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“Finally, my girl makes it into the shop officially,” Lucas said next to me.
Mazzie strolled up to the counter of Grunt Ink as she did nearly every day. In the three weeks that I had been staying with Lucas, the morning routine was like clockwork. He ran out to Devine Coffee House for coffee and sometimes cinnamon donuts on the weekends as a treat. When he came back, depending on the day, I was already in the shop talking to Mazzie, who was waiting for her coffee. In return, Lucas and Alex used the bar next door as their personal beverage station throughout the day, usually just for a seltzer water but sometimes, if clients were done for the day, something stronger.
The camaraderie between business owners on Main Street in Kitchi Falls was something else. Mazzie and her fiancé had quickly become good friends of ours. But she’d been so busy fully staffing and booking gigs for the bar, working sunup to sundown, the tattoo she’d been talking about had gone on the back burner.
Until today.
It wasn’t the first one I’d designed for Lucas, but I was definitely feeling the pressure with this one.
“Careful,” Mazzie said, “you’ve only got one girl, and she’s right next to you.”
Lucas put his hand in the back pocket of my jeans. He knew how much I loved that.
“When I call Charlee my girl, trust me, she knows the difference,” he said suggestively.
I swatted his hand, love it or not, out of my jeans. “How unprofessional.”
Grabbing her coffee from the counter, Mazzie laughed at our antics. It was a Saturday morning, and Mazzie was the first appointment of the day. Like Gian, she was getting ink as a nod to the Italy trip where they met. But no Medusa for her. Mazzie wanted a wrist tattoo like mine. She couldn’t decide between something Italian or one to commemorate her late father’s bar in Scottsdale, which she had recreated here as Boots and Brews.
“Anyway,” I said. “Let’s take a look and see what you think.”
Lucas had helped me take my designs digital. I spun the iPad toward Mazzie and waited for her reaction.
“Uh, she’s crying,” Lucas said as Mazzie immediately burst into tears. “That doesn’t usually happen when I show clients my designs.”
I swatted his arm again.
“What d’you think?” I asked her after a minute. And after handing her a tissue.
“How did you even know? All of it? I can’t even.”
“Well,” I said. “Your dad’s bar logo wasn’t hard to find. And I talked to Gian to find out what we could use from Italy that would make you think of the trip but specifically him too. He said something about buying you lemon soap on your first date and since lemons and Sicily go hand in hand, ta da.”
“It's so perfect. I honestly could not have come up with this on my own.”
Smiling, I looked up at Lucas. He was clearly proud of my work, as was I. This was exactly the purpose of this form of art, including the designs people chose to put permanently on their bodies in the form of tattoos. If it made you smile or cry in remembrance or feel any sort of emotion, then design was doing its job.
“I’m so glad you like it,” I said sincerely.
“How’s the size?” Lucas asked. “We’ll print and position it, and you can always change your mind from there. But looking at it now?”
“Looks great,” Mazzie said.
“Alright. Come on over.”
I watched as he prepped her just as the door of the shop opened. “Hey, Gian.”
“Morning, Charlee. Did they start yet?”
“Nope, not yet.”
“Gian,” Mazzie called from the tattoo chair. “Wait until you see the design.”
A half hour later, Lucas was ten minutes into Mazzie’s tattoo when Gian asked if he could talk to me. “We won’t bore you two with work stuff,” he said to Lucas and Mazzie, and we made our way to the front of the shop.
“Work stuff?” I asked as we sat in the front room with our coffees. The shop was empty since it was technically before opening hours.
“I’ve been thinking a bit about how Lucas and I can help each other. I know he’s not wanted to sink a lot into advertising yet and hasn’t needed it, but eventually he will.”
