“But, Bree, we’re all doing this for Amber, remember?” Valerie says, using a tone one would reserve for toddlers or people with advanced dementia. “So we’llall havethe same tattoo on the back of our left shoulders, and everyone will see it when we stand at the front of the church?”
“Except under the heart everyone will have a different number,” Valerie adds.
“You get to be Bitch One, Bree. Bitch One is the best bitch,” Kandi says, tilting her head.
“We’ll be a united front,” Kandi says. “The tattoos show our undying faith in Amber and Dane’s love.”
“Gnarly idea, ladies,” surfer guy says, smiling up at us. “Matching tats on classy ladies like yourselves would be immeasurably hot.”
I level him with the same look I gave Isabelle when she used an entire tube of Vaseline to “wet her hair.” Surfer guy lowers his gaze back to the binders. One down, four idiots to go.
Quinn puts her hand on my arm. “Brianna, don’t youbelievein their love?”
No. No, I don’t. “Of course I believe in their love. In fact, I believe in it so much I know for sure the success of their marriage in no way hinges on me having a heart with a Celtic sisterhood knot in the centre on my shoulder. As lovely as it is, it’s a lot of money…and I’m a mum, so…”
“We’ll pitch in for yours,” Amber says, her face lighting up.
The rest of the girls nod enthusiastically, even though I can see on their faces that not one of them is actually excited about the thought of paying for my tattoo. Not that I blame them. I don’t want to pay for it, either.
“Sweetie, I’mreallynot a needle person, okay?”
Kandi grabs my forearm and sways. “That’s why you should have had more drinks at the restaurant.Nobody’sa needle person.”
“Well, actually I am,” Andy mutters.
Turning to the other girls, Kandi says, “I got this. You guys get started, I’ll take her somewhere and get her wasted. By the time we come back, it’ll be our turn.”
“No, thank you, Kandi,” I say, plucking her clammy fingers off my arm. “I will not get one here or there, I will not get one anywhere. Not on my arm. Not on my hip. Not in this place, not on a ship. I will not get a heart tattoo. I will not get one,” Running out of rhymes, I say, “But you ladies go ahead.”
Amber steps up directly in my face, tears filling her eyes. “Why can’t you do thisone thingfor me? You’re my sister. These tattoos are like saying you’re part of my tribe. You, of all people, should be proud to be in my tribe!”
Quinn leans over her shoulder and nods. “It’s the sisterhood of Amber.”
“Youhave to do this,” Kandi says. “I’m gonna make you do this because otherwise, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”
Seriously? “Yeah, I’m really not. I’ve actually never metanyonewho said they regrettednotgetting a tattoo.”
Randy Andy, who’s been staring silently from behind the counter this whole time, nods at me. “I shouldn’t say this, but I think she might be right there.”
I glance at him while my mind spins. I could either do the decent thing—thank him for helping me make my point, and hope the rest of the bridal party is swayed. Or I can do what any good attorney would do, and go for the jugular. I pick the second option. Holding up one finger, I begin my cross-examination. “Would you agree, sir, that you’ve occasionally had customers who come back in to ask how to get rid of their tattoo?”
“You mean because they didn’t like the artwork?”
“It’s a yes or a no, sir. Have you ever had a customer come back in because they wanted to get rid of a tattoo you gave them?”
“Yes, but—”
“Thank you for answering the question,” I say firmly. “You do have dissatisfied customers, don’t you, Andy? And not just once in a while. According to your rating on Google, nearly one in five people who come here leaves unhappy. Isn’t that right?”
“It’s not like that because—” he starts.
“Are you saying if I do a Google search of this establishment, I’ll find a higher rating?”
“No, but—”
I hold up one hand. “No further explanation needed. We get the point, sir.”
Surfer dude chimes in with, “You’re a hardass, lady.”
