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Hannibal found it amusing how some artists jockeyed for position on the lists that the different magazines put out. Like any form of media, they liked drama as it fed their sales. Reporters would drop rumors during interviews trying to foster rivalries.
He knew and respected many of the people who hit the top 100 lists every year, along with him and Ink. Most of them thought the whole thing was as silly as he did.
“You can’t rank art. It’s about what a person wants and what they’re feeling at the time. Finding the perfect combination between talent and vision. I do some tattoos that are completely from my own mind, but most of them are collaborations between the person whose body is going to be the canvas and my vision of what they want. How can you rank that?”
“That’s beautifully said. I prefer tattoos, that mean something. Don’t get me wrong, I obviously want them to be beautiful as well. But I think a simple tattoo that holds deep meaning is more precious than something elaborate that’s only purpose is to feed someone’s vanity.”
“Is that what you want from me,cher? Something simple.”
“Oh no. I want the best of both worlds. That’s why I wanted both you and Ink to do a back piece for me. I want something beautiful and elaborate, that means something very important to me.”
A lock of her hair had fallen in front of her face during her impassioned speech. Hannibal couldn’t resist brushing it back and running his thumb down her soft cheek.
“Let’s sit down.” He gestured at the couch.
“Okay.” They sat in silence for a few minutes as she studied the walls. The expressive nature of her face fascinated him. He could tell by the tilt of her head whether what she was looking at intrigued or puzzled her.
“So why did you pick us?”
Hannibal had a healthy ego about his skills. It was hard not to have one, when people paid the amount of money that they did and waited for as long as they did to get his art on their body. Unfortunately, Jade had hit the nail on the head when she said that sometimes people forgot the purpose of tattoos.
To his disappointment, most of his non Dark Sons customers came in with little more than a general subject and wanting him to design something beautiful. He treasured those rare times when someone came in wanting to memorialize something, or some event. He loved taking their vision and giving it life.
Jade tilted her head. “What do you mean? Why did I pick you?”
“I mean, there’s at least two other world class tattoo artists in the Denver area. And lots more in other places. You said back piece, so I’m guessing you were planning on spending thousands of dollars before you won our bet. When someone spends that kind of money I’m curious why they would pick me.”
He was glad that she took a moment to really think about what he had asked. Her face grew soft, and a blush pinkened her cheeks. He was wondering if she was thinking about the other night.
“The first time I saw one of Ink’s tattoos, I was at a Warrior competition. She was the mother of one of the younger competitors. Women rarely get elaborate pictures on their arms, so it fascinated me. It was this lovely angel with its wings wrapped around a small child.” Jade got a faraway look in her eyes. “The child had a look of such joy and wonder on her face it made me want to smile. Then I saw the grief and sorrow etched into every line and shadow of the angel’s face. I knew this woman suffered something that no mother should ever have to go through.”
She cleared her throat before continuing. “It took me months to ask her about it when I saw her again.”
Hannibal knew the tattoo she was talking about. It was one of the first they’d done when they had opened the shop. They’d been struggling with money, but when that woman came in asking to do a memorial for her daughter who had recently died of cancer, neither of them were willing to charge her more than the cost of the supplies.
They’d learned through friends that this woman was struggling financially and emotionally. Having to deal with the expenses from the failed treatments. A single mother who still had a son to take care of. He must have been the one competing with Jade.
The woman knew she couldn’t afford a tattoo but had been willing to sacrifice because she needed something of her daughter to hold on to. They’d both worked long hours sorting through photographs of the little girl to find exactly the right one to use as a template. Hannibal had designed the line-work while Ink did the shading and actual tattoo.
“She told me what you guys did for her. Not just the tattoo but the charity ride to help her with her bills and to make a donation to the Children’s Cancer Fund in her name.”
Hannibal shrugged, not sure what to say. Ink and he had grown up poor, helping out that woman had felt right.
“Anyway, I wanted to find out about the guy who created such a wonderful memorial. I’ve always been fascinated by tattoos, probably since I was a teenager. I read all the magazines and online blogs about tattoos and, of course, watched all the shows once cable started producing them, but that was the first time I saw one that both broke my heart and gave me hope. Ink wasn’t easy to find.” She gave him a glare like it was his fault she’d had trouble finding them.
“What’s that look for?”
“You guys were absolutely awful at anything social media related until recently.”
Hannibal laughed. “Yeah, that’s when we hired Gia. She works the desk and does all that for us.”
“Little Miss Sunshine at the front counter?”
Hannibal shook his head. “She’s much better in print than in person. But honestly we keep her up there because it cuts down on the looky-loos. She’s nicer once you get to know her.”
“Is she now?” Jade’s eyes narrowed.
Hannibal wondered if maybe his little athlete was jealous. It was tempting to tease her, but he didn’t play those kinds of games.
