by Mona Ingram
“Not really,” he said, lounging in the uncomfortable chair as if he had all day. “I’m enjoying this.”
“Oh.” A flush crept up her neck. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had said he enjoyed her company. “What got you started? In your business, I mean.”
“Again, it was my grandfather. When he was young, he was in the Navy, and he had a couple of rough tattoos on his arms. I was fascinated by them, and one day he took me to see a friend of his who owned a tattoo parlor.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “Carmen Delgado. He let me sit in while he worked on customers; I remember every moment of that day as if it were yesterday.” His gaze drifted back to Ariana. “I’ve been learning ever since.”
“I’ve heard your work is in demand and that people come from all over to have you work on them.”
“That’s true,” he said without a trace of arrogance. “But there are more artists coming up all the time and we do exchanges a couple of times a year. I’m leaving in the morning to go to Toronto. I’m scheduled to work in a studio there for a couple of months, and they’re sending someone out here to work with my crew.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and frowned.
“What is it?”
“My next appointment is here.”
“Oh.” A wash of disappointment caught Ariana by surprise. “I guess you’d better go.”
He sent off a quick, one-handed text and looked up with a boyish grin. “I just bought us ten more minutes. I’m working on a friend of mine; he won’t mind.” He twisted around to slide the phone in his pocket and Ariana noticed a small tattoo on the side of his neck.
“Your tattoo,” she said breathlessly. “It’s so realistic.” Brilliant red, the tattoo was a perfect impression of a woman’s lips.
Blaine touched the side of his neck opposite the huge Maori-inspired tattoo and for the first time she noticed a wedding ring. She had no idea how she’d missed that. Perhaps it was the green of his eyes, or the breadth of his shoulders, but somehow the fact that he was married had escaped her completely. ‘It’s someone’s lips” she said, feeling like a fool. But something compelled her to ask.
Blaine’s fingertips rested on the tattoo. “These are my wife’s lips,” he said, and a fond smile softened his eyes. “It’s a memory tattoo.”
“It’s beautiful.” Ariana’s words were little more than a whisper. “She’s gone?”
Blaine looked everywhere but at her. Finally he nodded. “Yes.”
Ariana ached to reach out and touch the tattoo. To pull him into her arms and comfort him... but she couldn’t. “I can tell you still love her very much,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. “And the tattoo is a perfect reminder.”
He nodded, checked his watched and remained silent for several long moments. “Why did you come into my shop today?” he asked, pinning her with his gaze. “I’d like to know.”
Ariana’s heart started to pound and she placed a hand flat on her chest. She owed him a reply, but wasn’t sure she could bring herself to explain.
“My friend Jodi suggested I come and see you,” she said, staring into her coffee. Perhaps if she didn’t look at him, she could get the words out. “I understand that you specialize in tattooing after breast reconstruction surgery. I’m scheduled for a bilateral mastectomy in a few days, and Jodi said I should book a time with you in advance.”
He said nothing and when she looked up, the colour had drained from his face. He seemed to be fighting for breath, then he closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his chest.
His rejection stung, and she struggled to her feet. “My husband’s reaction was about the same,” she mumbled, then turned and bumped into someone.
A beautiful young woman had approached through the restaurant without either of them noticing. Tall and with black, luxurious hair, she was the polar opposite of Ariana.
“Darling,” the woman said, ignoring Ariana and focusing on Blaine. “I’m sorry I’m late. They said I’d find you here.”
Blaine opened his eyes to find Ariana on her way out of the door. She stood on the sidewalk for a moment, turning left then right, a look of desperation on her face. He couldn’t believe he’d hurt her, but he couldn’t go after her. Not now, while his tumultuous thoughts mixed painfully with memories of the past. Maybe later, but not now.
“Sit down, Amber,” he said wearily. “We have to talk.”
Chapter Twelve
“RUN THAT BY ME AGAIN.” Blaine’s friend Shaun was driving him to the airport. “Why do you have to break it off with Amber?”
“Forget I brought it up.” Blaine knew what his friend was doing, but he wasn’t in the mood for any psycho-babble right about now. Besides, it was five o’clock in the morning; not his best time of day.
“Exactly,” said Shaun, unaffected by his friend’s bad mood. “You brought it up.” He glanced over at Blaine. “It’s about that other one, isn’t it? The one on the park bench you told me about.”
Blaine stared out the passenger window.
“But she’s married, man. That’s so not your style.”
“I know, dammit. I’m the one who told you.”
“Okay.” Shaun shrugged. “So you say Amber didn’t take it too well. Didn’t take her long to get hooked by the old Bennett charm, did it?”
“I never should have started up with her,” muttered Blaine. “It was only ever about the sex.”
“Hello! It’s always about the sex,” crowed Shaun. “The rest comes later,” he said thoughtfully. “And if you find the right one, you marry her.”
“Got the T-shirt,” said Blaine. “The thing is, I never thought it would happen again.”
“Time Out!” Shaun was tempted to pull over, but he continued driving. “You don’t even know this woman,” he said, glancing over at Blaine every few seconds. “You can’t possibly be in love with her.” He waited a few seconds. “Can you?”
Blaine turned toward him, and the look on his face said it all.
“You are in love with her,” said Shaun, his tone disbelieving. “Heaven help us.”
Chapter Thirteen
“YOU’RE BACK.” JODI looked up from her position behind the desk, but her smile quickly turned to concern as Ariana approached. “What happened?”
Ariana braced herself against Jodi’s counter and took several breaths. “I went to the tattoo place and made a complete fool of myself.”
“You?” Jodi let out a little snort of disbelief. “Hardly.”
“I’m serious, Jodi. When he asked me what I wanted, I ran out of his cubicle.” She couldn’t meet Jodi’s eyes. “And then I couldn’t remember where I’d left my car, so I ran into that coffee shop next to his place, and he followed me.”
Jodi had the good sense to remain silent.
A faint smile curved Ariana’s lips. “We actually talked for a while.” She looked up. “He’s very nice. But then, when I told him why I was there, he just lost it. Turned white and everything.”
Jodi frowned. “Wait a minute. That doesn’t make sense. This is what he does for a living. Why would he get upset?”
“I don’t know, but he couldn’t look at me. It hurt even more than Jeremy’s reaction.” She paused to consider that for a moment. “I don’t know why.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing, really. His girlfriend came along just as I was leaving.”
“No, silly. I mean did you make an appointment for the tattoo?”
Ariana gave a dry, mirthless laugh. “Hardly. Anyway, he’s leaving for Toronto in the morning. He’ll be gone for a couple of months. I’ll find someone else to do it.”
Jodi studied her friend. “Ariana, would you tell me the truth if I asked you a really personal question?”
Ariana hesitated, her eyes wide. “I’m not sure. What is it?”
“Are you falling for this guy? I mean, I know he’s gorgeous and everything, but you’re hardly in a position right now...” She let the rest of the thought trail off.
&n
bsp; “Don’t be silly.” Ariana’s response was unconvincing. “Of course not.”
Jodi nodded slowly. “I thought so.”
ARIANA WORKED HARD the next couple of days so she could set aside her last day before the operation and indulge herself. In the literature she’d been given, a spa day was recommended as a means of relaxing. There would be moments in the weeks to come where she would scarcely be able to lift her arm, let alone style her hair, and she planned her spa day as something to remember during those bleak times. As she enjoyed a pedicure, it occurred to her that another spa day might be even more enjoyable when the healing was completed. Of course her desire to look good had nothing to do with the fact that Blaine would be back by then. Nothing at all.
BLAINE’S PHONE VIBRATED as he stood in the baggage claim at Pearson airport. It was his shop. He calculated the time difference; with the three-hour lag, they were still at work.
“Yes.”
“Blaine, you won’t believe this.”
“Try me.”
“Gunnar Brasso, the guy who was supposed to come out here, cancelled at the last minute.”
“You mean...”
“Yeah. He was a no-show. Something about a family emergency.”
Blaine looked around for something to punch. But he could hardly start beating up the other travellers. “Give me a minute to think about this,” he said, trying to calm himself. “I suppose there’s nothing to prevent me from staying here. I’m just glad I told them to line up appointments for the first three weeks, instead of the entire two months.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah, I suppose it will work. I’ll go in tomorrow, get the lay of the land, and get back to you. Okay?”
“Sounds good. Sorry, man. How was the flight?”
“You don’t want to know.” Between the crying baby in the seat behind, and the delay in Calgary on the stopover, he was exhausted. But at least his bag had showed up and he strode toward it as they talked. “I’ll check with you tomorrow.”
Toronto was much as he remembered. He hadn’t been back for over five years, but the heat, crowds and frantic pace hadn’t changed. Blaine had grown up a few miles to the north, in the exclusive area of Rosedale, but the downtown area, where his hotel was located, had been his stomping grounds all those years ago. He returned to the streets now with a sense of familiarity, but without any desire to return permanently. These days, his roots were comfortably anchored in west coast soil; he smiled at the image. He’d make the best of his time here, even if he’d rather be home, mending fences.
At the thought of Ariana, his stomach clenched. When he’d walked into his cubicle and saw her there, he’d suddenly known what that corny old expression meant. His heart had actually leaped into his throat and he hadn’t been sure if he could speak. He couldn’t remember now what he’d said, but it must have been all right, because it wasn’t until later that she fled.
He would give anything to be able to replay their last few moments together, but when she’d announced her upcoming surgery, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Up until then, she’d been this ethereal, perfect being, and when she’d told him about her mastectomy, everything had changed. She’d suddenly become human. Shaun was right; Blaine didn’t know her, but in that moment he would have been willing to take her place on the operating table, if that were possible. A fanciful notion, but his desire to protect her grew stronger every time he thought about her, which was almost constantly. It was just as well he was committed to stay in Toronto for a month.
THE TORONTO SHOP WAS bright, professional and very busy. Blaine soon found himself immersed in some interesting projects, and he lengthened his workdays as he began to enjoy himself.
“So what do you think?” Gunnar entered his temporary cubicle and admired Blaine’s sketch for a project he was starting tomorrow. “How do you feel about staying the second month? Carly has a whole list of people who would like an appointment if you’re staying.”
In spite of the uncertain start to their relationship, the two artists had become friends.
Blaine didn’t have to consider. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.” He met the other man’s gaze and something unspoken passed between them. “Unfinished business to take care of.”
“I understand.” Gunnar pumped his hand. “Come back any time.”
Chapter Fourteen
ARIANA OPENED HER EYES. She wasn’t sure which was drier, her eyes or her mouth. Jackie was slouched in the large chair beside her bed, asleep. A small line of drool ran down the side of her chin and Ariana wished she could hand her grandmother a tissue; she wouldn’t like to be seen like that. But she couldn’t move. An unfamiliar pressure on her chest pinned her to the bed and she gave up fighting and fell back to sleep.
When she woke again, pale grey light seeped between the blinds of the hospital room. Jackie was still sitting in the chair, reading glasses perched on her patrician nose as she read something on her Kindle.
Ariana’s gaze swept around the room, familiarizing herself with her surroundings before engaging in conversation with her grandmother. No doubt Jackie would spring into action the moment she realized Ariana was awake, and this quiet moment would be over. Behind Jackie, on a broad ledge, several bouquets of flowers caught her attention. From Jodi, no doubt. And the office would send one, as would Jackie. Tucked in behind the large arrangements, an exquisite crystal bud vase held a single red rose. Could it possibly be?
She lifted a finger. “Flowers,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Jackie leaped up and leaned over the bed. “You’re awake,” she said, her eyes misty. “Shall I call the nurse?”
“Thirsty,” said Ariana, but her eyes remained on the flowers.
Jackie held a straw to her lips. “The flowers are lovely, aren’t they?” She waved a hand airily. “All the usual suspects.”
“Rose,” said Ariana between sips of water. If Jackie wanted her to work for it, she’d play along.
“Ah, yes. That one’s a bit of a mystery.” She turned and lifted it out from behind the others. “Beautiful crystal vase. Someone has good taste.”
“Where’s the card?” croaked Ariana. She tried to lift her arms but it felt as though someone had weighed them down.
Jackie reached in her pocket and pulled out a small white square. “I confiscated it,” she said with a smug smile. “Since it appears to be a private message.”
She held it up so Ariana could read. Bold, slanting letters conveyed a simple message:
Forgive me
Jackie turned the card over. It was blank.
Ariana let her head fall back on the pillow and closed her eyes. A tear ran down her cheek as she thought of him, but she was smiling. How many times over the past week had she told herself to forget him? Hundreds? But she hadn’t listened. Just as well, since her good intentions flew out the window at the sight of one single flower. She’d always known that forgetting Blaine Bennett wouldn’t be easy. And now she didn’t even want to try.
Jackie watched her granddaughter for a few moments. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” she murmured to herself, then rang the bell for the nurses.
ARIANA WAS UP AND WALKING by the time Jeremy arrived later in the afternoon. He stood tentatively in the open doorway with a flowering plant, and she was reminded of the young man who had come back from UBC after receiving his degree in Business Admin with an emphasis on marketing.
“Thank you, Jeremy.” She accepted the flowers with a smile. “I’ll take this home with me tomorrow.” She eased herself into a large, padded chair and indicated that he should take the chair opposite.
“Will you be all right?” He glanced around the room nervously. “I mean will you be able to take care of yourself?”
“Don’t worry,” she said with a wry smile. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ve hired someone to come in and stay with me for a couple of weeks.”
He lowered his voice. “I moved into one of the guest rooms so I won’t be bothering you at night.”
/>
You haven’t bothered me at night for a long time, she thought. I don’t even remember the last time.
“Do you mind?” he asked, and for a moment she wasn’t sure what he was referring to.
“About moving to the guest room?” She shook her head. “No, that’s fine.”
“We’ve grown apart,” he said, as though he’d just discovered that fact. “And now, with this...” He gestured toward her. “Everything is different.”
She was tempted to ask him what he meant, but this was neither the time nor the place to enter into a discussion which would inevitably end up as an argument. “You’re right,” she said. “Everything is different, but let’s discuss it at home, all right?”
“All right.” His cell phone chimed and he checked it. “I should take this” he said, and was deep into a conversation as he headed toward the hallway.
As he walked away, she tried to remember what had attracted her to Jeremy in those first heady days after he came back from University.
It occurred to her now that their families had assumed she and Jeremy would carry on the family business. Ariana had discovered that she had an aptitude for the business, and soon became the top listing agent in the office. Potential sellers as well as buyers were impressed with her honest, forthright approach. She never oversold, never misrepresented. Word spread quickly, and Ariana Ryan soon surpassed even her father’s sales records.
If Jeremy was jealous of her success, he hid it well. Their working partnership soon leveled out, with Jeremy handling the business end, balancing out Ariana’s sales efforts.
After a couple of years of long hours working together and heady financial success, marriage had seemed the next natural step. While their marriage hadn’t been as cut and dried as a real estate transaction, it came a close second.
Her gaze drifted back to the rose, and desire flooded her body. Life with Blaine would be anything but cut and dried. Closing her eyes, she pictured brooding eyes and sculpted lips. Did he know that a red rose symbolized love? She hoped she’d get a chance to find out.
