38. Cisco
Cisco
“So, you’re only offering these designs here?” Tiny held up a laminated paper with twenty-something designs on it.
Cisco nodded, wrestling with a portable chair he bought for this reason. “Yeah. Nothing else. Those don’t take much ink and will probably take me ten minutes to finish. Charge forty dollars per design.”
Tiny saluted him, laying the paper down on the folding table.
Their booth size wasn’t huge, but it was big enough for them to work comfortably.
Together, they had put up a black canopy with a fabric wall around three sides.
The top of the canopy read Golden City Tattoos in bold golden letters.
He bought it a year ago when he was asked to attend a tattoo expo as a featured artist. He had nearly forgotten about it until Tiny hauled it out of the shop this morning.
Even though the fundraiser was not set to begin for another thirty minutes, already a few people trickled in, checking out the booths setting up.
The slight breeze in the air carried the smell of Cajun spices and fried funnel cakes.
If he hadn’t picked up breakfast sandwiches this morning, he’d be lining up outside the Cajun food truck right now. He still might later.
“Do you think they have a coffee truck?” Tiny asked.
Cisco didn’t quite remember everything he blocked off yesterday from Marisol’s list, but he vaguely remembered a coffee truck. “I think so. You can check before it gets busy.”
Tiny pushed herself up from her chair, stretching. “Do you want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He barely got the words out before Tiny left. Off to get her sugary caramel latte, or whatever overly sweet concoction she drank these days. It changed every few months.
Cisco checked his phone again. Marisol still hadn’t replied, but she hearted the message. She’d find him later, once everything kicked off. She was with friends, so she had people to lean on if she needed the help.
Yesterday, he didn’t get to fully appreciate the event, too busy getting everything set up. It was one thing to mark off spots and an entirely different thing seeing it with the vendors in place. It was quite the production, and it was only possible because of Marisol.
She was a damn good event planner. If she ever decided to do this full-time, Cisco could imagine her being fully booked .
After much struggling, Cisco finally got his damn chair unfolded and set up properly. He was just about to bring over his tray of equipment when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. “Good morning, son.”
Cisco turned in time to see a well-dressed Travis Roberts approaching his booth.
He wore what Cisco would consider golfing attire, which was probably exactly where he’d be going after this event.
Marisol had mentioned her father coming and not just because he had a booth here too.
He was pleasantly surprised to see him alone, so at least he was honoring his daughter's wishes.
The last time he saw Travis was when he picked him up from his holding cell.
It wasn’t exactly how he pictured his relationship with his girlfriend’s father going, but here they were.
He held no ill will toward the man, even if he had been a bystander in Marisol’s suffering. It was evident he loved his daughter.
“Mr. Roberts?—”
“Please,” he said, holding up a hand. “Call me Travis. So, this is your booth, huh? I’m sure it will gain a lot of attention.”
“That’s the goal.” Cisco eyed Travis, unsure what provoked this visit. The man stared down at the tattoo designs on the table, tracing a few with his finger.
Travis looked up, pursing his lips. He took a moment, as if gathering his words. Cisco didn’t push him, letting his curiosity simmer. Finally, Travis seemed to find the words—or courage—for what he was about to say. “I heard about the deal falling through with the building next to mine.”
Out of everything Cisco expected him to say, that wasn’t it.
He wasn’t sure how Travis would hear that information, but, frankly, he didn’t care enough to know.
“Oh, yeah. Sucks, but I’ll find somewhere else.
” It more than sucked, but he’d find another location.
Hopefully one that was as heavily populated as that area.
“Do you still want it?” Travis asked.
Cisco stared at Travis as if he just sprouted another head.
What was this man getting at? “If that were still an option, yes.” Of course he’d want that property.
The location was perfect, and he’d be bringing in new clientele.
He didn’t give a damn if the seller was an elitist piece of shit who cared only about their image.
Cisco would have enjoyed proving him wrong about “guys like him.”
Travis reached for something in his pocket, pulling out a small stack of folded papers. “Well, losing the property wasn’t your fault. I can’t in good conscience let something my family inadvertently caused be the reason you don’t receive the property for your business.”
“What are you saying, Travis?” He didn’t like riddles, and his brain didn’t have the energy this morning to figure out what he was saying.
Instead of answering, Travis handed over the folded papers.
Cisco eyed them curiously before taking them.
He unfolded the papers and scanned the contents.
At first he had no idea what he was looking at, but then words like “seller,” “deed,” and “property” all stood out to him.
His name was on the document, along with the address of the property he wanted.
“Is this…?”
“It’s not official,” Travis said quickly. “But I took the liberty of reaching out to my agent, who got in touch with yours and the seller, and, well…” He gestured to the papers Cisco was holding. “It’s yours if you want it. Just need to call your agent to get the process in motion.”
“Are you serious?” Cisco found himself asking. He didn’t know how to think about Travis orchestrating all of this without his knowledge, but at the same time, he could appreciate the gesture. This property was something he wanted. And badly.
“Yes.” Travis nodded. “I can’t apologize enough for how things ended at my event. How you’ve been the only one who has made my daughter this happy. Truthfully, I owe you a lot more than this, but I hope this is a start.”
It wasn’t often he was rendered speechless, but this was one of those rare times. He had many thoughts rushing through his mind but couldn’t find the words to vocalize everything. So, he settled on something simple. “Thank you.”
Travis just smiled. “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck today. I might be back around, but I can’t promise I’ll be getting a tattoo.” He laughed.
“Well, if you do decide, I promise I won’t make it hurt that bad,” he teased.
Travis laughed. A full belly laugh. “Good to know, son. Good to know.” And then he was gone, leaving Cisco with the documents for his future shop.
“What are those?” Tiny appeared seemingly out of nowhere with the biggest iced coffee he had ever seen. She sipped on the black straw, gesturing to the papers.
“These, prima, are what will get me that shop down in San Francisco.” He beamed, the excitement for his future finally settling in.
“Oh shit, congratulations.” She grinned, holding up her hand for a high-five. “I call helping with decor. You need it.”
“And what’s wrong with my decor?”
“Nothing, if you’re a teenager rebelling against your parents for making you do homework.” She shrugged. “Don’t think that is the vibe we are going for. Also, there’s a shit ton of people already here. You ready to go?”
He was. As ready as he could be. Still no signs of Marisol, but he sent her another quick text telling her to stop by when she got a chance.
As soon as he pocketed his phone and filed away the papers Travis dropped off, his first customer arrived, an eighteen-year-old kid who wanted one of the skull designs on Cisco’s list. Tiny made him sign the waiver and took his money before sending him back to Cisco’s chair.
Thankfully, the chair was constructed correctly and didn’t crash under the guy's weight.
So, Cisco started tattooing.
The eighteen-year-old was the first of many. Thank goodness for Tiny and her ability to manage a list because he would not have been as organized or timely as she was. By the end of the first hour, he had already completed six tattoos, but the list never seemed to shorten.
“Hey, Bossman, how do you feel about me scheduling appointments for the shop? I just got asked that question,” Tiny called from behind him.
“That’s fine. You have my schedule?” he asked, finishing up the final touches of the moon tattoo he was doing.
Tiny scoffed, and although he couldn’t see it, she probably rolled her eyes at him. Right. Dumb question. She managed his schedule and probably had it saved in multiple places.
When he finished with his client, he scooted back on his chair and went to get water from the cooler they brought.
It felt good to stretch his back and stand after hunching over another person.
He definitely was getting old because, in his early twenties, he could tattoo for an entire day, hunched over someone, and not feel a damn thing.
When he turned back toward his chair, he was no longer alone with Tiny.
At the table stood three people, and Marisol stood in the center.
Her sister, Lola, was on one side, with her brother-in-law on the other.
Her expression confused him. She was smiling, but her eyes were red-rimmed. She had clearly been crying.
Before he could ask, Marisol pushed past her brother-in-law and around the table, going straight for Cisco. He managed to move his legs, meeting her halfway until she collapsed in his arms, clinging to his shirt. She was laughing? No…crying. No…both?
“Princesa?” He rubbed her back soothingly. “What happened? Is something wrong?” He looked past her at Lola and Javi. Lola only offered him a smile as she leaned against her husband.
Her sister didn’t seem concerned, so maybe that was a good thing.
“You gotta tell me what’s going on before I think it’s something I did,” Cisco said.
This time Marisol did laugh as she pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come here sooner. I had a phone call. And then Antonio needed help setting up the pet area.”
“A phone call?” he asked, raising a brow. “What happened?”
“Oh nothing,” she said coyly, a giggle leaving her lips. She was practically bouncing in his arms. “Just that I’m finally a divorced woman. Archie signed the papers!”
Today was the day when the Roberts family rendered him speechless.
But it only lasted for a few seconds before he said, “Fucking finally.” He cupped her face and kissed her with heat.
He didn’t care that Tiny or Marisol’s sister and brother-in-law were watching.
All that mattered was Marisol and her freedom from Archie. Their freedom from that bastard.
Only because he didn’t need Tiny quitting on him today, he forced himself to break the kiss. The radiant smile, one free of all inhibitions, made Marisol the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on.
“Divorce looks good on you, Princesa,” he hummed, earning himself a giggle.
“It really does. You look so happy, Marisol. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before,” Lola said.
“Well, I have a lot to be happy for.” Marisol looked straight at Cisco when she spoke.
He fucking loved this woman. More than he ever loved anyone in his life. She was divorced now, but she wouldn’t be a single woman for much longer. Not if he got his way.
“You’re divorced and organized an amazing fundraiser. How does it feel?” Cisco asked, aware that his next client was probably waiting somewhere nearby.
“It is going well, isn’t it?” For the first time, Cisco thought he saw pride for herself shine in her eyes. “Stella has cried twice with how well things are going. She’s already getting excited for next year.”
“Cisco, not to hurry this along, but you’re going to want to take your next client soon. The list isn’t getting any shorter,” Tiny said and then awkwardly waved at Marisol. “Hi. Great fundraiser. Coffee is ten out of ten.”
“Thanks.” Marisol laughed. “I should get going. I want to make sure everything is running smoothly, but I had to see you. I needed you to know. Plus, I missed you.”
“After this, you and I are going to celebrate. I’m thinking a weekend trip. I don’t care where we go as long as it’s just us,” Cisco said .
“Deal,” Marisol said, leaning up to give him one last kiss. “I love you. I’ll stop by when it’s over. You’ll save the last tattoo for me, yeah?”
“Princesa, I will save every tattoo for you. You’re my perfect canvas.” And she was. If he was lucky, then she’d be his final masterpiece.
His greatest love.