Chapter 5
Jensen
Tattoos by Marx
Going to have to cancel our interview today. Spot filled.
Loca Tattoos
Hi, we have decided, in light of current information, we will no longer be moving forward with our interview today.
Ink Envy
Thank you for your interest in our shop, but we’re currently not taking on any new artists.
“I’m going to lose it, really, I think I just might lose my actual shit.
” I stare at the three messages that have all come through this morning.
How in the hell do I get three rejections back-to-back?
I just sent inquiries for these shops yesterday.
Not to mention, Ink Envy literally just posted they were looking to add another person to their store.
“What does the second one mean by ‘current information’?” My sister Stella huffs over the line. I sent her the screenshot of each message, then called her, ready to rant the moment she answered.
“Hell if I know. The only clear thing about their messages is that they don’t want me. The last one freaking posted on their Instagram story yesterday that they were looking to add another person. I filled out their request form within an hour of them posting.”
“See, that feels weird to me,” Stella hums softly. “I just keep rereading them all and something isn’t sitting right in my gut.”
“Not sitting right with you? My rent’s been raised an extra eight hundred dollars. My gut is in knots and my face is breaking out from stress.” I fall back on my bed with a huff. “Maybe I should just move back home.”
“No! Have you lost your mind? After everything we went—”
“We?”
“Oh, yes, we! If it wasn’t for me, you’d be miserable playing Suzie Homemaker with one, if not two babies, and more on the way. Rent, we can figure out. No place hiring, fixable. But so help me, I’ll rip out your nipple piercings if you step foot in the same city as him.”
“Ow, Christ’s sake, Stella.” I wrap my arms protectively around my boobs. Just the thought makes me cringe. “And people think I’m the aggressive sister.”
“You’re outwardly aggressive, but soft on the inside. I, however, am a narcissist’s worst nightmare. I look gullible, but hard on the inside.”
I snort a laugh. “That sounds wrong.”
“Well, it’s true! I may be just a girl who loves bright colors and frilly dresses, but I take no bullshit, and neither should you. You’re incredible at what you do! Anyone would be lucky to hire you!”
My internal groan is definitely shown on my face, but thankfully this isn’t FaceTime, or else I’d be hearing Stella’s power speech she says when she wants to hype herself up.
“It’s not that I’m taking anyone’s shit, more I just want to live the life I came here to live. I didn’t think it would be easy but after all of Hank’s shit, following Travis’s…I wouldn’t mind one thing to not be so complicated.”
“Oh, Jennie, that’s too much to ask for,” Stella says in the most sweet and sarcastic tone. “Remember my adoption process? There was practically no one to contest it and we still had issues.”
That one hits me in the chest. After losing her mom and younger brother during childbirth, Stella’s dad essentially gave up on taking care of her. The adoption may have officially made her my sister, but our moms raised us that way from the start.
The loss of Stella’s mom and brother affected all of us, and for a while we all went to therapy.
My mom lost her best friend. I developed a horrible phobia of pregnancy.
My dad practically forced Stella’s dad to every session, but ultimately Dad stopped forcing him and put all his energy into Stella.
“You’re right, thanks for the perspective reminder.”
“You know, I just imagine if you had a little angel and devil on your shoulders that they would look like me. It’s not your own subconscious, it’s me in there.”
I try to stifle my laugh. “That checks out, honestly. Here I am calling you, angry at the world, and you’ve taken me on a full trip of pep talks, humbling me and giving me a reality check.”
Stella hums. “I did do all that, didn’t I? I didn’t even bring out my tarot cards yet, let me get those!”
“No!” I yell, shooting up off my bed. “I feel better, please save those for next time. I’ve had you be my la angelita y la diablita, Stella, save bruja Stella for another day.”
The silence tells me that she’s not super happy about it, but she sighs. “Fine. Next phone call, though.”
“Deal.” Thank goodness.
“Even though I think they would be a super great tool to help process these messages a little bit more—”
“Stella.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll go off my intuition alone.
I definitely think there’s something going on with those messages.
Three in a row is crazy enough, but you said things didn’t go over well when you turned down Tally’s offer to work there.
Do you think…possibly…” Stella trails off with what I’ve already suspected but don’t want to believe.
“It seems highly probable. Ugh,” I groan. “I’m going to have to go down there, aren’t I?”
“You’ve stepped over Hank’s shit enough, sis. I think it’s about time it came to a head. Shall I start my ‘you’re an absolute badass’ pep talk?”
My laugh comes again. “As good of a speech as it is, I’m gonna have to pass. Everyone’s back from Los Angeles now, so we’re having a celebratory dinner at Dex and Lucie’s house tonight. I’ll go by Tally’s before, and at least there’ll be a possibility that a drink will greet me after.”
“I love how you’re so casual about this. ‘Oh, my friends are back from Los Angeles,’ like they’re not pro baseball players who just won the World Series. I still can’t believe you didn’t go.”
“You know why I couldn’t go, Stel. I thought you would be proud of me for not going. With you-know-who in mind, a relationship is not currently in the five-year plan we mapped out.”
“Oh, the plan.” My sister all but gags. “I still can’t look at a Red Bull without feeling queasy.”
I, however, smile at the memory. I was mid-crash out following the aftermath of breaking up with Travis, but then Stella busted in my room with a pack of Red Bulls, a fresh journal, and yes, her tarot cards.
“It’s just…” she continues on, “that would have been a freaking bucket list opportunity. But I get why you said no, I do. I’m proud of you, I guess.”
“Clearly,” I huff out as Dottie puts her front paws on my bed with a whine. “Alright, I gotta take Dottie out. I’ll let you know what happens with Hank.”
“Okay, I’ll be sure to accept any collect calls from jail. Not that I’ll be close to pick you up, but still.”
I push off my bed with a smile. “Excuse me, I’m not the one with a record.”
“It was one time! One little shoplifting incident! I have a big girl job where I clean up other people’s scandals, and yet my one fuck up from nearly ten years ago is still brought up! Will I ever live that down?”
“Nope, sorry, Stel, it’s just too funny. I’ll let you know how it goes at Tally’s.”
Stella snorts. “Don’t worry, I’ll have my tarot cards charged up and we can make any adjustments to the plan if we need.”
I can barely fake excitement with a dragged out, “Greeeeat.”
“You’re welcome in advance. Love you, byeeee.”
I find a smile. “Love you, bye.”
Putting Dottie’s leash on, I grab my coat and we head down the stairs.
Hey you there alone today?
Blake
Yeah and we need to talk.
Glad we’re on the same page. On my way.
After walking Dottie around the block a few times, I run her back upstairs and give her two of her favorite treats. “Sorry, I know that wasn’t much of a walk, but I’ll be back.”
Hopefully. I could have Lucie coming to get Dottie while someone else bails me out of jail.
I exhale what I can of my frustration—maybe it’s not that bad. I know leaving Tally’s was the right move to make, and whatever dick move Hank is playing I should be able to put an end to. Granted, my only play seems to be telling his wife everything he’s done in heavy detail.
The chime to the front door rings as I walk in. Trusting Blake’s word, I don’t bother worrying about someone else being here and head straight for the back.
“Blake?” I call, walking farther in the shop.
“Back here, Jen, I’m just finishing up,” Blake hollers back.
Walking through the curtains, I find Blake at his station wrapping up a girl’s arm with plastic wrap.
“Okay, keep that on until you get home, and here’s the printout going over the aftercare instructions we discussed.”
The girl blushes as she looks down at Blake’s hands taping off the wrap. “Great, and if I have any questions, I can call…” She trails off, clearly hoping he finishes with his number.
I partly understand her blush and interest to some extent—Blake isn’t exactly bad to look at, and from what I’ve come to know, he’s not a douchebag.
I personally have zero interest because he’s not a redhead who plays first base for the Blues, doesn’t give me cheesy nicknames, and doesn’t follow me around like he’s obsessed with me.
Good god.
“You can call the shop if you want,” Blake says, completely oblivious to her intentions.
“Great, thank you.” The girl feigns a smile and starts to walk out with a shake of her head.
“You’re welcome, have a great rest of your day,” Blake says, still not picking up any vibes. He looks to me and waves. “Hey, come on in, we can talk while I clean up.”
I look back to make sure the girl is out of earshot before speaking. “You know she was asking for your number, right?”
Blake lifts an eyebrow as he sprays his chair down. “No, what does she need that for?”
Ugh, men.
“Are you serious? She was asking for your number so you could go out. You know, like, date, and other fun things.”
Blake tears off a paper towel then stops as he processes what I said. “Well, even if I did actually realize what she was asking, I wouldn’t have given it to her. I don’t mix business with pleasure. Anything involving this place is strictly business.”
“That’s fair. Speaking of, does your ‘need to talk’ text have any links to my three rejection messages from tattoo shops this morning?”