Chapter 26

Margot

I’m keeping the business, but I’m not keeping you.

When it came down to it, that was what Cain had meant last week. That he’d keep his thumb stuck in Get Ink’d’s pie, but that whatever we’d had wasn’t anything more than the fling I’d said I’d wanted all along.

Except that had been a straight-up lie. To myself and to him. I wanted so much more than just a fling with Cain, or I had until he shoved me back emotionally and basically laid it out that what I felt for him didn’t matter.

I bit my bottom lip, squeezed my eyes shut, sighed, and acclimated to the office, tried erasing all the memories of us in here, on the desk, me on my knees for him, the way he’d cleaned me up and held me, and how he’d “protected my honor” in an old-fashioned sense, which had been totally overwhelming, appreciated, and frustrating all rolled into one.

A knock sounded at the door, and I opened my eyes, squared my shoulders. “Who is it?” I called out. Yeah, maybe I was a little paranoid about letting people into my office now, but what the hell, it was warranted.

“It’s Nat. I made you some coffee.”

Oh god.

“Come in,” I said, then dragged the tablet on the corner of my desk toward myself and unlocked the screen. I’d left a list of our regular clients on it and had determined to send them updates on the store and to thank them for choosing us as their parlor.

Basically, I was a kiss-ass.

The door opened, and Nat shuffled in with a cardboard cup holder and two Styrofoam cups ensconced within it. The coffee vapors steamed from the tops and teased me.

“Oh wow, you went out for coffee?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Nat said. “I figured you needed it. Ha, I had you fooled, though, didn’t I? You totally thought I made you another of those crappy coffees again.”

“Who said you made crappy coffee?”

“Some asshole,” Nat replied. “Don’t worry about it.” She took one of the mugs out and handed it to me. “See? I even got them to Sharpie your name onto it with a little heart.”

I accepted the cup and set it down, then turned it until I caught sight of the name on the front, just above the store’s logo. “Margarine?”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers,” Nat said, then sat and showed me the name on her cup. “At least, you’re not Nut.”

“Nut is closer to Nat, than Margarine is to Margot,” I said, and took off the lid, inhaled the scent of hazelnut. “Oh god, hazelnut macchiato?”

“Who loves you, babe?” Nat asked. “Maybe the barista has a food fetish.”

“Well, with a label like ‘Nut,’ you know he’s got some type of fetish,” I replied.

We giggled about it, and it felt good. It felt damn good to have a normal conversation without arguing or the sensation that my heart was about to pop out of my chest because I wanted to touch them so bad. Him so bad.

Ugh, I still couldn’t shake that, even though he’d made it clear we were nothing.

Nat slurped her coffee and eyed me over the rim of her cup. “Are you all right, boss? You’ve been quiet lately. It’s been quiet in the shop.”

“You miss Ben?” Or was it Jerry she’d been interested in?

“Nah, I saw him last night. We went out for dinner, and then he took me back to his place and—”

I waved at her. “Trust me, I don’t need the juicy details. Don’t eat in front of the hungry, haven’t you heard?”

“And we listened to Tom Petty,” Nat finished. “Is what I was going to say. Sheesh, you must think I’m some kinda sex maniac.”

“No, I don’t,” I replied. Maybe I was the sex maniac. God, if I’d gone home with Cain after a date there wouldn’t have been any Tom Petty, there would have been nothing but pleasure and then the sweet agony of knowing it was nothing but one night.

I shook my head. I had to quit thinking like this.

Cain was a frustration. He wouldn’t let me buy him out, even though I’d been pre-approved for a loan at the bank. Miracles did happen, apparently.

“I meant that it’s quiet without Cain in the shop,” Nat said, and set down her cup. She twisted a couple strands of purple hair around her index finger and sighed. “I won’t deny I miss the eye candy, but I’m kinda more worried about how you’re taking it.”

“Taking what?”

“Him not being here. Come on, I saw that kiss. I saw how you two were around each other. You were totally into it. Into each other.”

“It was nothing,” I said. Really, it had been nothing. Now, I saw that. “And it will remain nothing. What we need to do is focus on bringing in more business now that the show’s fallen through. We can’t let this destroy us. You know what, Nat? There’s no ‘can’t’ about it. We won’t let this destroy us or Get Ink’d. My father worked for too long and too hard to—”

Knuckles rapped against glass at the front of the store, and I checked my watch. We weren’t open yet, and the first appointment wasn’t for another hour after opening time.

“I’ll get it,” Nat said and launched herself out of the chair.

I sipped my coffee in the silence, mulling over what she’d said. Yeah, it was horribly different without Cain here, and it made me ache inside, but he’d made the decision for me. And I’d been a fool to even consider opening my heart to him again.

God, hadn’t I learned my lesson with Steven?

Nat’s footsteps traveled back to the office door, and she peeked her head around the corner. “Uh, boss?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, Kelly Hayes is here to see you.”

“What?!”

“Kelly Hayes. Should I let her in?”

Fuck. Now, that was both unexpected and unwelcome, but a part of me was curious. She’d tried sniping Cain from the shop, and I’d long suspected that the picture I’d received from that “unknown” number had been from her, directly or indirectly.

“Boss?”

“Yeah, let her in,” I said.

Nat’s eyebrow ring did a dance all of its own. “Damn, are you sure?”

“Hundreds.”

Nat disappeared again and came back a minute later to pick up her coffee, with Kelly right on her tail.

My ex-best friend was as exotic and beautiful as she’d always been. Pity she was toxic as a nuclear waste dump inside. Intricate tattoos spread across her chest and up to her neck, and she’d recently done a feather under her left eye if the redness around it was an indication.

“Margot,” Kelly said, and threw her arms wide.

“That’s Margarine to you,” Nat whispered.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. My receptionist hurried out of the office but left the door open. That was my new policy: door open if I didn’t trust the person in here with me.

Kelly pretended she hadn’t heard what Nat had said and swept across the room, swaying her non-existent hips. She sat down across from me and offered me the smile I’d thought was genuine years ago, before I’d learned better.

“What do you want, Kelly?” I asked.

“Wow, you’re welcoming,” she replied. “Are you feeling cranky this morning, Margot?”

When we were kids, she’d always been the leader of our two-man gang. She was the alpha, and I was meant to be the follower, though I’d never subscribed to that position. It likely still pissed her off that I didn’t bow down to whatever she thought she was. A queen?

“I’ll feel better when you spit out what you want, then get the hell out of my office. I don’t have time to waste, not now.”

“Yeah, I heard you’re having a little trouble now that your show’s been cancelled. Rumor has it Cain hasn’t been tattooing for you for the past week.”

“Rumor?”

Kelly checked her claw-like nails, bright purple to match her store’s interior, then flicked an invisible bit of dirt out from underneath one of them. “I have my sources.”

“The same source who takes pictures and sends them to my phone?” I asked.

Kelly shrugged. “I didn’t say my sources were discreet.”

“No, you didn’t.” I’d already tired of having her and her overbearing perfume in my office. Gosh, couldn’t things around here just be peaceful for more than a couple minutes?

“In truth, I kinda figured Cain wouldn’t be around after what happened. It made national news, honey, the fact that he threw a punch at an executive. That’s real bad for business. He’s probably doing you a favor by staying away.”

“Kelly, your opinion on my business partner means nothing to me. Kindly get to the point.” Ugh, it blew to call him that without actually having him around anymore.

“I want your shop,” she purred, and placed her palm flat on the desk, leaned in, dark eyes sparkling. “I want it, and I’ve come to get it. Sell it to me.”

I stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head. She may as well have.

Silence built between us, flowered, and spread. Kelly had lost her mind if she thought for a second I’d ever sell my half of Get Ink’d to her. She had lost her grip on reality.

“What do you say?” she asked. “I know you’re struggling. I can turn this shop into something special, better than whatever you and your father tried to conjure up with the tacky pictures and the red paint.”

“As opposed to the zebra stripes and nudity in your shop?” I rolled my eyes at her. “Not to be petty here, Kelly, but you can kiss my lily-white ass if you think I’ll ever sell to you. Dealing with you is like dealing with a fucking snake. In fact, no, that’s too nice. It’s like dealing with a demon. Do you really think after everything you and Steven did to me that I’d ever even consider it?” I asked.

The corner of her lip tugged upward as if what I’d said was amusing. “I don’t see that you have much of a choice. You’re already failing the shop, your father.” Oh man, she hit low. “Why draw out the inevitable?”

“Let me make something crystal-fucking-clear to you, Hayes,” I said and rose, boiling and about to spill over. “I would rather die than give you this shop. I will burn it to the fucking ground before I see you dig your greedy, tacky little claws into it.”

She stood up too, and the smile had turned nasty, sickly, even. “You’ll regret this.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. In case you didn’t catch the cue, that’s a no from me.” I channeled my inner Simon Cowell. “And you can get the hell out of my shop before I call the cops and have you removed for trespassing on private property.”

Kelly snarled.

“Buh-bye.” I waved at her. Yeah, it was catty, but in the time after Steven and Kelly had betrayed me, I’d never spoken to her like this. I’d let it lie. I’d simply kicked Steven out and ignored her. Dealt with all the anger and kept it under control.

Now? It was good to let it out. It was good to show her that I wasn’t a goddamn doormat.

Kelly clicked her tongue once then spun on one nine-inch heel and clip-clopped out of my office.

The quiet afterward should’ve been triumphant. Instead, it was empty.

I sank to my chair and stared at my coffee cup.

Cain was gone. No amount of inner fire could change that fact. He was gone, and he wouldn’t come back.