I closed down my laptop, pocketed my phone, and went downstairs to help Emilio out in the tattoo shop instead. I actually liked getting in and doing the mundane stuff that Emilio didn’t really have time for. I took a delivery of sterile equipment and restacked the boxes in the cabinets, did a quick stock audit, put in an order for more ink, answered the phone, took bookings, double-checked timeslots, and helped Daniela when she needed a second pair of hands. I fit in there, I belonged. Wearing a T-shirt so my tattooed arms were exposed, people who came in didn’t look twice at me. In fact, I’d come to know most of Emilio’s regulars by name and would chat with them while they spent hours in the chair getting inked or pierced or whatever. Sometimes they just came in to say hi.
And it helped to keep my mind off my newest case. Well, I thought it did. “Everything okay, Spencer?” Emilio asked. “You keep cleaning that glass counter top, you’ll wear it out.”
I hadn’t really even realised I was still rubbing it. I looked at the paper towel in my hand to find it worn through. “Oh, yeah. Just this new client,” I said.
“It’s bugging you too much,” Emilio said. “You need to tell the client you can’t help him.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
Lola came through from the back. Her pink hair was styled in 1950s victory rolls, which matched the rockabilly style black dress and her pink high heels matched her hair. I’d never not seen her look a million dollars. I hadn’t even noticed she was here, a sure sign of just how distracted I’d been. I relayed my findings, or lack thereof, on the guy called Yanni.
“I’m heading downtown tomorrow,” Lola said. “I could drop you off at the college if you want?”
“It can’t hurt, I guess,” I said. “Thanks, that’d be good.”
Lola eyed me cautiously. “Sure it’s not something else bothering you?”
“Like what?”
“Andrew.”
“What about him?”
She smiled. “Was he okay with it?”
“Yeah. In the beginning he was concerned, but in the end he was fine. I think he just kind of forgot what it is I do.” I shrugged. “I’m seeing him tonight, so we’ll talk about it more then, I guess.”
“Ooh, any plans?”
“I’m cooking him dinner,” I said proudly. “I’m going to attempt to teach him how to make spaghetti bolognaise. Nothing too fancy, but considering he can’t make toast, I thought it was best to start with the basics. Which reminds me”—I looked at my watch—“I better go to the store. Anybody need anything?”
“Nope,” Lola answered. “Not me. I’m heading off soon myself, but I’ll pick you up out front tomorrow at eight.”
I kissed her cheek. “You are the light of my life.”
She fluttered her eyelashes and posed like a fair-maiden. “Why thank you, but I’ve seen the way you look at another, and I think I’ve been rendered to second place.”
I put my hand to my heart and faked a gasp. “Never! My heart is yours and yours alone.”
Lola put the back of her hand to her forehead and played along. “Alas, if only we were born to another time.”
I bowed in front of her. “If only your heart didn’t belong to another.”
Lola curtsied. “If I only had a penis.”
Everyone laughed. Even Emilio had to stop tattooing; not only was he laughing, but the guy getting tattooed laughed as well. Lola and I were always joking around with each other like that.
I kissed Lola’s knuckles, like a true gentleman, before walking to the door. I called out, “Last call for anything at the grocery store.”
No one wanted anything so I walked out, still with a smile on my face. I tried not to think about how good life was right now. I didn’t want to jinx it. But I couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy. Not for a lot of years, anyway. I also tried not to read too much into my relationship with Andrew. Sure, he was great and made me happy, but my entire happiness wasn’t hinged on him. I wouldn’t allow it to be. Because, if for whatever reason he decided I wasn’t right for him, then I wouldn’t allow my world to fall apart.
I couldn’t let that happen again.
I guessed it was part of the defence mechanism I’d learned to put up around my heart. And I couldn’t deny it. If Andrew did decide I wasn’t the one for him, then I’d be devastated. I knew it was only early days, but he was a remarkable guy. He knew my family history and was still interested in getting to know me, in spending time with me. And that made me incredibly happy. But I could compartmentalise enough to know that the fact I was letting someone past my defensive walls was a huge thing for me.
It showed me I was ready, finally after all these years, to move on with my life.
I wasn’t worthless, like my father had told me. I wasn’t unlovable, like he’d implied.
And so even if Andrew and I didn’t work out, I’d made incredible groundwork that my old psychiatrist would have been proud of. I’m sure she’d have told me exactly what Lola had said. I deserved to be happy. And I was happy. My life here in LA was great. I had the best friends, who doubled as my family, and Andrew was just the icing on the cake.
Mmm, cake. I wondered what kind of cake was his favourite. Did he even like cake? It was something I’d never thought to ask… When I arrived at the store, I headed straight for the bakery section and pulled out my phone. I shot him a quick text.
Do you like cake?
His response took a minute. Is that a euphemism?
I laughed at the screen, not caring what the people standing next to me thought. LOL No. Actual cake. Chocolate, caramel, vanilla?
Um, cake with fruit?