Page 5 of Daddy's Bliss

I smile. “I’ve been told that by one or two people.”

Bliss returns the smile, not fully, but enough to give me a hint of how adorable she must be when she’s happy. “I’m sure you have,” she says. “I bet you hear a lot of stories.”

“Stories, confessions…sometimes I feel like a therapist.”

“Well, that’s probably because you’re a helpful person.” She looks down. “A nice person. I wish I was.”

“You don’t think you are?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks away, then her shoulders begin to shake.

“It’s okay,” I say, and put my arm around her. “Hey, now. Hey…” I reach into my pocket for a handkerchief and hand it to her. “Listen. Do you mind if I take you home? I’d really rather not put you in an Uber like this.”

“You’ve done enough…”

“I insist. You can trust me.”

She looks at me through her tears and then nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Come on.” I stand and hold out my hand. She takes it and we leave Quincy’s right at last call.

Chapter three

BLISS

I’ll never drink again.

That was my first thought this morning when I opened my eyes and the shaft of light felt like a cleaver slicing through my brain. My second thought was of Tandy. As I forced myself to down a protein shake, I replayed what I remembered of the previous night. The drinking that started at seven, the weird power I felt when guys looked at me with longing, the validation that someone found me desirable, but then the weird revulsion when they hit on me. I didn’t want to go home with anyone. I’d just wanted to ride the wave of feeling desirable to the tattoo shop and lay there feeling triumphant as I got the footnote of my failed relationship stamped onto my skin.

It didn’t work out that way. More bits and pieces float back – hoodie guy making me feel uneasy when I took a break to smoke. The outburst in the tattoo shop. More shots at that tavern. Tandy saving me from hoodie guy who’d obviously been watching me. Tandy driving me home. Tandy tucking me in. Tandy making me feel safe.

My normal, cowardly style would be to avoid the person who saw me at my lowest, sorriest state. But I owe Tandy for what she did for me despite my rudeness. I’d wanted to make some sort of gesture of appreciation.

Flowers? I could get a nice bouquet at cost from work, but she doesn’t seem like the flower type and, besides, she might think that was weird. I try to guess what she’d like. She’s artsy and self-assured and interesting in a way I’m not used to.

She seems like someone who would drink a lot of coffee. I don’t know why I think this; maybe it’s because so many creative people hang out in coffee shops, so I stop by the one near my apartment and use my card to buy a Van Gogh mug and a bag of organic beans before heading over to Artful Ink. I tell myself thanking her in person is good manners, but the truth is, I want to see her again.

At the tattoo shop, Green Eyes—Inez—is behind the counter, only today her contacts aren’t green. They’re an unnatural turquoise. She glowers at me with undisguised disgust.

“Back for your tattoo?” she asks coldly.

“No.” I look around. “Is…um…is Tandy here?”

“She’s in the back.”

“Is she busy?”

Inez sighs and gets up. “I’ll check,” she says like it’s the biggest inconvenience of her life.

She’s gone for fifteen minutes and seems disappointed to find that I’m still waiting when she returns. “She says you can come on back. Last room on the right.”

The hallway past the double doors is long and narrow and lined with little rooms where other artists are busy working on customers. Before reaching the last room, I stop to look at the pictures covering the wall. Some are of Tandy and some are of other people. One holds my attention. It’s Tandy in a leather body suit, her arms crossed in front of her. In one hand, she’s holding a pair of handcuffs, in the other a small riding crop. Something in her expression sends weird little shivers through my body.

“Bliss?”

I startle at the sound of her voice. She’s standing outside the doorway.

“Oh, sorry. I was just…” I glance back at the photo then tear my gaze away, hoping she doesn’t notice.

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