One of the things that continued to amaze him was the vast array of people that came in. Some were so modest he needed a penlight to do the work so they could remain covered, and some just didn’t care in the least. Cesar got the ones that modesty forgot.
“I’ve got a few appointments, you?”
“Yeah, maybe four more today.”
Ben nodded. “Cool, I’ll catch you on the downtime.” He went back out to the waiting room and busied himself with the day-to-day details that Cesar found too boring to deal with. The routine grounded him. Ordering in the special inks they needed for an expo, their standard colors, office supplies and cleaners. They couldn’t trust anyone else but themselves when it came to keeping a clean shop.
The people in his business were fastidious for a reason and those that weren’t didn’t have any right to hold a tattoo gun. Disgusted that everything in his brain headed into negativity, he opened his sketchbook. That was one thing he and Cesar would always agree on. Sketch through the shitty days.
His evening picked up with a few walk-ins that he shared with Cesar. The newly of-age kid he’d been set to meet up with couldn’t make it. Which was probably a good thing. He didn’t have the patience to handhold and talk the kid out of getting a dinner-plate-sized skull on his back tonight.
He kneaded his fingertips into the tight muscles at the base of his neck and flipped to a fresh page in his notebook.
“You know, if you wanna talk about it or some shit, I can.”
Ben looked up at Cesar. His friend rubbed at the severe fade that stacked up the back of his head. “Anyone as twisted up as you are has chick problems. I suck at chick problems, but I can—you know, listen.”
He laughed for the first time in days. A week and a half without Darcy and he was a fucking head case. Cesar was so uncomfortable Ben was pretty sure the bottle of whiskey under the counter was going to come out next. When in doubt, get drunk. That was his friend’s motto.
“I’ve been that bad?”
“Maybe.”
Ben stood, slapped his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks, Cee. I’m good. I thought I found someone, but it turned out to be a bit of a clusterfuck. Shit happens.”
“Was she hot?” Cesar folded his arms over his massive chest.
“Yeah. She’s that chilly kind of hot that warms up when she smiles.”
“Tall?”
Ben frowned. “Yeah, actually. Almost six-feet tall. Why?”
“Hot chick at
your six, bro.”
Ben turned around. Darcy stood in the doorway of his shop. All the air in his lungs stalled, then backed up. He rubbed at the burning knot under his breastbone.
She had a blood-red hip-length coat on today. Her hair was windblown. Actually, a little on the wild side for Darcy. She stalked forward. “You took down the lights.”
Ben lifted his chin. He didn’t have to answer to her. “Yes, I did. You hate them.”
She crossed her arms. “I told you to leave them.”
“They’re my lights. And I wanted to take them down.”
The coat billowed behind her as she came down the three stairs to their lounge area. “You love those lights.”
Ben stood his ground. “Not anymore.”
“Why?”
Cesar grabbed his jacket. “Yeah, I think I’m just going to go.”
Ben held up a hand. “No. Darcy was just leaving.”
“No, Darcy’s not leaving.” She turned to his best friend. “Cesar, right?”