Driven to Ink by Karen E. Olson Page A

with, even though it was pretty simplistic overall and as an artist, not too challenging for me. It was time-consuming, however, and two hours later we were making arrangements to finish it up in a couple of weeks.
    Joel was leaning against the front desk when Carmella finally took off, pleased with her half tattoo.
    “Bitsy’s been filling me in. Why did you pretend you were going to marry Jeff Coleman? I would’ve gone over there with you.”
    I appreciated the thought. But Joel’s girth, his barbed-wire tattoos, the long braid that almost reached his waist now, and the chain that snaked into his pocket and held his keys all screamed biker, while his soft, lilting voice and almost girlish mannerisms revealed his true nature. No one would buy us getting married.
    I smiled and thanked him. “I’m all done with that now.”
    “Are you? What about that impersonator?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Does he really look like Dean Martin?” From the way he asked, I began to wonder whether Joel didn’t have a Rat Pack crush, too. While we suspected his inclinations, we weren’t positive which way Joel swung; he hadn’t come out to us, and we never saw him with a date, girl or guy.
    “Not without the wig, really,” I said.
    Bitsy pushed open the door. I hadn’t realized she’d gone out. She was carrying a take-out bag from Johnny Rockets.
    “Lunch,” she announced.
    It was two o’clock, but who was paying attention? It was always lunch in the shop, especially with Joel around. Although we had been eating way more burgers lately because of this Atkins thing. I wondered what it would be next. I couldn’t see him turning vegetarian or vegan. Weight Watchers made a load of money off him, and he swore them off. Maybe that Jenny Craig thing I kept seeing on TV, where you have to buy their food.
    None of it appealed to me, and fortunately, I was skinny enough and my metabolism obviously still worked well enough that I didn’t have to worry about it.
    We followed Bitsy to the staff room, and she handed out burgers. Joel’s next client had arrived, though, so he downed his burger in two bites before taking his client into his room.
    “Where’s Ace?” I asked between bites.
    “He’s taking the afternoon off,” Bitsy said. “He’s working on some new paintings, and he wanted some time for that.”
    Of all my employees, I knew Ace the least. The things I did know were fairly superficial, like where he lived and how he got into this business. Ace was a frustrated artist, thus the comic-book paintings on our walls, but since he didn’t make much money off those, he had to make money somehow. He’d fallen into tattooing by meeting up with Flip Armstrong, the guy who owned the shop before me, and training with him. I’d done the same thing back east with Mickey, but unlike Ace, I embraced my new career. Ace did great work, don’t get me wrong, and was very conscientious about it, but he was always a little removed from it, as if he were too good for it.
    A buzzer sounded. Someone had come into the shop. Bitsy jumped up off her chair and went out front. I kept eating.
    But the burger almost caught in my throat when Bitsy came back.
    With Will Parker behind her.

Chapter 18
    W ill Parker grinned at me. Bitsy was smiling widely behind him, giving me the thumbs-up.
    Great.
    “Oh, hi, there,” I said, standing awkwardly, acutely aware of some sort of burger dribble on my chin. I grabbed a napkin and wiped it across my face, hoping there wasn’t anything else incriminating there.
    When I gave him my card, I honestly didn’t think I’d see him quite so soon. If at all. It had been only a few hours since I’d met him.
    While I’d been worried about his intentions earlier, now I hoped he wasn’t some sort of weird stalker.
    Bitsy discreetly left the room. I was sure, however, that she hadn’t gone far, since she probably wanted to hear every word. A good thing. Just in case.
    Will Parker hadn’t stopped grinning, but