We both have bills to pay.”
“Come on, Gus,” I groaned, shaking my head. “You’re acting like I’m constantly turning people away. This chick brought in some Pinterest butterfly bullshit. Celia can do it.”
“No, but turning one away looks like shit for the whole shop,” he pointed out. “And that girl specifically asked for you, so you're gonna make an exception this one time. Now, go out there and ink the prettiest damn butterfly you've ever done.”
“You’re killing me,” I muttered, unwinding my arms and raking a hand through my hair.
“Yeah, maybe, but I’m still your boss. I’m allowed to kill you sometimes. Now, get out of here.” And I decided, in that moment, that Gus was the devil and I was repenting for my abundance of sins. I sighed and left the office without another word. Audrey was still standing where I'd left her, with her hands clasped at the edge of the butterfly print.
"Let's go," I told her brusquely as I hurried past.
"O-oh," she stammered, collecting her purse and running to keep up with me. “We’re doing it now? I thought you just wanted to look at it today.”
“It’ll be quick.” I brought her to my station and aggressively wiped down my vinyl-covered chair with disinfectant. The willpower to not be a complete jerk was excruciating. "So, where are we putting it?"
"Oh, um, I was thinking maybe my hip?"
I looked at her exhaustedly. "I want you to be absolutely certain of where you're having me put this thing. No questions, no maybes."
"I thought you would give me your professional opinion," she admitted.
"Honey, you don't want my professional opinion."
Audrey's gaze narrowed curiously as she cocked her hip. "Why's that?"
"Because, in my professional opinion, you shouldn't be getting some Photoshopped crap you found on someone's Pinterest,” I spoke frankly, struggling to keep my tone from sounding too snobby. “You shouldn't be getting some random butterfly because you think it's cute. You should be getting a one of a kind piece of art created specifically for you with your body and vision in mind, and—"
"It was my sister's," she cut in abruptly, her voice quiet and small. “She got it done by you a few years ago.”
My gaze was still and blank as I stared at her. Sufficiently speechless, stunned, and stupefied. I took a gulp from my water bottle to wet my mouth, before asking, "Can I see that for a second?"
"Sure." She passed the picture to me and I studied it, trying my best not to let it show how much of a judgmental piece of garbage I suddenly felt like.
Only one half of the butterfly was colorful, while the other was grizzly. Splotched with black and grey, highlighted in white. I struggled to remember doing it and who I’d done it on. I did so many tattoos, it was hard to memorize them all. Hard to remember every meaning behind them. I didn't remember Audrey's sister, but I thought I might remember this tattoo. It was a transitional piece, I think. Meant to symbolize a change in her life, I think—or maybe not. Fuck. What did it mean? I couldn't recall and I immediately felt embarrassed for it.
I cleared my throat and rubbed a hand over my mouth. "Where does your sister have it?"
"Oh, my sister is dead."
At the blunt statement, my eyes shot up to meet hers. "Fuck. I'm sorry."
Audrey waved a hand and shrugged nonchalantly. "It's okay. Anyway, it was on her shoulder. So, maybe I should get it there, too?"
I chuckled and let my eyes soften. "Is that where you want it?"
She smiled almost bashfully. "Actually, I really wanted to get it over my heart, but I'm scared it'll hurt."
"It's going to, but the pain is temporary," I replied bluntly. “If that's where you want it to go, then that's where it should be. Nothing else will look right to you, and the last thing I want is for you to regret it."
A flicker of apprehension passed over her gaze before she toughened up and nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."
"All right. Let me just get the stencil drawn up. You can take a seat right here and we'll get started in just a few minutes."
***
"It's perfect," she announced, studying the wrapped tattoo in the full-length mirror. "Thank you so much."
"No problem." I tossed my black latex gloves into the trash. "Take your time. I'll meet you up front."
Celia snapped her gum and grinned at the sight of me. "Well, look who it is. The world's biggest