Page 86 of Ink Me Three Times
“Anyway, enough of that,” she says brightly, clearly picking up on the shift in the air. “Let’s get you looking gorge.”
Eventually, Olivia finishes styling my hair, brushing out the curls with an expert touch, the soft waves tumbling around my shoulders. She steps back, inspecting her work with a dramatic flourish.
“Well, what do we think? A million bucks or... maybe just a solid 500K?”
I laugh, standing up to face the mirror. The reflection staring back at me is... different. Not just in how I look, but in how I feel. There's a confidence there I haven’t seen in months, maybe even years.
“Okay, I admit it. You’re a genius,” I say, eyes wide with genuine surprise. “I look... amazing.”
Olivia beams, practically bouncing in excitement. “Iknewyou’d love it. You just needed someone to remind you how stunning you are. Now come on, I want you to show me around town. I want to get to know how cool this cute little place really is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Timothy
The vibe at Ink& Iron isoff.
It’s not the usual chaos that keeps things humming, or the low hum of conversation over buzzing needles.
No, it’s something different. Something quieter, more suffocating.
Mitchell’s got his head buried in convention prep, and I get it, it’s a big deal. But it’s like he’s forgotten how to look up, how to check in, how to say something that isn’t about booth layouts, portfolios, or machine specs.
If it weren’t for the sound of him muttering to himself about micrometers and presentation boards, I’d think he was a damn robot.
I’m sure Freddie is struggling to hold it together as well. Hopefully Penny is distracting him on his day off today.
I guess it doesn’t help that none of us can get Ivy off our mind. I can see it. She’s made things more complicated.
Even me.
I’m supposed to be the easygoing glue. The guy who holds everything together when the cracks start forming. But lately? I can feel myself starting to crack, too.
But it doesn’t help that I haven’t heard from Ivy since our talk. The one where I spilled my guts, where I said too much and probably fucked up a lot. And now, it feels like I’m stuck in this loop, wondering if I said the wrong thing.
She’s been quiet, and that silence is gnawing at me.
It’s not like me to be this anxious about something I can’t control, but damn if I don’t find myself checking my phone like a teenager waiting for a text.
Nothing.
Not a word.
It’s like she’s disappeared, and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s moved on or if she’s just as confused as I am.
The guys haven’t really mentioned her either. It’s like they’ve hit the mute button on the whole thing, and it makes the air feel thick with unspoken words. The weird thing is that I don’t think they’re ignoring it on purpose. I think they just don’t know how to bring it up. Or maybe, they’re pretending they don’t care, but they do. I know they do.
But I’m not going to be the one to break the silence. I can’t be.
I glance over at Mitchell, who’s hunched over his sketchbook again, only this time his focus is so intense, it’s almost... disturbing. He’s lost in whatever world he’s building around this convention, and I can’t blame him. But I’m wondering if he’s running away from something too.
“Hey, Mitchell,” I start, the words stiff, forced, trying to focus on a conversation I know he’ll want to engage in. Work. “You think we’re good on the booth layout, or...?”
Mitchell doesn’t look up. Just keeps scribbling. "Mm hmm," he mutters, flipping a page. "It’s fine. Need to get the portfolio together, though. And the machines... Need to check everything."
I blink at him, frowning. It’s not like I expected a warm conversation, but damn, it feels like a wall between us.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” I say, trying to keep it light, but it feels heavier than usual. “Just making sure we’re all on the same page. It’s a big deal, you know?”
