner again tonight. With all of us.”
She nodded. “I'll tell them I’m not staying.”
“You sure you don’t want your tattoo while you’re here?”
She grinned. “I'm not going to get one in New Orleans, if that’s what you’re so worried about.” She reached around and tapped her right shoulder blade. “This spot is reserved for a Theo Fletcher original.”
A fierce desire rose to see that plot of her body she was saving for me, and I had to kill it quickly.
Kacey slid off the chair. “I should wait out front.”
We started walking toward the entry, every bone in my body screaming, Stay . Please stay.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“When you buy your own place, I’m the first customer.”
“That might be awhile.”
She stopped by the reception desk and stretched up to kiss my cheek. “I can wait.”
Her perfume filled my nose, and the whispered words sank into my skin and dropped straight into my groin. I stood there watching as she left the shop. Then my eyes noticed Gus, his arms crossed over his narrow chest, his expression 100% I-told-you-so.
“Uh huh,” he said. “By the balls, Fletcher. She has you by the balls.”
I wish, I thought.
“She’ll come back.” I picked up Viv’s Magic 8-Ball and gave it a shake.
Outlook good.
I shook my head as I set it down. I was becoming a chump. First Tarot cards, now stupid toys. But I smiled all the way back to my station and the smile hung around as I set up for my first client.
When little slivers of hope put in an appearance, you have to grab them and hold on. Give them a smile. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point?