Page 19 of Love at First Ink

Marisol laughed. “You literally told me how horrible of a singer you are when we got here.”

Cisco shrugged. “I’ve changed my mind.”

She rolled her eyes at his response, feigning annoyance, though he could see the playfulness in her eyes. For the rest of the set, he was distracted by her excitement. It was contagious. He got up twice to get them another round of drinks and snacks. This would be his last beer since he was the driver and wouldn’t put Marisol’s safety at risk.

By the time Pasión Rebelde played their last song, Marisol was cheering loudly. It was such a switch from the serious, no-nonsense façade she donned when uncomfortable. Letting loose made everything about her more vibrant.

“Is there another band before The Sinner’s Web?” Marisol was out of her chair, bouncing on the balls of her feet, sipping on her beer.

“Nope, they are next.” Cisco pushed off his chair to join her, leaning against the balcony. Marisol wasn’t drunk yet, but she was definitely starting to feel good. He made a mental note to cut her off so she didn’t wake up tomorrow with akiller headache.

Marisol let out a girlish squeal. “Ugh, I’m so excited. You know, I don’t ever do these types of things.”

“Going to rock concerts?”

“Yeah. The classical shit my parents dragged me to was a snooze fest, and full of pompous aristocrats. There are only so many violin solos I can sit through. Plus, I have to do it sober,” she whined, like that was the worst thing in the world. It honestly didn’t sound appealing to him.

“And then we go to these pretentious afterparties?—”

“Parties can be fun,” he interrupted.

“Not these. It’s a bunch of rich assholes bragging about how rich they are.” She paused before adding, “Sometimes the food is good though.”

Cisco could empathize with her. Having money made many people arrogant, which was why he never made his wealth his personality. In fact, in many ways he rebelled against the image of wealth. He wasn’t the richest man by a long shot, but he had more than enough to live comfortably, invest in his business, and take care of his family. Taking care of his loved ones was his biggest motivator in every aspect of his life. From going to an Ivy League school, majoring in business, to opening his own shop.

He worked his ass off for what he had. Not for the sake of simply having money, which was nice, but to provide for those he cared about.

“Sorry, you probably think I’m just a spoiled brat complaining about stupid shit,” she said flippantly.

“I don’t think that at all,” Cisco replied automatically.

Marisol furrowed her brow, glancing at him. “You don’t?”

“Nah, I think people treat you like a princess but demand things from you without asking your opinions on the matter. I think you go along with it because it’s easierthan fighting.” Judging by the way Marisol’s gaze dropped and the way she bit her lip, Cisco knew his assessment was pretty spot-on.

But he didn’t bring her out here to be her therapist. She had Alice for that. He invited her to have a good time. They could save trauma bonding for their next date…if she agreed to see him again. Which he hoped she did.

“Need something else to drink? Water or soda?” he suggested, changing the topic.

“Water would be nice.” Marisol relaxed at the change in topic.

Cisco grabbed two waters from the mini fridge before handing one to Marisol. She thanked him then pointed to the stage. “What are they doing?”

Cisco watched the guys in black change out instruments. “It’s a set change,” he said. “Basically, this crew takes down the last band’s instruments and sets up the next.”

“Ah, okay. Are they part of the band’s crew? Or do they work here?” she asked, genuinely interested.

“A bit of both. The band’s crew know what their band likes and how to set it up. The crew here can be more manpower to help. A few of the guys are my buddies. I tattoo them.”

Marisol strained her neck as if to get a better look at the men working. Most of their tattoos were on full display, but with the dim lighting, it was hard to make them out. “You’re really talented. How long have you been a tattoo artist?”

“I started when I was around seventeen? Maybe eighteen. Learned from my tío. He owns his own shop down in Texas, and every summer I would vacation there, learning from him. He was damn good. He’s retired now because of his eyesight, but he still gives me advice from time to time.” Cisco smiled, thinking about how his tío Armando always brought a flood of good memories from summer and the brutalTexas heat.

“What about you? What do you do?” Cisco asked.

Marisol just shrugged. “I used to work at my father’s winery. But currently, I only help out when needed. Sometimes I’ll help my sister at her bookstore, but other than that, I don’t have a dream job like yours. I’m not sure what I would do, but I’m really organized. So maybe event planning? That could be fun.”

Marisol seemed like a woman with a Type A personality. He could see her thriving when it came to events because she would plan for everything and make sure the event went on without problems. “Well, I know who to call if I decide to do a grand opening at my next shop.”

---