“It’s a beautiful painting, we should—”
“Keep it,” I said.
“I take it one of you will fill me in on the story later?” Drew asked.
“We’ll go get milkshakes one day,” Bryan said mindlessly.
“Good. Now, what did you want to ask me, Hailey?”
“I, uh, oh, yes. I, um, wanted to talk with you about displaying some of your tattoo designs in the gallery,” I said. “I think that maybe getting some larger pictures to display permanently on the walls will help advertise your new business. You could keep some cards on my counter, maybe a little booklet of other tattoos you’ve done on people.”
“You serious?” Drew asked.
“Very,” I said, grinning.
“I’d love that, chica. Seriously.”
“Chica. Hm. I suppose it’ll grow on me,” I said.
“Dude and man are his things for me. Don’t let it alarm you,” Bryan said.
“I suppose I could be called worse,” I said, winking.
“Hailey, would it be possible for me to get your opinions on how to do up the inside of my tattoo parlor?” Drew asked.
“Sure. Whatcha need?” I asked.
“Well, my background’s in construction with a love for tattoos. I’m not really an interior design kinda guy. Your gallery’s so warm and inviting. I’d like my tattoo parlor to be the same.”
“I don’t see why not. We could get together sometime over the coming days and spitfire some ideas,” I said.
“Thanks, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t just want a tattoo parlor. I want an artistic business like you’ve got.”
“Drew, I run my fingers over your artwork multiple times a week. I’d love to help you with it,” I said.
Bryan started laughing as Drew’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.
“Way to go, dude, and yikes,” he said.
Bryan grabbed the last four paintings we had of John’s before the three of us started back inside. We walked through the door and shut it, taking stock of the people in the crowd. I didn’t recognize a soul in there anymore, which meant people had left while more people had trickled in. There were two more people standing at the cash register looking for me, but before I could make my way over there, I heard Bryan set the paintings down at his feet.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Holy shit,” Drew said.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Bryan’s eyes connected with a couple across the room. I could only see their profiles
, but I recognized them instantly. The rolled back shoulders. The noses that were slightly turned up into the air. The white hair on top of both their heads that were hair sprayed in place. Every single thing about them screamed money from the bag the woman was carrying all the way down to the loafers the man was wearing.
Bryan’s parents had shown up to the gallery.
“Is your cash register hard to work?” Drew asked.
“Nope. Just ring up the price on the tag, take their money, enter in the amount, and press cash,” I said.
“I got the people lined up. You and Bryan go over there,” he said.