“You hear me?” I whined. I tried to be stern, but it always came out in a whine.
“Fine,” Clementine said, and when she noticed she was the only one who spoke, she elbowed Ceci who then echoed her own, “Fine,alright!”
“And not a word to Ox, or Lis, or even Amá and Apá. Okay?”
More silence, these little troublemakers.
“Claro, niñas?”I asked, my voice actually earning some authority this time.
“Yes! Okay!” They both burst out in a giggle, Clem speaking up next. “Geez, I guess we know who’s really the boss around here.”
“Right,” Ceci snorted in agreement.
I just huffed.The boss.
Funny. There was still one last problem sitting on my mind. I guess not everything could be resolved in one night.
Chapter Eight
AUGUSTUS
Tap, tap, tap.
The repetitive sound of Gerald’s eraser knocking against his sketchpad was… fine.
Click, clack. Click, clack.
Jules typing away on the laptop up front was also… fine. She wasn’t even working. When there weren't any customers and all the emails were answered, Jules liked to work on her novel. But fine, fine, whatever.
Snap, clink.
There went Ryan with his goddamn glass sodas again. But don’t worry, that was all fine. And Lana bobbing her head to her extra loud music in her extra-largeheadphones–yup, fine too.
Just.Fine.
It was a slow Thursday at the shop and everyone was doing their own thing… loudly. Yet even with all the noise, the ring of the shop phone still made me jerk so hard, the tray I was prepping rattled.
Ink tipped and spilled onto the wrapped surface, splatter not only getting over everything I had perfectly lined up for my eleven o’ clock, but also wasting all three inkwells I would be using for the day.
I closed my eyes, hissing in a whisper, “Fucking Christ.”
“Everything okay, Gus man?” Quis asked.
“Yeah. Who’s on the phone?” I asked, my hands going about my tray in a frenzy, trying to clean up and reset for my appointment.
“No clue,” Quis said. “Jules?”
Jules held up her finger, signaling us to wait as she took the call. In the meantime. I reset my work tray with the necessary materials as I tried not to think about the same thing I’d been trying not to think about for the past week.
Stormy brown eyes.
“Gus!” Jules called from the front, finally off the phone. “That was your eleven ‘o’ clock calling to cancel!Again.”
“Jesus Christ,” I growled. I guess I would have to waste all of this inktwice. “Next time they fucking cancel, I’m dropping them. Let them go to fucking Tore for all I care.”
A reflexive groan rose throughout the shop at the mention of Tore Tattoo. A rival and a nuisance to Ink and Mar.
“Someone’stesty,” Lana said underneath her breath, popping a look up at Jules that she thought I didn’t see.
