We didn’t have a meeting room like some big corporate office. We usually either piled into Tate’s office or gathered out back. Sometimes we’d have meetings after closing and just hang around the front of the shop. But since the place was open, Tate was talking to everyone in chunks. Which meant I stood in his office with Cass and Prick. They were seated, I stood with my back against the wall.

Tate was on the other side of his desk.

“I’m glad we can meet,” he said.

“Oh, Christ,” I said. “If you start talking like a real boss, I’m out.”

“Okay. Fair enough. It’s time to take St. Skin to the next level. Starting as soon as possible.”

“Tell me this has to do with Hazel,” I said.

“Of course it does,” Tate said. “She’s going to document everything.”

“Are we going on TV?” Cass asked. “If we do, I need to get a lawyer involved. I’m sorry, Tate, but Paisley is not going on TV. She’s too young.”

“I’m good with TV,” Prick said.

“You would be,” I said.

“Fuck you, man. It’s exposure.”

“Will you three shut up for a minute?” Tate growled. He punched his desk and grabbed a folder. Then he walked around his desk and threw it at me.

I peeked inside and saw contracts. “What the fuck is this?”

“You want to grow with this business?”

“I’m not selling my soul,” I said. “And what the fuck does Hazel have to do with this?”

“Open the damn folder, Maddox,” Tate said.

I did.

“Here’s the truth, guys,” Tate said. “We’re sitting on millions right now. Hear that again—millions. A TV deal would bring millions to all of us. I’ve gotten proposals. I’ve had a lot come across this fucking desk. And I’ve taken everything I’ve heard and made a decision.”

I flipped to a picture of a building.

Then I realized it was a selling sheet. For a real estate listing.

I looked at Tate.

He grinned. “Get it now?”

“We’re moving?” I asked.

“Moving?” Cass asked. “What?”

I showed Cass the folder.

Prick reached for it. “What the hell…”

“We’re not moving,” Tate said. “We’re expanding. We’re opening a second shop. That’s the news of the day. That’s why I’ve been meeting with suits and ties. Not to fucking force you assholes to go on TV, but to expand the business. To make more money. To do greater things. To hire more artists that will share the St. Skin image.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “You’re opening a second shop? You say we’re going to make more money. How?”

“We can’t be in two places at once, Tate,” Prick said.

Tate grabbed the folder and tossed it to the desk. “You guys are fucking something else. We’re giving up on millions, right now. With the second shop, I have the chance to sign a TV deal, but keep anyone out who doesn’t want it. But…if you take a second and look, you’ll see that I don’t own the second shop.”

“Who does?” I asked.

“You,” Tate said. Then he pointed to Prick. “And you.” Then he looked at Cass. “And you. And the rest of the guys here. We’re splitting the ownership of the new building and business.”

“Jesus,” Cass said. “Ownership.”

“Which means we rise together or fall together. I’m putting up the capital, then we go from there.”

“Tate,” I said. “Really?”

“Really,” he said. “I want you all involved. We’re going to design the shop. Set it up, open it, and go fucking wild from there. The building is already bought. Now it comes down to designing it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Cass said. “Can I give my ownership to Paisley?”

“What?” Tate asked.

“You know I’m okay with money right now,” Cass said. “Let me give this to Paisley. Or at least Diem. Put it in her name. I’ll consider it an insurance policy against myself or something. I’m happy just doing what I do here.”

“Damn,” Prick said. “You’re really something, Cass.” Prick then looked at me. “And you’re catching up.”

“What?”

“You and Hazel…”

“Speaking of her,” Tate said. “I spoke with Hazel already, and she agreed to document this whole thing for me. The way I look at it, when this all ends, what are we going to have to look back on?”

“A big bank account,” Prick said. “And hopefully a few women strutting around my house, naked.”

“Of course that’s what you want,” Tate said. “But for all of us, we’ll have the pictures Hazel is taking. She’s done with the shop here. So no worries about her bothering anyone.” Tate looked right at me. “She’ll be over at the new place, capturing what happens.”

“So Hazel knew about the expansion?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Tate said. “Why?”

“Oh, I know why,” Prick said. “He’s pissed that she didn’t spill the beans to him.”

“Fuck off, Prick,” I said. “Are we done here? I have a client.”

Tate gave a nod.

I still had plenty of time before my client.

I went to my room and sat down.

For some reason, it fucking bothered me. Expansion. Change. Hazel knew it and didn’t tell me. It was all petty kind of stuff, but I wanted Hazel’s trust. I wanted her to be able to talk to me. Tell me anything. Trust me with secrets and with pain.

Why?

Because I wanted to trust her with my darkest secret.