Jay Crownover - Nash

Rule let out a low whistle as we walked through the empty space that was going to be the home of the new shop. Time just kept rolling on, and before I knew, months had come and gone and I still hadn’t been to the place. Now I felt like a loser because it was epic and it was sandwiched between two of the busiest restaurants in LoDo, across the street from a popular sports bar, right around the corner from all the coffee shops and boutiques that drew people to LoDo in the first place. It was right in the heart of the thriving city and way more stylish and trendy than the Marked was. I felt seriously out of my depth here.

I rubbed the back of my neck and looked at Rule out of the corner of my eye. We didn’t exactly fit in here, and I had no idea how he and I, two beer and chicken-wings dudes, were supposed to make a place that looked like mimosas and caviar a moneymaking business. I felt like we were scaring the locals just by being here, and there was so much work to be done. All of it was overwhelming.

Before Phil had tied us into the place, it had been some kind of exotic tea and coffee shop. It wasn’t in any way set up to be a tattoo parlor, which is why Rule and I had taken the afternoon off to get the lay of the land and meet Rowdy’s friend so he could look the place over and tell us what he thought about it all. I thought it seemed like a long shot, but Rule was intrigued by it and he was totally on board with Rowdy’s idea about expanding what we did and turning the upstairs into a retail store. Besides, I owed Phil nothing less than making his dream a reality.

“We are going to turn this into such a badass shop.” Rule sounded so sure of that.

I wish I had his enthusiasm, and admittedly some of my hesitation came from the fact that Phil’s health was steadily declining. I was watching the disease wither him away, and there was nothing I could do about it. So investing in this shop, getting excited about it the way Rule was, seemed to me like I wasn’t even waiting until Phil was gone to act on his wishes. Plus he was still pushing me to ask my mom for answers to all the questions I had, and I didn’t want to waste any of the time we had left arguing about it with him.

“I feel like we’re going to need to offer our clients infused water and hot towels, as swanky as this location is.”

Rule laughed and walked to the glass door at the front to let in the guy who knocked. They shook hands, and now that I could put a name to the face, I knew I had seen him in Rowdy’s chair more than once. Zeb Fuller was a big dude with dark hair and a serious, unsmiling face. This wasn’t a guy that looked like he had ever lived life easy and carefree. He had Rowdy’s signature old-school style of tattooing scrolled all along both sides of his neck and peeking out of the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt.

He walked over and shook my hand as well and let his gaze search the mostly empty space. He totally looked like the kind of guy that could tear the place apart with his bare hands and then build it back up. I could see why Rowdy recommended him.

“Swanky digs.”

I chuckled at hearing my thoughts spoken aloud.

“Yeah.”

“So you want it gutted and made to look like the other shop? What exactly is the idea?”

Rule and I shared a blank look and then I shrugged.

“I have no idea. It needs to be a functional shop. It has to have room for at least six artists to work and a piercing room that’s closed off from the rest of the space. We need a front desk and a waiting area and upstairs is offices, but we were thinking about turning it more into a store.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes moving around the space. I looked at Rule, who looked back at me and shook his head. I snorted out a laugh.

“Is it obvious we have no idea what we’re really doing?” I felt like I had to ask.

Zeb cracked a grin, which made him look less intimidating. “Well, with a cherry location like this, you don’t really have to do much. People will come in and check it out just because of where it’s at, and if you add shopping to the mix …” He whistled through his teeth. “You’re gonna make bank.”

We walked with him through the rest of the space, and I was blown away by how much of it there was. The Marked was a pretty big shop. I mean, none of us ever tripped over the others and the waiting area comfortably held up to ten people at a time, but this place doubled that. I had no idea how I was supposed to manage something like that, let alone remodel and staff it. I felt a slow burn work up the back of my neck.

At the end of the tour, we ended back on the main level of the shop, and Zeb was writing things down on a pad of paper he had produced from out of nowhere. Rule was asking him questions and I was just standing there feeling useless and panicked. Zeb looked up and took in my expression.

“I’ll draw some stuff up, put together a couple quotes. What’s the time frame?”

I sighed. “Well, Cora’s gonna have to be in on the hiring and the actual business setup and she’s due fairly soon, so like maybe May?” I didn’t even know when I needed to have the place open by. I sucked at being a business owner. “That gives her time to be at home with the baby while remodeling is going on.”

Rule nodded. “Yeah, I would think May would be good, we would be open for a lot of the summer tourist business then.”

Zeb made a couple more notes and muttered something under his breath. He gave a quick nod then stuck the pen he was using behind his ear.

“It’s gonna be some work, not gonna shit you, but this is a great space and I think with minimal effort I can give you something that reflects what you guys are about but also fits in with what the downtown crowd looks for as well.”

“Sounds perfect.” Rule and I agreed.

“I’ll touch base after I get some ideas on paper, and we can talk firmer time lines and budgets. I know Rowdy threw my name in the ring, but I appreciate the shot.”

Rule lifted the eyebrow that had the studs in it and ran his tongue over his lip ring.

“Any friend of Rowdy’s …”

Zeb barked out a laugh that had no humor in it. “Yeah, Rowdy’s a good dude and I appreciate he doesn’t hold my past against me. Neither does Wheeler.” He dropped the mechanic’s name as I tilted my head a little to consider the common connection we shared.

“The past?” I had to ask.

He sighed and that massive chest that looked like he regularly did bench presses with a Buick rose and fell.

“I shouldn’t say anything because it’s cost me more than one job, but if we’re gonna work together, you might as well know that I served time. I got out over two years ago, but I have a record.”

“Served time for what?” Rule’s tone was sharp, but we both knew Rowdy wouldn’t send us anyone that was a danger to the business or anyone’s safety.

“Assault. I made some bad choices, and I paid for them.”

Well, that wasn’t awesome, but none of us were strangers with the other side of the law. Hell, less than a year ago Jet had gotten locked up for a day for beating the crap out of his dad. Granted, the old bastard deserved it and way worse, so the lot of us tended not to pass judgment when it came to past mistakes.

I told him simply, “As long as you can do the job and the price is fair, I don’t care about what happened in the past. Our working relationship is all about what’s going on in the here and now.”

He seemed to take my words at face value and we all exchanged business cards. He left and Rule and I walked out to the front of the building so I could lock the door.

“What do you think?” Rule’s tone was curious.

“I think I want a cigarette.”

He cut me a dirty look and followed me to where the Charger and his truck were parked on the street.