Tattooed Moon (22 page)

Three weeks later…

T
he needle dove
deep into the flesh of the patron, and the guy sighed with sadistic pleasure. Angela appeared unable to keep her teasing to herself, and it was rather unnerving. He was sick of all of them. It didn’t help that Alex also chimed in, an unlikely culprit, but the true ringleader was Cedrick, who went for the jugular.

“Whew!” the man would shout in a garish fashion, his pierced tongue wagging about in some oddly obscene way. “J-man has been gettin’
laid
!” He then took a poll to ask who’d seen the woman. No one would confirm it either way. Julian was tight-lipped about his personal matters, but he already knew they were on to him. The number one suspect was the stacked honey brown sweetie that kept coming up to the shop every now and again, dropping off vegetarian lunches for her sweetie when he’d complain of being swamped at the job. She’d show up dressed to kill in her form-fitting yet professional dark suits and her hair always styled to perfection.

He knew how it looked to many; they were a visually odd pairing, but he knew better—they blended
perfectly
. Most importantly, he liked what was happening to him. He was open and ready to take it all in. He’d arrived.

He was in love…

He thought about her all the time—a telltale sign he was in this deep. With work no longer center stage, his heart waved a red flag that said, ‘Fuck you and your damn shop. I want that woman.’

Instead of his work suffering however, it got even better. Being in love made a special beauty come out, one he believed wasn’t as strong before Milan walked into his life. He hated to admit it, but his art was many times led by his emotions. Now, the ink manifested a bit richer, the elements a bit more detailed, an extra minute or two was taken and he smiled a bit more, too. At least according to Angela… That didn’t stop her from ruining his mood, however. In the last few days, the nuisance of a woman had tried to make him look at the accounts. The invoices were a mess. She chided how Julian wasn’t taking this seriously, and he would end up being a taxation nightmare, more than likely owing way more than he actually should, due to poor recordkeeping.

Initially, he blew her off, believing he could fix this situation at the last minute, as he always did. It usually involved long hours of sitting at his dining room table, combing through bits and pieces of wrinkled receipts and cursing the day he was born. He’d get through it, but now that business had exploded, no way could he do this on his own anymore.

“Julian!” Angela called out after another customer left and he began the process of cleaning his tools.

“What?” He looked over his shoulder; sure he didn’t want to hear whatever she had to say. The woman seemed to think better of it, but made her way over to him, red patent leather Mary-Janes clicking on the floor, a twisted black and red rose tattoo snaking up her pale leg.

“Why don’t you ask your girlfriend to take a look at this for you? She’s a certified accountant, right?”

“And how do you know that?” He grimaced as he tossed a bag of bloodied gauze in the trash.

“It was in her paperwork.” Angela smiled coyly.

“You are so damn nosey.” He grinned, then thumbed her chin before turning away.

“Well, why don’t you?”

“Because it’s
my
business, and it’s
not
for her to fix.”

Angela sighed loudly. He peered at her reflection in the mirror, catching her placing her hand on her hip, her bright red 1940s pin-up style attire bunching as she twisted about, angst and frustration clearly on her face.

“Typical man, shit…” She huffed and crossed her arms. “Why can’t you just admit you need some help? I don’t have time to fix all of this. Look, your popularity is a problem in this case. Your business has more than tripled in the last year, Julian. You can’t do this by hand anymore.”

He looked past her out in the lobby area. Three customers were waiting, two of them thumbing through magazines, and they would soon be joined by at least two more in the next hour. He’d already resigned himself to the fact that he needed to interview applicants and hire two more artists, something else he dreaded.

“Look, she might not even charge you.” She winked at him. “Just ask her to take a look at it, please?!”

“Nope. Get back to work,” he barked. “The phone has been ringing off the hook.” He pointed to her desk as if she’d lost direction. “That isn’t a church bell, you know. When are you going to answer it?” he snapped.

He turned his back towards her once again, but could feel her heated glare. Finally, she stormed off. Giving a sigh of relief, he fell into his chair and spun around, taking five to steady his mind. Reaching into his pocket, he slipped out his cellphone and called the one person who could ease his tension and make it all better.

“Hey, baby,” he crooned, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He checked the time. “Just callin’ to check on you…” He ran his hand down the front of his black jeans as he leaned far back in his chair.

“Hey there to you, too!” He could hear the smile in her words. “What are you up to?” Her smile—the prettiest thing she ever wore.

He glanced over at the waiting area.

“About to take care of another customer and then make some calls…need to hire a couple more artists.”

“Yeah, that’s good though, right?”

“It is, I just hate doing interviews.” He stifled a yawn as he slowly pivoted in the seat. “I know what I’m looking for in an employee but it takes a while sometimes to find a good match. So…what are you doing tonight besides coming over my house for a romp in the hay?”

“You are killing me, Julian. Aren’t I allowed to go to my own home anymore?” She laughed.

“Of course! But that means I’ll have to come over there then, which is fine. Am I smothering you, baby?” He grinned wider, knowing that she actually enjoyed all the attention he was giving her. The flowers that arrived at her office, the little love notes and the mysterious two-hundred dollar reimbursement that showed up in her mailbox with a short letter that read:

I was going to give you the tattoo for free, but if you blew me off and I never saw you again, I figured I better get something back for my time…

“Yes, but I like it,” she admitted, interrupting his daydreaming.

“Good. I will be getting out of here late tonight, unfortunately.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it. “But I can—”

Suddenly the phone was snatched out of his hand and a certain female made a mad dash through the salon lobby toward the front door, those damn heels clicking with all of their might.

“Angela!” he angrily cried out.

Shocked out of his mind, it finally settled in what had happened. He’d been so heavily involved in his conversation, he hadn’t seen her ass creep up on him and rob him blind. He got to his feet and went after her, bursting through the doors like a maniac out for blood. He looked from side to side, and spotted the little vixen-styled asshole a few feet away, gripping his phone as if she were dialing 911. She looked at him out the corner of her eye and slowly backed farther away, but there was nowhere for her to escape…

“Give me my goddamn phone!” He stormed towards her, his heart beating out of his chest and his temples pulsating. She started to panic, speaking faster and higher as she continued to move away from him.

“…And it’s a mess, that’s why, Milan!
Please
help him! The jerk won’t ask you, he has too much pride!” She sprinted off, trying to make a go of it across the street, but it was too late. He yanked her shoulder back. “Milan! You gotta tell him to—”

He snatched the phone out of her hand, causing her to yelp in pain from the way he twisted it from her tight grip.

“Ouuuu!”

Angry, he brought the phone back to his lips. “Whatever she said, Milan, ignore it.” He served Angela a withering glance.

“I most certainly will not. Matter of fact, since I am on my work phone, and my lunch break is coming up soon, I am heading over there to see what’s going on.”

“It would be a wasted trip!” He went back inside the place, feeling heated all over as anger and a bit of shame took him under its humiliating wing. Soon, panic set in. He couldn’t let this happen. “I can handle it.”

“What? Like you
have
been, Julian?”

“I’m serious, Milan. Don’t—”

But she cut him off, and he was listening to the dial tone. Furious, he shoved his phone in his pocket and turned around only to see Angela sitting in her chair, looking at him with a big, silly smile on her face, as if she were an innocent kitten that had gotten caught out in the rain.

“I should fire you…” he seethed, seeing red,
bloody
red!

She looked down at her desk, covered in a pile of tracing paper and hand-written phone messages. Reaching over the mess, she casually pulled a silver nail file from her pencil holder and proceeded to work on her black lacquered nails, clearly not giving a hot damn.

“We both know you’ll be thanking me later.”

“Don’t you
ever
do that again!”

Before he could lay into her even heavier, the phone rang, saving her from the verbal tongue lashing he had in store.

He debated high-tailing it out of there, knowing that Milan was on her way. No way could she make it there and back to work in a hour. On her previous visits, she would come when a meeting had let out, allowing her extra time. But not today…

Should he just accept defeat? He collapsed into his chair, leaned forward and ran nervous fingers through his hair.

She was coming. And there was
nothing
he could do about it…

*

“Come on…are
you leaving or not?!” Milan mouthed as she waited for a space in the crowded ‘Soul Inscriptions’ parking lot. All of the street meters out front were occupied. It was lunchtime after all, and the area boasted some of the best eateries in town. Slowly but surely, the long 1980’s rusted blue Cadillac pulled out of the spot. On the sidewalk, two slick-haired young guys, seemingly oblivious to the world around them, puttered about, laughing and acting silly. Milan tapped her steering wheel impatiently, and glanced at her car time. She backed into the space, then walked to the shop, fully expecting a fight with Julian while she demanded to see his records. Smirking, she imagined having to grapple him to the ground, knowing full well she could never win a fight with him that involved pure brawn—but this was a different sort of battle all together, thus, she had a fighting chance.

She swung the door open, immediately drowning in sandalwood incense.

So much for the people with allergies…

Swinging her arm in front of her face, she chased the fragrant clouds of away. People sat in the chairs and on the beige leather couch. A large bowl of bananas set on the table in front of them, along with piles of various magazines. Across from them, a television was set on low with caution captions for some daytime court show. She looked at Julian’s seat and saw that he wasn’t in it. If she didn’t know any better, she’d bet he’d just gotten up and left once he caught wind of her.

Where is his ass? Is he with a customer in the back?

Just then, Angela nodded sneakily in her direction, then pointed to the back room, shamelessly ratting her boss out and divulging his hiding place. Milan smiled at her, and nodded back in appreciation. Holding her head high, she made her way back to the scene of the crime. She hesitated when she reached the door, her mind drifting back to the day he’d taken care of her in this same room, marked her body with sweet memories she could treasure, and opened a flood gate for a love like she’d never known. She cleared her throat, but before she could knock, Cedrick, the bane of her lover’s existence, spoke up while working on a customer.

“Ohhhhhhh, lover booooy! Your babe is here!” He cackled.

Milan decided to not pay the fool any attention and quickly rapped on the door. A few moments later, it swung open. She stepped inside and Julian swiftly closed the door behind her, as if a damn dead body lay inside and he didn’t want anyone else to see. Much to her surprise, she was greeted with a soft, sensual kiss, and after that, a table covered in neatly stacked papers. Beside it stood a bin full of what she perceived to be receipts, an open laptop showing numbers and figures in an Excel document, and two cups of what appeared to be tea, one at each seat.

“Ahhhh, you decided to bite the bullet, huh?” she teased as she grabbed his hand, bringing him back towards her, and planted another kiss on his lips.

He smiled ever so slightly and pointed to the chair. She sat, allowing him to scoot her chair in, and placed her purse on the table.

“Yes. I thought about chickening out, running out of here, but that would have been silly. I gave my customer money for lunch. He’s a regular… I asked him to give me a hour or two.”

She nodded in understanding.

“So, it’s true?” Milan picked up several papers from one stack and scanned them.

“Is what true?”

“What Angela said? That you’re in trouble…that your records are a mess and you don’t have a good way to track your transactions?”