Page 5 of Love at First Ink

Marisol rolled her eyes. “No, I think I’m capable of getting to a tattoo shop by myself.”

“Good. Then wait for my text and enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

Before Marisol could respond, Lola hung up. Her phone went dark, and she sighed, tossing it aside. She supposed there wasn’t anything else to do but wait and watch reality TV to feel better about her own life.

Marisol put on one of her favorite shows about couples and all the drama leading up to their marriage before settling in for the night. Marital drama was entertaining when it wasn’t her own. She tore open her veggie chips and popped one in hermouth. It wasn’t the most glamorous birthday she ever had, but at least she didn’t have to be paraded around a bunch of people who only cared about her name and status.

Not even a full hour later, her phone buzzed again. She picked it up to see two texts: one from her sister and the other from her father. She clicked on her father’s message first. It was a simple happy birthday text, but she appreciated his effort to reach out. It didn’t slip her mind that her mother had yet to contact her. She didn’t expect her to, but still, it hurt.

She sent a quick thank you text to her father before opening up Lola’s text. Her heart lurched with both excitement and nervousness as she read her sister’s message.

Appointment scheduled for noon tomorrow at Golden City Tattoos. Don’t be late.

CHAPTER 3

Cisco

The closed door helped a little to block out the electric guitar playing through the loud speakers in his shop. Cisco had them installed a week before they opened Golden City Tattoos and had the foresight to not install any in the room he deemed his office. Five years later, he appreciated that decision more than ever because he couldn’t imagine how much louder the music would be if he did.

The pads of his fingers gently thrummed against his antique wooden desk. It was a dark brown mahogany wood with built-in drawers on either side of him. It was a bitch to carry into his office because the damn desk weighed at least three hundred pounds and couldn’t fit through the door. He ended up having to create a larger entrance to his office in order to get the desk in, but all that work was worth it. It looked and felt good.

He felt like a damn boss. Which he was.

Cisco glanced down at his work phone, wondering if the call dropped, but, no, they were still connected. His realtor was simply taking forever. Luckily for Ernesto, Cisco could be apatient man when he wanted to be. While he waited, his eyes roamed his dark, emerald-green walls, covered with framed pictures of favorite tattoos he had done over the years. There were even pictures of a younger, more eager-eyed Cisco, who, at twenty, opened his first tattoo shop in Albany, just north of his current shop in Berkeley.

He still had both shops today, entrusting his cousin to run the shop in Albany while Cisco focused his attention on the shop in Berkeley. It had been a good arrangement for years, but Cisco had gotten that itch again—the need to expand and start up another shop in a more populated city. San Francisco? Los Angeles? Santa Monica? He was leaning more toward San Francisco because it was the closest to Berkeley. That way he could easily juggle his time between the two shops and could respond promptly if a problem arose. Santa Monica and Los Angeles were far and probably too much of a risk.

“Found it!” Ernesto’s accented voice came through his speakers. Cisco let out a sigh of relief, half afraid Ernesto had dreamed about this listing. “This one’s in San Francisco. That’s a good location for you, yeah?”

Even though Ernesto couldn’t see him, Cisco nodded. “Yeah, it has potential.”

“This one is located on Market Street. Busy street with lots of activity. The space is a little smaller than your Berkeley location. Fourteen hundred square feet. Recently renovated with a new central AC system, updated bathroom, and new tile floors. It’s only been on the market a few days, but a spot like this is going to go fast. If you want to see it, we better make an appointment soon,” Ernesto said. Cisco could hear him typing something on his keyboard, probably pulling up potential visiting dates.

“They have availability this week and next, but the sooner the better,” he stressed.

Cisco tapped the trackpad on his laptop, and the screen came to life immediately. His calendar was the first item to pop up, kept current by Lyana, his receptionist and younger cousin. If he was meticulous, she was the goddess of organization. No paperwork or appointment had been missed with her running the shop.

A new, highlighted note had been added to today’s agenda. He had checked yesterday afternoon to prepare for his schedule and certainly didn’t see this appointment. It was vague. Lyana had written “small to medium tattoo at noon” with no other notes.

He guessed it was a new client since his regulars typically left detailed instructions for him. He didn’t usually take on new clients, but seeing as today was an unusually slow day, and he was the only tattoo artist working, his cousin simply scheduled him. Cisco’s gaze dropped to the clock on his laptop. It was barely eleven, giving him time to prep after the call.

Pushing the mysterious appointment aside, he checked his calendar. It was only Tuesday, but his schedule was full this week except for a large opening on Friday. “Can we do Friday afternoon?” he asked Ernesto. He didn’t want to push it back any further. Friday would already put him at a disadvantage for being competitive when it came to putting in his offer.

“Yeah, Friday will do. I’ll set it up for two. I can pick you up?—”

“Nah, send the address. I’ll drive myself.” He didn’t have a problem with other people driving, but he liked the freedom of driving himself. Plus, he had been in a car with Ernesto behind the wheel. If he didn’t value his life or sanity, he might consider letting Ernesto pick him up. But considering last time, whenCisco’s knuckles turned white and went numb from grabbing the handle above the window so hard, he felt like this was a safer option.

Ernesto laughed, not even trying to change his mind. “Yeah, I’ll send over the address Friday morning. In the meantime, I’ll keep looking.” And then the phone went dead. No goodbyes. Notalk to you later. That was very much Ernesto’s style. Cisco didn’t mind it because he was never one for prolonged goodbyes.

Pushing himself up from his leather work chair, Cisco pocketed his phone and headed out of his office. The music from one of his favorite local bands blasted through the speakers when he opened the door. He liked his music loud, but notthisloud. He had to be able to hear his clients, and right now he couldn’t even hear himself think.

When Cisco rounded the corner that led to the main lobby, Lyana was lounging in her black and pink office chair, eyes closed as she mouthed the words to a song and band she claimed not to like. Cisco smirked. They were a newer Mexican indie band that hadn’t gained a lot of popularity yet. He knew they would blow up soon enough though. They had that infectious sound that made you want to sing along.

“Ay, Tiny. Turn it down, will ya?” Cisco had to shout to be heard. Even though he enjoyed the band, he didn’t need to enjoy them this loudly.

Lyana—Tiny—opened one eye and glared at her cousin. Cisco didn’t take it personally because that was the nature of their relationship. They teased and bullied each other and called it affection. It was the only way he knew how to bond with his seventeen-year-old cousin. She leaned forward and turned the dial to quiet the music until it was at a more respectable level.

“Shouldn’t you be doing schoolwork?” Cisco came up behind her to lean against the wall. Part of the agreement for Tiny working here was that she would continue her education online. She hadn’t enjoyed her time in high school because teens are dicks, and her only safe haven was working at the shop on weekends. Her parents—his tía and tío—agreed she could keep working as long as she continued her studies online. They didn’t care if she wanted to go to college one day, but they insisted she get her high school diploma, a decision Cisco agreed with completely.

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