Page 27 of Based on You

Sloane spread her hands out on the table, the backs covered in fine, detailed ink. "From looking at my hands, I'd think you could guess."

"Tattoo artist?"

She nodded, proud. "Violet was one of my very first clients."

I whipped my head back to Violet. "You have a tattoo?"

She shot a lethal glare across the table at Sloane before turning back to me. "Yes."

"Can I see it?"

"No, you cannot see it so casually," Sloane jumped in before Violet could speak. "There are two of them, actually. In very specific locations."

"Sloane," Violet hissed.

"Now I'm curious." I leaned back and crossed my arms. "Where are they?"

"They're in spots I can't describe out loud with Olivia sitting right here," Sloane teased.

Olivia slapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide with delight.

I studied Violet. Her eyes were fixed on Sloane, flat and unmoving. I'd known Violet Paige for two years. In the office, here at the restaurant today, on the phone at midnight, she'd been steady and contained in everything she did. The idea that she'd gone somewhere and made a permanent, painful choice to ink her skin in places she wouldn't even name in front of a teenager… that wasn't the tidy version of her I'd built in my head.

"There's one right at her waist," Sloane volunteered.

"Sloane, shut it!" Violet shrieked, her voice spiking half an octave. Olivia dissolved into breathless laughter. I said nothing. I wasn't about to be the one to stop this interrogation.

Sloane pointed an inked finger at Violet. "Do you want me to tell him where the other one is?"

"I'm not a prude," Violet said, glaring at me, "and no, you may not. Boundaries. Please."

I looked back and forth between the two women. If the first tattoo hid at her waist, the second had to be somewhere that took very specific, intimate circumstances to ever see. I picked up my water glass to hide my expression and kept my face still.

"So, that's what you look like underneath it all," I murmured into my glass. "Tattooed."

Violet dropped her gaze to her plate. Her whole face had gone bright pink. "Boundaries, Mr. Beckett."

I only smiled.

The conversation shifted after that. Sloane and Olivia found their way back to their own private thread. Violet sat with much less tension in her shoulders than she'd brought to the table, catching my eye now and then with a shy smile before looking back down at her food. She didn't push for more personal conversation, and neither did I. She'd chosen what pieces of herself she was willing to give today, and I wasn't going to reach past that.

We finished eating. Sloane and Olivia traded contact information right there on the busy sidewalk. Sloane had her phone out before Olivia had finished saying she'd like to keep in touch.

Then Sloane pulled Olivia into a tight hug right there on the pavement, arms thrown out with zero hesitation. Olivia's arms rose slowly to return it. Her chin rested over Sloane's shoulder, and I could see her face from where I stood. She closed her eyes for one long, peaceful second.

Violet looked up at me. "Have a good rest of your Saturday, sir."

"You too, Violet."

We stood there a moment on the sidewalk. She still had the romance paperback from the store tucked under her arm. She gave one last nod, then turned on her heel to follow Sloane up the block.

Manuel was already waiting half a block up. He opened the rear door, and Olivia and I climbed into the quiet of the town car.

The ride was thick with quiet for the first six blocks. Olivia stared out her window. I stared out mine.

I unlocked my phone and tapped out a text to Violet, telling her to thank Sloane for me, and thanking her for a good afternoon. I hit send and tossed the phone onto the leather seat beside me.

Without turning her head, Olivia spoke. "Violet is really pretty."