Page 30 of Spring Break Fling

He sighed and finally picked up the envelope, tucking it into the safe. “Nikko, at some point, you’re going to have to tell him no.”

“He’s my dad,” I said, defensive even though I shouldn’t be. Marcus had my best interests at heart.

“Your dad is going to get you into some serious trouble,” Marcus said.

“Look, this stuff with my old man? It’s my problem. Not yours. Not the shop’s. If I need advice, I’ll ask for it.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “Fine. Just don’t let it become a habit, all right?”

I nodded, mostly to shut him up. The last thing I needed was another lecture. I knew he meant well but I didn’t want to hear it. My dad was a pain in my ass. I knew it was wrong to take the money from the register, but Marcus knew the situation. And he knew I was good for the money. I was a lot of things, but a thief was not one of them. “I’ll stay out of the register.”

Marcus let out another sigh. “Alright, just look after yourself, okay?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck with a grimace. “I’m doing my best, you know.”

He nodded. “That’s all we can do.”

I grabbed my sketchbook and sat down in the back to work on a design for one of my regular clients. The guy was running out of skin to ink, but we were both getting creative. Time flew by while I worked, and eventually, Marcus called my name from out front.

“Show time,” I muttered.

Would it be a rose? Infinity symbol? Maybe an exciting butterfly. When I walked up front, I saw a guy, probably early thirties and not the typical client.

“What’s up?”

“Divorce,” Marcus said.

And that was all I needed to hear.

“Let’s see,” I said.

The man lifted his shirt sleeve. He had an elaborate and slightly faded tattoo of a heart with a name scrawled intricately through its center: “Marie.” He looked at me with eyes that held regret.

“I want it gone, man. I don’t care if you cover it or remove it. I just can’t stand seeing her name anymore. My girlfriend wants to rip my arm off. It’s been a few years. I need your help.”

I nodded, understanding the assignment. “Got a few ideas that could work. We could turn it into something completely different, or if you prefer, we could do a blackout tattoo to cover it up.”

He thought for a moment, then sighed. “I’m all ears. What do you recommend?”

“Let’s think about something that symbolizes a new beginning,” I suggested. “Come with me.” He followed me to my station. I started flipping through my sketchbook to show him some options. “Maybe a phoenix rising from the ashes?”

The man stared at the sketch. “Yeah, I like that. It feels right. That woman sure as hell burned me.”

I prepped my station. “We’ll work it so the phoenix rises right where Marie’s name used to be. It’ll be like your own rebirth, free as a bird.”

“Hell yeah, brother.” The man looked appreciatively at my designs. “Shit, these are awesome. You did all these?”

“Yep.”

“Man, I wish I would have come to you before I got some of this other shit on me.”

I laughed. “Bad ink gives us all a bad name. I’ll see if I can make up for some of my colleagues’ less than perfect work. Have a seat.”

I pushed up his sleeve and moved my light to get a better look at the problematic tattoo. I couldn’t count the number of people that walked in here regretting a drunken night with a bad tat or something like this. A permanent symbol of something that ended up temporary.

My clients reaffirmed my belief that love was not for me.

As I cleaned his arm and began the outline for the phoenix, I couldn’t help but think of Hannah. Guilt ate at me for my impulsive addition to her tattoo. Putting my initials on her arm had been a crazy breach of trust, but it was a tiny detail. She wouldn’t even notice unless she looked at it obsessively. And it was an easy fix if she ever did see it.