I tell him about what happened with Clarissa’s father. Waylon listens without moving, and he’s quiet long enough that I know he’s not going to sugarcoat what he has to say.
“She safe?”
“Yes, she’s at a friend’s place.”
Waylon’s voice is low and unhurried. “I don’t want King Ink becoming the scene of somebody’s family drama. You told me what happened. I understand it. But I will not have my shop caught up in the middle of it. If you’re going to be with this girl, you need to figure that shit out. You and she need to find a way to make it work with her father.”
I turn my beer glass on the table and keep seeing her face at the counter. The bruises blossoming on her arm. She looked her father in the eye and saidthese are good menand didn’t flinch. To the man who raised her.
She’s not a woman who needs me to decide what’s best for her. She’s the woman I want in my corner for the rest of my life. But I know the reasons I shouldn’t want her—she’s young, she’s the pastor’s daughter. She’s the opposite of me in every way imaginable.
“I’m not going to blow up what you trusted me to build.”
He cuts me off with one hand. “You know Angelica and I had problems between our families.” They’ve only been married a few years now, but they have a long history between them and a generations-old family feud that kept them apart for decades. “We had to work through a lot before we could move forward, and it’s still taking time for our families to be civil. You and Clarissa have to do the same thing.”
I drop my head and nod. This is something I know, though I have no fucking idea how to fix this.
Waylon stands up to leave and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Figure this out. I appreciate you keeping me informed, but remember that you have to resolve this. Either you work it out, or you both have to find new jobs.”
I flinch, even though I know he’s right. “I understand, Waylon. Thanks for coming down.”
Every atom in my body wants to go to Clarissa, take her in my arms, and protect her forever. The way she stood apart from me after her father left, it killed me not to hold her, but I realized she needed space. And as much as it pains me, I’ll give her all the space she needs. I’m not going anywhere.
CHAPTER 8
CLARISSA
Biscuit is a warm loaf of dog on my feet, chin between his paws, and he’s so cute it makes my heart ache. Margot is cross-legged on the other end with a mug of coffee, and she’s waiting me out.
I sip my coffee and try not to wince. Margot uses the cheap grounds and too much water, and I love her for a thousand reasons, but her coffee isn’t one of them.
“Have you decided if you want to talk to your dad?”
I look at the bruises on my arm and gently touch the edges. Five oval smudges, going purple at the edges, the exact width and spacing of my father’s fingers.
“I don’t know what I’d say.” My voice is steadier than yesterday. Though nearly anything is better than yesterday. “The last time I saw him, he was gripping my arm in front of five men and calling me a disgrace. He basically disowned me.”
“Okay, but hear me out.” Margot sets her mug on the arm of the couch. “You also need to talk to Carmine.”
“I know.”
“Do you? He stepped between you and your father, the whole crew lined up behind him, and then you came here and haven’t called him.”
“I don’t know what to—”
“Clarissa.” She takes my face in both hands. “You don’t have to have the perfect speech ready. You just have to pick up the phone. It’s obvious you have feelings for him. And he stood up for you.”
I pull back. Not because she’s wrong, but knowing what I should do and being able to do it are not the same thing right now. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” I press my thumb into my finger pad under the blanket. “Because if I call him, I have to know what I’m telling him. Am I coming back to the shop? Am I coming back tohim? Are those the same things?”
Margot pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around them.
“You know you don’t have to choose between your dad and Carmine, right?”
I nod but look away. Her comment is sincere, but I don’t think she fully understands how serious my father is about basically disowning me if I don’t do what he wants. “It sure doesn’t feel like that. My father is the one who said I couldn’t go home if I worked at King Ink, Margot. He made it a choice. Not me.”
