Page 80 of Christmas with Four Tattoo Artists

Finn smirked, doing a mock twirl. "One night without denim and tattoos, just for you."

Rowan came prancing in, her little feet making soft sounds against the marble floor. She was wearing a flowing white gown, with delicate lace details, looking every bit the princess of the penthouse.

Julia scooped her up, her face lighting up. "How is it possible that you manage to look like every one of your daddies at the same time?" She chuckled, planting a soft kiss on Rowan's cheek. Our little girl giggled in response.

Dad followed her in, a large box in tow. With practiced ease, he began laying out copies of Julia's book. The matte black cover, embossed with a golden title, the edges bordered with classic tattoo styles: "From Ashes to Ink: My Life in Miami." Julia picked up a copy, her fingers tracing the title, emotion evident in her eyes.

"You've earned this," I whispered into her ear, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. The other guys nodded in agreement, forming a protective circle around her.

"To think," Finn began, his voice deep and ruminative, "that we're all a part of this story."

Julia took a deep breath, blinking back tears. "Couldn't have written it without each and every one of you."

Rowan, in her adorable gown, broke the silence, curiously tugging at Dad’s tuxedo jacket.

"Why're you dressed like that, Grampy Jack?" she inquired, the usual spark of mischief in her eyes.

Dad knelt down to her level, a playful grin on his face. "Well, little raven, we're having a party, and for parties, sometimes we dress up all fancy."

Rowan looked at James and then to Finn. "Are you all gonna dance like the people on TV?"

James chuckled, lifting her onto his hip. "Only if you lead the way. Think you can show us some moves?"

She giggled, nodding confidently. "Mmm-hmm! But you can’t be too slow! I’m a super-fast dancer.”

Andrew, overhearing the conversation while adjusting his cufflinks, smirked. "I think between all of us, Finn's got the best moves."

Finn feigned shock, hand over his heart. "I'm honored. Though, watch it, or I might just steal the spotlight tonight."

Before anyone could say another word, the doorbell rang. This time, it was the caterers, wheeling in trays upon trays of gourmet delicacies and bottles of champagne. The room was soon filled with the clinking of glasses and the rich aroma of food.

Maddie darted in behind them, helping coordinate the setup. "These book snob types are in for a treat tonight!" she exclaimed, eyeing the spread approvingly. Jace, her artist beau of a year now, entered behind her. Just like us, Jace was the type of guy not exactly comfortable in a tux, his long hair pulled into a ponytail. He flashed us a smile and a shrug, and we nodded back, letting him know we were all feeling like fish out of water.

Julia squeezed my hand, her earlier secret momentarily forgotten in the whirlwind of the evening's preparations. And as everyone busied themselves, ensuring everything was perfect for the evening, I couldn't help but marvel at our shared journey.

Before we knew it, the place was ready and the guests began arriving. The sophisticated hum of conversation and clinking glasses filled the room. Guests came in droves, and while the guys and I were no strangers to a crowd, this was an entirely different scene. Writers, journalists, literary critics…definitely not what we were used to. We stuck out like tattooed thumbs amidst the black ties and gowns, but we made the best of it.

James, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaned in to whisper, "I swear, if one more person asks me if my tattoos are real..."

I chuckled, patting him on the back.

Our light banter and drinks in hand helped us navigate through the night. The guys and I moved through the room, making the rounds, perhaps at times laughing a bit louder than the rest, but keeping the atmosphere alive and electric.

Eventually, a tall, graceful woman with silver hair and sharp eyes stepped forward, clinking her glass. The din of the party settled into a hush, the volume of the music decreasing until there was total silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention," she began. It was Diane Schwartz, Julia's editor, evidently a huge name in the New York literary scene. "I've had the pleasure of working with many authors in my time, but few have captured the raw, unfiltered essence of life the way Julia has inFrom Ashes to Ink. Her words don't just paint a picture; they immerse you, drown you in the depths of emotion, and uplift you all at once. It's been an honor, truly, to be a part of this journey."

A ripple of applause washed over the crowd, but Diane raised her hand for silence. "Now, while tonight is certainly a celebration of Julia's triumphs, there's one more piece of news. I'm thrilled to announce that Julia's work is being considered for the prestigious Peabody Award."

The room erupted in applause, with the loudest cheers undoubtedly coming from our corner. Julia looked stunned, her face pale but eyes shining, lost for words. We were all ecstatic, pride swelling in our chests.

As the night wore on, music and laughter continued to fill the air, but for little Rowan, it was well past her bedtime. Dad, with the practiced ease of a doting grandfather, gently lifted her into his arms, and we all made our way to her room.

Tucking her in, Julia whispered a lullaby, brushing strands of hair from Rowan's face. Each of us leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Night, little one," I murmured, my tough exterior softening just for her, as it always did.

With Rowan sound asleep, Dad headed back downstairs, and the gang and I made our way to the penthouse's highest point—a secluded spot that offered a panoramic view of Miami's glittering skyline. Away from the clamor of the party, we could have our private conversation, our moment of reflection on the whirlwind journey we'd been through.

Amidst the neon glow of the Miami skyline, our group huddled together, the wind brushing past as we gathered in our new favorite spot atop the penthouse. James was the first to break the silence, his eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement. "Alright, before Jules dives into her news, we've got something to share." He grinned, pausing for dramatic effect.

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