Free Draw Me In by Regina Cole Regina Cole

hell to keep the laughter out of my voice. “I’m just going to do a little adjustment to your symbol here. Make it prettier for you guys. By the way, where’d you get this kanji?”
    “Oh, Mel’s old neighbor is Japanese. He drew it for us, which was really nice, since they haven’t gotten along very well in the past.”
    I nodded sagely. “That explains it.”
    Thanks to Hailey’s well-timed interjection, instead of the “drunk whore” tattoo that they’d brought in, Roger would be putting the requested “sexy” mark on each hip.
    As Roger disappeared into his studio with the four gorgeous girls draped over him and the correct symbol in his hands, I turned to Hailey. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed out here with you for the first customers.”
    Hailey shook her head, sending her long chocolate-dark hair swinging. “No, it’s fine. You’ve got stuff to do.”
    I crossed my arms, settling back against the desk. “So nothing happened with that big dude first thing?”
    Hailey went pale as snow. “Did Frankie say something?”
    “Frankie?” I shook my head. “No, why?”
    Hailey’s blush would have been endearing if it didn’t worry me so much. “Just a little misunderstanding. I need to apologize to him.”
    My hand fell atop the counter. “Go ahead. I’ll cover the front.”
    “No way. I’m not going in there until I know he’s not, uh, busy.” Hailey turned her back and started rummaging in the bag she kept stowed under the desk. “It’s not a big deal.”
    I sat silent, watching as she fumbled in the bag and pulled out a small unmarked bottle. My stomach tensed involuntarily, and I gripped my arms as I watched her tap out two little white pills. My knuckles went white, and it was a fight to keep my voice level. “Whatcha got there?”
    She glanced up at me, confusion plain in her gaze. “Tylenol. I’m getting a headache. Did you need some?”
    I shook my head, doing my damnedest to keep the worry and anger shoved deep down.
    She popped the pills into her mouth, tilting her head back as she swallowed. I stared as she did it, unable to look away. Just Tylenol, my mind replayed her words, trying to get my damn guts to unknot. Just a little painkiller, totally innocent.
    “Ugh, they’re sticking in my throat,” Hailey rasped. “I’m going to grab a water really quick. Mind watching the desk?”
    I shook my head, then watched as she disappeared around the corner. Once she was gone, I moved like a shot.
    Yanking her bag from its hiding place, I rifled through it like a pickpocket, my hand closing on the small bottle almost instantly. Jerking it free of the bag, I popped the top off, nearly cracking the plastic in my frantic haste. I dumped the bottle’s entire contents into my shaking palm.
    The white cylindrical pills lay there innocently, about half of them turned right side up, with reddish-pink letters declaring that she’d told me the truth. “Tylenol.”
    I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the iron grip around my lungs would let go. It was fine. Everything was fine. My hand shook harder as I replaced the pills and closed the bottle. Carefully, almost reverently, I replaced Hailey’s bag in its hiding space. Gripping the counter as I sank back against it, I concentrated on slowing and evening my rough, ragged breaths.
    She was just my employee, but that didn’t matter. She was a nice girl, a beautiful girl, and even the barest thought that she’d have drugs had driven me half insane.
    Gretchen used to say that: “It’s just Tylenol, babe.” She’d laugh. “Just ibuprofen. I’ve got cramps.” And then an hour after, she’d be out of her fucking mind on Oxy, or Ecstasy, or whatever the hell. And later, she didn’t even try to hide it. She didn’t give a fuck about herself, or me, or anything. Except the drugs.
    I should apologize to Hailey for going through her things.
    I should apologize for going mental.
    I should apologize for it all, but I wouldn’t. Apologies