It was ten-forty-five at night and business was slow on the street.<br/><div class="bbm_float fright" style="float:right;margin:0 0 5px 10px">
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</div>While the spring-hinged outer and inner gates were magnetically locked, the front door was propped open. Two security cameras, one which was hidden, kept a record of people that came into the shop. No one was allowed to pass through the inner gate without stopping to have the image of their naked face recorded on the camera. There were three silent alarm switches, cunningly disguised that could easily be activated. Then there were the stickers in the window and the sign that announced that there was a security camera system and an alarm system. This gave Scarlet some sense of security, in that it be something of a deterent to things going badly or that if she did get herself killed that whoever did it would likely get caught.<br/><br/>'<i>It's too damn hot for this time of the night</i>', thought Scarlet, trying to relax in the storefront of her shop, "Eenc-Sleengers Tattoo Parlor". Mike, the other artist that worked in her shop was out of town on a family emergency. She'd considered closing down her parlor while he was gone but there was the rent to pay as well as other bills, like fixing the air conditioning. Right now, the only relief Scarlet had were the three oscillating fans (two fixed in two of the room's upper corners and one on a portable stand).<br/><br/>"Dumb Bitch," Scarlet called to her re-named smart speaker, "play songs by Santana." A few seconds later and the sound system began to play, 'Smooth', loud enough to comfortably fill the shop and spill out a little onto the sidewalk, but not so loud that she'd have to shout if people came inside to talk.<br/><br/>Under an open short red satin robe, the dirty-blonde haired woman was dressed in a black bikini bra, a lightweight black skirt that stopped at the top of her knees and black low-heeled leather sandals. A person looking in through the shop window would see that her face was one of the few places where she was not inked. In the little kitchenette chair, next to the tiny coffee table, she stretched out her trim, five foot six inch frame. She twisted the top off of a bottle of iced coffee and took a sip.<br/><br/>Maybe she would close up for the night, soon? If a customer did show up, unless they insisted on getting inked tonight, Scarlet would probably ask them to come back tomorrow....