"Hurt?" she asked.
"Like a son of a bitch."
She laughed.
"Apparently, the closer you ink to bone, the more it hurts, but the less likely it is to look like crap in twenty years. Above the ankle seemed a good choice. Easily hidden, but not always hidden."
She took a closer look. "Ricky has the same one?"
"Matching tattoos would be a bit much. His is similar but different."
"In my day, we just exchanged class rings. This would have been so much more fun. Of course, considering the rate I went through boys, I don't think I'd have an inch of skin left."
I laughed and she looked up at me, voice softening. "Was he happy?"
I nodded.
"I bet he was." She settled back into her seat. "Normally, a couple of weeks alone on the road in the wilderness wouldn't be what I'd suggest for a young couple, but I think you'll do just fine."
I smiled as I tugged down my pant leg. "We'll survive."
"I hope so," Gabriel said behind us. "I'll have work waiting when you get back."
He headed to the coffee machine. As I put on my boot, he looked toward my ankle.
"Yes, I was showing off my tattoo," I said.
He selected a pod from the carousel and popped it into the brewer. "It's relatively discreet, I hope."
"Yes, sir, though I would point out that since I'm getting my private investigator license, it would be perfectly acceptable for me to have tats. I'm also thinking of a piercing or two."
He snorted and waited for his coffee. My phone chirped.
"That would be my ride," I said. "So long, and don't work too hard."
Lydia said goodbye. Gabriel apparently considered it redundant, having said it in his office, but he came out after me, murmuring, "Wait a moment."
He shut the door behind him and checked down the hall, making sure we were alone.
"Before you go," he said. "I wanted to assure you that Todd's appeal is my top priority."
"I know. Thank you."
He glanced toward the outer door, then adjusted his tie. "So everything is . . . all right?" The last word rose, question rather than statement.
"Everything's fine."
"And you and I? We're . . . fine?"
I smiled for him. "We are. I know this isn't the best time for a vacation, but--" It wasn't as if I was leaving for good. This was my job now, and we had plenty to do still, between setting my father free and figuring out how to handle the Matilda legend. Two weeks, and we'd be back at it. Together. That hadn't changed.
"No, no. You could use a break. I just . . ." He trailed off. Another phone chirp. Ricky telling me he was parked in the lane, not rushing me, but Gabriel said, "You should go."
"I'll see you in two weeks."
I got as far as the front door, my hand on it, when he said, "Olivia?"
I turned. He stood there, hands in his pockets.