I dragged myself out of bed for the day and picked up my camera off my dresser. Nearly nine. I didn’t know how Rachel was getting up before noon herself with the late hours she was pulling. Then again, I was my own boss. I toyed with the settings on the camera. It had been so long since I’d used it. Usually I took most of the pictures in the shop with my phone or with my client’s phone. Some of the pictures from the paper, those were ones I’d taken months ago. The guys from the shop had all chipped in to buy me the camera when I changed the name of the shop. I took it out less often than I should.

When Ivan had pointed out the pictures in my studio, I realized I hadn’t printed out any that I’d taken over the past few months. I fired up my laptop and went through the portraits. Such a slacker. I definitely owed some of my clients the pictures I’d promised them. After editing a few of them, I e-mailed them out to various clients and stared at my screen.

The close-up shots of the ink were great; what was I doing with them? A long time ago I had toyed with the idea of maybe going to art school. Or showing my work at a gallery or something, but I’d quickly pushed that aside. The designs I created weren’t the kind you saw hanging up in those galleries. Walking canvases were what I created.

I could ink someone’s entire body and never doubt any piece of my art, but the thought of sending my work to be critiqued by someone with a trained eye made me want to puke.

I flipped through page after page of the tattoos I’d worked on over the years. So many people who had trusted me to bring their vision into reality. I was humbled by the fact that what I created with ink and steel became a part of who they were and they always carried that with them. To think that this would be my life after ten years. When I left juvie, I hadn’t known how I would survive. No family. Barely any friends. And no Ivan.

But I made my way, somehow. And now I ran my own business. Life is good, right? I should be happy. I should be grateful. But in the back of my mind, I knew something was missing. My life would never be the same the minute I let Ivan touch me. And I had been right. Our nights together were definitely a mistake.

Pushing away from my desk, I grabbed my camera and slipped the SD card back inside. I’d take some pictures of the clients I’d been working on. Some of their ink would look good up on my wall. Maybe I could use some of it for ads for the shop or something. I never knew what to do with these pictures other than sticking them up on my wall.

The weight and balance of the camera came back to me like riding a bike. Cell phone pictures didn’t give the same depth and feel that I could get with my trusty camera. I’d see who’d let me take a few shots of them. I had no idea why I let what Ivan had said get into my head, but it had. For so many people, their tattoos meant a lot more than the ink on their skin. I’m sure a few people wouldn’t mind showcasing that.

Rachel turned up midway through the day, huffing and puffing as usual with a garment bag slung over her shoulder. That was new.

“What’s with the bag?” I asked, dropping my mug into the sink.

“Oh, it’s for a gala that Mr. Thayer—I mean Rhys—is going to.”

“I wouldn’t have taken him for a dress kind of guy.” I chuckled, and Rachel shot me a look.

“It’s for his nanny, Mel. She’s going with him.”

“A billionaire boss dating his nanny. How original.” I rolled my eyes.

“It’s not like that. He’s not like that. Plus Mel is awesome, and if they were dating, anyone who has a problem with it is just being an ass,” she said, lifting her eyebrow at me.

I held up my hands in surrender. Wow, sensitive much?

“You got me. I’m sure they make a wonderful couple.”

She grabbed some food and we talked about random stuff, but her eye was always halfway on her phone. Not that it was unusual, but it wasn’t going off like it usually did. She picked it up and tapped away on the screen, but Rhys’s notification hadn’t come on since she’d been here.

“Who are you texting?” I asked, looking over her shoulder. She clutched the phone to her chest.

“No one.”

“If it was no one, you would let me see your screen,” I said, trying to get a good look at her phone.

“It’s no one.” Her cheeks were red and flushed. It looked like my little Rachel had finally gotten herself a guy.

“So who’s the guy?” I asked, leaning on the counter. Her mouth hung open and then snapped shut.

“How did you know?”

I kept myself from rolling my eyes. “Of course it’s a guy, Rachel. You’re all flushed, secretive, and are almost never home anymore. And not like before when it was just work; this is something else. So give me the dirt. I’m all ears.” I leaned in conspiratorially.

She got a dreamy look in her eyes, and I knew she was a goner.

“He’s not like anyone I’ve ever been with before. He’s not really nice.”

That made my ears perk up. “What the hell do you mean, he’s not really nice? He’s not nice to you?”

“It’s not that kind of—I don’t even know what we are. And I don’t mean he’s not nice to me. I just mean he’s not really a nice person.” She ran her hands over her face. “I’m not explaining this well, am I?”

“No, you aren’t, because I’m about five seconds away from tracking this guy down and beating the crap out of him. What are you mixed up in, Rachel? And who is this not-nice guy you’re seeing?”

“I just mean he’s not like any other guy I’ve ever gone out with. But the way he makes me feel… I’ve never felt that before. And he’s not really an asshole. People seem to think that he is, but when he’s with me, I see a different side of him. The good and the bad.”

I couldn’t very well warn Rachel about being with the guy who was bad news when I was ten seconds away from jumping Ivan’s bones every minute he was in my shop.

“He makes you happy? He treats you well?”

She paused, seeming to think it over before nodding her head slowly. Not exactly convincing.

“You do know that I will cut off his balls for you, don’t you?” I put my hand over hers and squeezed it. She put her hand on top of mine.

“I know you would, and that’s why I love you.” She checked her phone and jumped off the stool. “I only came home to change my shoes. These were so uncomfortable.” I glanced down at the kitten heels she had on and barked out a laugh.

“When are you going to wear those shoes your mom sent you?”

She froze at the end of the hallway.

“Do you mean out? As in out in public? How about never? I would kill myself. Snap my ankles like twigs.”

“We have a deal. You had to wear them out within two months. Your time is almost up.”

She glared at me. “I hate you.”

“You just said how much you love me.” I hopped down from the stool, landing solidly on my six-inch heels.

“That was before you started trying to force me to wear the death heels.”

“They are meant to be worn out in public, Rach. You’ve got to show them off.”

She grumbled under her breath something that sounded a lot like “this is the thanks I get” and “one of these days I’ll get her back.”

“Tick tock. Tick tock.”

“I hate you,” she said again from her room. Rachel came back out with her sensible flats on.

“So when do I get to meet this mystery man?” I asked, shoving my camera into my bag.

“I don’t really think he’s a meet-your-friends kinda guy.” She grabbed the garment bag and hefted it over her shoulder.

“I guess when I told you to go out and do something that I would do, you really went for it,” I said, patting her on the shoulder.

“I seriously have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to him.”

That made two of us.

“Everyone needs to have one of those types of guys in their life at some point. They help keep things interesting, right?” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, her or me. From the look on her face, it didn’t seem like I was doing a good job either way.

We left at the same time, with Rachel heading back to work and me heading to the shop. I stepped in the front door, and everything seemed completely normal. And it was. It was me who was different. Different because Ivan was back in my life, and as much as I tried to pretend that it didn’t matter and that I wasn’t affected, I knew the truth. He was turning my world inside out and upside down all over again.

Axel came out of the back.

“Hey, boss lady, nice of you to show up.”

“It’s one of the perks of being the boss, Axel.”

“Big D, how many you got today?” Ty asked, glancing up from the sweeping lines of a hawk he’d outlined on his client’s calf.

“I think I have three.”

“That’s it? You’re slacking,” he said, chuckling, his mop of brown curls jumping all over the place. He was a serious goofball about everything except for tattooing. That was the only thing that kept him quiet for more than five minutes.

“There were some dudes in here earlier looking for you,” Axel said without looking up from the client’s calf he was tattooing.

“That’s very informative. And what did they say? Did they make an appointment or something?” That wasn’t too unusual.

“No, they just said they were looking for you. Wanted to know your hours and stuff.”

“Did you tell them?”

“Nah, they looked weird. Big bulky guys in suits. Looked shady as fuck,” he said, swapping out ink. My heart pounded. Who were they? Were they someone Ivan’s uncle had sent? Did he know I was working with Ivan?

“Did they say they’d be back?”

“Nah, just left.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” I wandered back behind the counter in a daze. Had I just plunked myself back in the middle of the horror that visited me a week after I’d left juvie? When I finally broke and thought about speaking to Ivan again.

I set up my station and got everything ready in my studio, including getting my camera out. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe they were just two guys coming in for tattoos. All kinds of people wanted tattoos. I took a few deep breaths and got ready for my day. Maybe I’d bring this up to Ivan later. Maybe.

Every one of my clients was ecstatic to have their pictures taken. The sun had long set as I saw my last regular client to the front door and everyone else started to clear out. The shop was busier than ever. Overflow clients who came in knowing I was booked up for the next few months made appointments with the rest of the guys in the shop.

Almost everyone was booked for at least the next two months solid. Business had always been steady, but it had never been like this. I was glad the guys were finally getting a bit of recognition for their art.

“Hey, Dahlia, there’s that new bar a few blocks away. The Bramble. They’ve got some pretty big musicians playing there. People like Eric Newcastle. Did you want to come for drinks?” Axel asked, holding the door open with Ty standing behind him, bouncing from foot to foot. He could never stand still. Like he sat still for so long doing tattoos that all the energy had to come out every minute of the day.

“No, it’s fine. I still have that extended after-hours client coming.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize it was still going on. How much longer do you have that?”

“Not that much longer. We should only have one more session, and the cover-up will be finished.” Sadness cratered in my stomach as I thought of finally finishing Ivan’s tattoo. As much as I tried to make myself believe that this was only the cover-up, only to help him start his new life, only to help me get rid of that little voice in the back of my head that wondered about him, I knew the truth. Ivan was well under my skin.

“Cool, we’ll see you tomorrow, and we need to go out. I’ll even spring for drinks this time,” Axel said, closing the door behind him.

“That, I need to see,” I called out as the door swung shut.

I went back into my studio and started throwing things into the autoclave to sterilize them. There was a pounding on the back door of the shop. No one ever came in that way. My heart thrummed as I stepped forward and put my hand on the exit handle. Should I grab a weapon or something? I glanced around, and other than an old milk crate, the shop was sorely lacking for weapons. I took a deep breath and peeked out of the crack to see who the hell was trying to get into my shop.