Chapter Five Hair Dye & Tattoos
“Where are you going?” Joel came out of the bedroom the next morning just as Quinn was grabbing the keys to her Porsche Cayenne. He had insisted she buy a Porsche when her twelve-year-old Kia died two years previously. She had to admit it was a lovely car, but he had been pissed when she went to a saleswoman the others had been bullying to go through with the sale. He didn't know that she sent everyone who asked about her car to Trina ever since.
“Out with Rilla. We have a girl's day planned, and then I'm meeting Tenn.” She smiled, grabbed the bags she was taking with her, and blew him a kiss. “Don't wait up.”
“What about dinner?” He asked, his eyebrows pulled down in confusion.
“Order a pizza.” She shrugged and stepped outside, with him quickly following her. “Or eat the leftover spaghetti.”
“You're breaking the Sunday dinner rule.”
“You were right. It was stupid.” She shrugged again as she opened the trunk and put the bags inside. She had started cooking Sunday dinner for them both when they got married, as Sunday was the one day they were guaranteed to have off together. When he had met Viki, he had started skipping them, and two weeks ago, he had walked in on her crying in bed. When he asked what was wrong, she had unloaded on him, telling him she was miserable and he clearly didn't want to be married anymore, so they should divorce. He had begged for a chance to prove her wrong, and she told him he had to prove he wanted to be with her or get out. She refused to tell him how to prove it, saying they had been married long enough that he should know what he needed to do and refused to give him a timeline because it had to be ongoing. If she felt he was slipping, she was out.
“That's not what I said!” Joel protested as he followed her around the car.
“You're right. You said it was ridiculous for a grown man to have to be home for dinner.” She threw his words back at him and got in her car. “Congratulations, you were right.” She closed the door and put down her window. “It wasn't right for me to expect my husband to spend a small part of the only day he knows for sure he has off with me. So go do whatever you want.” She pulled out of the driveway and waved cheerfully as she drove away.
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When she got to Rilla's, Quinn was greeted at the door by Rilla, who gave her a huge, tight hug before leading her down to the basement salon. She told Rilla what had happened in her meeting with Tenn and what they had decided to do.
“So, part of my plan is to suddenly give him lots of space, not complain about him disappearing for hours anymore while spending all kinds of time with Tenn, working on my project and looking fine as fuck while I'm doing it,” Quinn smirked as she shrugged off her sweater and hung it on the coat rack next to the door
“Well, let's get started, shall we?” Rilla grinned, pulling on her purple and pink swirled smock before starting to load up her tray with what she’d need to do Quinn's hair. “Are we sticking with the red?”
“Yeah, I think so, but let's add some orangey-yellow tones to the bottom and make it look like fire.” Quinn sat in the chair and spun to face the mirror. Rilla had been her hair stylist and esthetician since they became friends in university and had allowed her to practise on her when she went back to school for it. Rilla had always been obsessed with hair and makeup but had gotten her undergraduate degree in painting from Boston University to make her parents happy, which is where they met.
“Oooh. I like it.” Rilla started mixing the dye while Quinn told her about the dinner the night before and let her read the text exchange. “I can't believe the guy you've been trying to get in touch with is the husband of the woman your husband is cheating with.”
“Right? Small world.” Quinn snorted. “I was thinking I need some new clothes too.”
“Are we going with forties/fifties sexy? Because pinup Quinn is the hottest Quinn.” Rilla grinned at her.
“Then we have to go with that.” Quinn scrolled through her phone for a few minutes. “Is Bishop around? I want to talk to him about a new tattoo.”
Rilla nodded, her grin growing as she walked to the bottom of the stairs to get her husband; Joel hated tattoos. “Hey, Bishop, come down.”
Quinn grinned as her tattoo artist and twin brother's best friend entered the basement. “Hey, Q.” He smiled at her as he came over to kiss her cheek and give her a tight hug. “Rilla told me about Joel. We could knock him out and tattoo “cheater” on his forehead.”
“Or tattoo me.” Quinn laughed; there was a certain amount of appeal to what he was suggesting though.
“What'd ya have in mind?” He pulled up the rolling stool Rilla used when her back was sore and held out his hand as Quinn passed him her phone, which he studied for a few minutes.
“Obviously not that exactly, but something similar.”
“Where do you want it?”
“Coming down my shoulder and across my collarbone.”
“Give me a few minutes. We should be able to get it done while your hair sets.” He stood up and stretched before striding back up the stairs and into his garage/home studio he had for tattooing friends, leaving Quinn and Rilla to their conversation.
“So, what does the other woman look like?” Rilla asked curiously as she finished putting the foil in Quinn's long hair and got started freshening up the red and doing her roots.
“She's very pretty,” Quinn admitted. “Long blonde curls, icy blue eyes. Tall and slender, nice body, definitely Joel's type.”
“I can't believe he said you let yourself go. What a fucking prick. You got better.” The rage on Rilla’s face was justified. She’d never fully forgiven Joel for putting Quinn in the hospital.
“Yeah, that pissed me off. Apparently, he preferred me more when I was skin and bones.” Quinn studied her hands. She had battled with anorexia since she was twelve. Quill, Rilla, and Bishop had been the ones to step in after the last two relapses.
“Hey!” Rilla captured Quinn's chin and lifted her head so she was looking into her eyes. “Everyone else prefers curvy, sexy pinup Quinn. Right Bish?” She looked at the stairs as her husband came down again with a piece of paper in his hand.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Bishop jumped down the last few stairs and handed her the sketch of her tattoo for approval. “You know the offer to rejoin us is always on the table. We'd worship you like the goddess you are.” Rilla nodded eagerly next to him.
“One hundred percent.” Rilla winked.
“Aw, thanks, you guys, but it didn't work before, remember? We discovered how very monogamous I am.” Quinn laughed. She had gotten jealous of Bishop with Rilla, and of Rilla with Bishop, it was very confusing for her. They had been wonderful about it and insisted it could be worked on, but Quinn did not share well. “And I'm an attention whore in the sack.”
“That's true.” Rilla grinned. “Who would have thought the twin would have problems with sharing?”
“I had to share everything with him!” Quinn protested as she laughed. “I like having things that are just mine.”
“Speaking of Quill, have you told him yet?” Bishop nudged her shoulder and pointed at the drawing.
“I don't want him to go to prison for murder one, so no.” Quinn smiled in delight as she looked at the sketch of the sun, moon, and stars. “This is perfect, Bishop!”
“I'll go make the stencil, and Quill is on his way over.” He ducked out of the room quickly. Quinn sighed. They all went to university together. Rilla and Quinn were best friends, Bishop and Quill were best friends, and she and Quill had become inseparable after they reconnected, so they all hung out together all the time. They were all Art Majors but had gone in different directions with their pursuits. Bishop was an award-winning tattoo artist with a very expensive and popular shop in downtown Boston. Rilla was a hairdresser and nail technician who had just left the high-end salon she worked at over differences with the new manager. Quinn had gotten her the job on the resource desk at the library to tie her over until she figured out where she wanted to go. Quill had gone on to do his master's in architecture at the School of the Art Institute in Chicago, then opened an architecture firm in Boston and excelled, winning multiple awards and eventually expanding into real estate. Quinn had always been interested in the history of art and the various mediums. She had a few art shows, three showcasing her paintings, which sold reasonably well, and was now working on a show for her photography.
“Come on, or your hair will be done before your tattoo.” Rilla took her hand and led her upstairs. Quinn pulled her tank top and bra strap out of the way so Bishop could put the stencil on her shoulder. After confirming the positioning and size, she sat down while he got his needles and ink ready.
“When's Quill gonna get here?”
“About two minutes ago.” Quinn looked up as her tall, muscular brother walked into the garage. Everything about Quill Turner was precise, from his neat, close-cropped beard to his tousled light brown waves of hair that just touched his shoulders and matched her natural hair colour to the jeans and t-shirt that fit him perfectly. His eyes, the same shade of green as hers, were studying her face anxiously. “Are you okay?”
“What do you know?” Quinn narrowed her eyes at him; he was very concerned for someone who should be in the dark about things, and she wondered what Bishop told him. Since they all had independent friendships with one another, they usually respected each other's boundaries and right to share information with each other when they were ready. While she figured Rilla would tell Bishop about Joel, she would have been very surprised if Bishop told Quill before she got a chance to tell him herself.
“That you're getting your hair dyed and a new tattoo, so something's up?” He raised his eyebrow as he smiled at her but still looked concerned.
“Joel's cheating on me with the new receptionist at the dealership.” She watched him carefully. When Joel confessed he caused her last relapse, Quill had broken his nose and a rib and busted his lip up. He was very overprotective of her, and she was a little concerned about his reaction to the cheating.
“Excuse me.” Quill turned to leave the room, rage blooming on his face.
“Quill, stop, please.” Quinn chuckled and grabbed his arm. “Killing him won't fix it.”
“It'll make me feel better.” Quill rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “It's been a few years since I had to defend my sister's honour, but I'm up to it.”
Quinn laughed harder. “Come hold my hand, and I'll tell you what's going on and my plan.” Quill pulled up a chair and took her hand, letting her squeeze when Bishop ran the needles over her collarbone. When Quinn finished, he sat back and regarded her with a smirk.
“So basically, you're gonna make them think you and Tenn are cheating on them with each other and rub their noses in it.
“Exactly.” Quinn nodded. “Then when they lose their shit, we'll hand them the proof and kick 'em to the curb.”
“I like the revenge idea.” Quill nodded. “How are you doing otherwise?”
“Fine.” Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing he was just doing his thing and looking out for her. “I ate a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs last night, and I ate breakfast on my way here.”
“Good.” Quill let her hand go as Bishop finished the tattoo, cleaned it, and covered it so it wouldn't get infected. Quinn followed Rilla from the room to get her hair rinsed. When she was done, Quill came down and handed her his credit card. “New clothes are on me.” He turned and left before she could protest.
“He knows me so well.” Quinn chuckled, putting his credit card in her pocket. She would use his card for a couple of things, knowing he’d be insulted if she didn’t.
“Pretty sure that's because you guys practically share a brain.” Rilla grinned.
“Haha. Very funny. Come on, let's go shopping.”