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“It is.”
“Where could you possibly be tattooing a man at?” Kenneth asks, scrunching his face up.
“He’s getting Jacob’s ladder.”
“What?”
“It’s a piercing.”
“And you can’t do it out here?” he asks, spreading his arms around the shop.
“Not this type, no.”
“What type?”
I chew my bottom lip before I say, “It’s a penile piercing.”
“What?” he shouts angrily.
I pray Marco doesn’t come running out here feeling like I need him to rescue me.
“Look. I need you to calm down. I’ve been doing this for years, Kenneth. It’s not my first one, and it won’t be my last one.”
“Like hell, it won’t if I have anything to do with it.”
“And you won’t because this is my business.”
“I don’t like it,” he growls.
“Yeah? I don’t like it when you come to my house or shop smelling like another woman’s perfume. I have to grin and bear it and accept your explanation of ‘hugging voters and kissing babies’,” I say, using air quotes.
He works his lips furiously and shakes his head. “I’ll wait out here.”
“No. You’ll go home, and I’ll call you when I get home.”
“I’m not leaving you with—”
“You will. Look, Kenneth, this isn’t about your ego. This is my place of business, and my clients have the right to feel comfortable getting serviced and not being evil-eyed by my fiancé and their city councilman. Besides, I just started this, and it will be hours before I’m done. Go home. I promise to call you when I’m done,” I say, grabbing his hand and leading him to the door.
“I don’t like this.”
“I understand, but you have to trust me,” I say, cringing at the irony of my words.
Kenneth shakes his head and kisses me on the cheek. I watch as he storms out the door and stomps down the street where his car is parked half a block away. My heart starts to settle down after I see him drive away.
“Say the word.”
I turn to see Marco watching me in the doorway.
“What word?”
He shakes his head. “Tell me you want me, and I’ll make him a memory.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“I don’t make threats, Tesoro. That’s a promise.”
A chill runs through me because I have the feeling we’re discussing the murder of my fiancé. That’s the last thing that I want.
