Page 67 of Fallen Angel

Mallory still hesitates.

“You know what?” Carmel says. “I love that this piece has so much meaning for you two. You’d be surprised how many people come in here and get tattoos with barely any thought. So I’m excited about this art and I’m happy to let you be a part of the process.”

“Just think, Mal: How many times have you wanted to inflict pain on me? Now’s your chance.”

“Very funny.” If Carmel is willing to let her do it, and Alec trusts her to take a needle to his arm, who’s she to say no?

Carmel hands her a pair of blue nitrile gloves. Mallory pulls them on solemnly, as if she were about to perform surgery. Carmel moves aside to give Mallory access to the spot she needs to work on. She hands her the tattoo machine, and it’s surprisingly heavy.

“Put your foot on this pedal—press it to start the needle.”

“Oh my god,” Mallory says. She looks at Alec one more time—Are you sure? He gives her a wink: Go for it.

Mallory uses one foot to press the start pedal toward the floor, and it whirs to life. Slowly, she lowers the needle to Alec’s skin. She’s afraid to press too hard and hurt him, and ink sprays off the surface on contact, making it hard for her to see what’s happening. She releases the pedal and pulls the needle back, examining her handiwork. Sure enough, she’s created a small dot. With a deep breath, she restarts the tool, this time making a conscious effort to move the needle in a circular motion. After a few seconds, she checks her work again. Carmel wipes the area clean of excess ink to reveal the successful completion of the feather.

“Is it done?” she asks, amazed.

“It’s done,” Carmel says.

“Thanks. That’s something I’ll never forget.”

“Of course you won’t,” Alec says. “You’ll be looking at it for the rest of your life, too.”

“Oh, you think?” she says teasingly.

“I can only hope.”

“Is that so?” she says. Interesting.

Once the tattoo of Moxie is complete, Carmel cleans it and covers it with plastic wrap. Just as she’s giving Alec care instructions, the doorbell rings. Carmel excuses herself to go answer it.

“I can’t tell if this is the most romantic gesture or the craziest,” she says, sitting on the edge of his chair and kissing him lightly on the lips.

“Both?”

Then they perk up at the sound of Bette’s voice in the foyer.

“You expecting her?” Alec says.

“No. But I told her we were coming.”

Bette strides into the parlor, her high-heeled boots clacking on the hardwood floors.

“We need to talk,” she says.

Carmel is right behind her but then makes herself busy cleaning up her workstation.

“What’s wrong?” Mallory says. Clearly this isn’t good news.

“We were too late,” Bette says. “The deal is done: the Blue Angel is sold.”

Mallory looks at Alec, and he shakes his head in frustration.

“This is bullshit,” he says.

Then he grabs his coat and heads for the door.

Billy Barton is having a bad day.