Thirty-five and Single

Seriously, isn’t that what most women want no matter the hair color? I try to pull back, but Zelda is surprisingly strong.

“He desires you and wants you in his bed.” The psychic’s voice has gone all creepy, and I wait for her to open her lids to reveal milky-colored eyes.

Her guesses are too generic to be anything but what she thinks I want to hear.

“He’s an accountant.”

“Strike one,” I say.

“His name starts with P.”

“Strike two,” I count.

“A child will come between you.”

“Strike three.” I yank my hand away. The idea of a child, knowing I’m barren, sears a hole in my heart and I have to leave. “I’m out,” I say, getting to my feet.

“We still have time in our session,” Ella says.

“Please wait, there’s more,” Zelda pleads.

“Give Ella a reading. I’ll be outside. I need fresh air.” I speak as politely as I can muster.

Storming isn’t necessarily the word, but I leave like a tornado, not caring what’s in my path. Taking the stairs two at a time, I pant from lack of exercise over the course of three days and lean my back on the wall.

Of course, everyone gliding by on the sidewalk is a mother, father, child, or a pregnant woman. Feeling like less has never hit me so hard.

When Ella finally joins me, I have no concept of how long I’ve been out there.

“That was rude.” She glares at me.

I shrug. “I didn’t mean to be. You know…”

Ella’s expression immediately softens, and she wraps me in a hug. “I’m sorry for that.”

I hold onto her a few seconds longer. When we pull apart, I break the tension by saying, “Let’s face it. She didn’t hit the mark. Neither Joel nor Corey fits those descriptions.”

“Not completely, but Corey…” She’s thinking of the baby portion of Zelda’s premonition.

“He’s blond.”

She nods. “She’s usually right on the money.” I want to yell at my sister for being taken for her money. “Maybe she’s seeing a guy in your future.”

Disagreeing with her, I shake my head. “When I came in, she asked if it was about a man. The only men in my life who are making me confused are Joel and Corey.”

“Notice how you keep saying Joel’s name first,” Ella says triumphantly. “Do you want me to tell you the rest of what she said?”

“No way. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Want to grab some food first? Rog is out with a friend.”

As much as the words almost tumble out of my mouth, I still them. Ella lives a different life, but honestly a happy one. Whatever she and Rog do is her business.

“Sure, and by the way, I’m going to get you back for that tattoo.”

I’ve tried not to remember what it looks like and what it says.

Ella laughs. “I thought for sure you were going to call me and curse me out.”

I would have, but I’ve been dealing with other truths.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to get you back. Mom and Dad might not recognize you when I do.”

She snickers. “Speaking of our parents, have you talked to them?”

“Yeah, they called on my birthday.”

Luckily, we’d spoken while I’d been watching a comedy. My laughter ensured Mom didn’t worry about my emotional wellbeing.

And just like that, we slip into easy conversation, which helps take my mind off a certain sexy inked-up guy who has utterly rocked my world.

Chapter Nine

Joel

The woman I’m working on continues non-stop chatter as I work on transforming the ink of her ex-boyfriend’s name into a trio of roses. This is a common affair in my world.

When I finish, her eyes can’t hide her amazement.

“God, you work miracles.”

“You like it?” I ask.

“Of course. I’d heard you could fix mistakes, but this is better than expected. This is gorgeous. I know where to come if I ever think of inking another asshole’s name on me.”

She laughs and shows her friend. Then I give her the standard instructions and warnings as I usher her to the counter to complete the sale. Once I’m done, my partner, Ronnie, comes over.

It has been a long day with non-stop clients, which isn’t a bad thing. “I think we need to hire another person or two,” he says.

Needing someone else proves that business is good. If only everything else in my life was.

I’d given Olivia space, but that was about to change.

“Let’s post the ad,” I say.

He doesn’t move. “Maybe we should consider—”

I shut him down because I already know what he’s about to say. “It’s not a good idea.”

Ronnie doesn’t give up. “She’s the best in the city—besides us, of course.”

He tries to laugh it off, but it doesn’t work on me.

“She’s unreliable.”

My voice is as flat as the idea.

He half-laughs but without humor. “Yeah, well, maybe if you kept your dick out of business.”

I could tell that comment had been simmering for a while. He has no idea what really went down and I’m not about to share. He isn’t that kind of friend.