The guy started shaking his head. “I don’t want my tattoo to be all—”
“Shut up. It’s not like she can make you any uglier,” Lars said. The client paused for a second and then let out a resigned sigh before he fell silent.
“Pull up a chair,” Lars said, motioning to an extra that sat a few feet away.
She pulled the chair over anxiously. “Lars, I don’t know if I should—”
“Sit,” he said, a bit more forcefully but still not like he’d spoken to the client. She did and he grabbed the bottom of the chair and dragged her right up beside him.
He placed the gun in her hand and showed her how to hold it. “Did you see how I was shading the feathers?”
She nodded, remembering clearly what he’d done.
His finger pointed to a lower spot on the guy’s skin that only had an outline. “Try it here, in this part where I haven’t gotten to yet.”
She leaned in and the client, who’d been eyeing her up nervously, cringed and looked away, afraid to see what she’d do to his skin. She mimicked what Lars had been doing for a few minutes and then leaned back to appraise her work. She’d actually done a fairly good job.
She looked as Lars, who was reclining in his seat and nodding with a pleased look on his face. “I knew you could do it,” he said softly.
The client turned his head, peeking through squinted eyes. He made a hmmm noise, as if he was as surprised as she was. “Not bad.”
“Keep going,” Lars said.
She put the gun down, insisting she’d had enough for the day. She was positive if she remained that close to Lars she would botch the guy’s tattoo just from distraction.
He didn’t argue with her but he stopped smiling when she walked away.
***
That afternoon Lars was on his second client of the day, tattooing an enormous set of angel wings on the back of a girl who lay topless on his bench. His new client couldn’t seem to remember that she didn’t have a shirt on and kept accidentally flashing him as she leaned up. When she flashed him for the fifth time in under an hour he finally snapped at her.
Normally he’d enjoy the show, or at least have a small amount of patience for the interruptions. Today he was too consumed with watching the show Faith was putting on. She was making unusually loud noises as she inched closer and closer to his office. She paused, half in and half out of the door. He raised his eyebrows in a silent and? It wasn’t like she’d never gone in his office before.
He heard some loud clanking, as if she were trying to alert him to her shuffling through the things inside his office, as if he hadn’t just seen her go in. Then he heard her raised voice. “Wow, look at all this unorganized paperwork. I wonder why no one has taken care of it?”
He’d known she’d been distracted during lunch today. Now he knew why. She’d been eyeing up his chaotic piles of bills and invoices in between bites.
His normal accountant, a human who had accidentally rented space in the building the agency used, had left recently due to the uprisings and violence. He’d mysteriously won a trip for him and his family. The only real mystery was why Fate had taken such a liking to a human that he’d made the arrangements.
“I wonder if it’s because I don’t have an accountant anymore?” he asked, loud enough that she wouldn’t doubt he was speaking to her.
He heard more shuffling around before she walked out, her arms filled to the brim with books and papers. Again, being very obvious about her actions, her gathered booty was clearly displayed as she walked unnecessarily close to him while making an arc toward the front counter. As she passed by him, he did a subtle shrug.
She seemed very pleased with herself as she plunked down the armful of stuff on the counter. She looked so satisfied in fact that he had to hold back the laughter. She was welcome to them, but she wouldn’t look so happy shortly.
It only took about fifteen minutes for her to start shaking her head grumbling under her breath. Lucky for him, he could hear the words she was saying, idiot and moron being among the nicer ones. A few minutes after that, she started looking at him, still shaking her head. He raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand what baffled her.
When she started making sounds like she was in psychical pain, Lars had to stop tattooing because he couldn’t hold back the laughter.
“Get up. We’re done for the day,” Lars told his client, who blatantly flashed her bare chest at him again. He’d already seen it plenty. He wasn’t quite sure what she thought this last peep was going to do.
“Really? We’re done?” Her voice was thick with disappointment. She held her shirt to her front as she rose, covering the barest amount she could without being completely indecent. She stared up at him with large, soft brown eyes and a full pout. This was his cue when he’d normally bring her in his office, or upstairs if he was in the mood for a bed, and bang her.
His dick didn’t even twitch.
“Isn’t that what I just said?” He grabbed her purse for her and shoved it into her hand, trying to encourage a bit more expedience on her departure.
“But don’t you need to put something on my tattoo? Wrap it or something?” she asked.
“You people are ridiculous. ‘I want ointment. I want my tattoo wrapped,’” he said in a whiny voice. “Nobody gets babied here. Now get out.”
His client, in full simpering mode, slowly put her shirt on and made her way to the door as he walked over to Faith.
His full attention now on Faith, he watched as she flipped through his ledgers at an alarming rate, grumbling to herself as she went.
“Everything okay?” he asked, knowing the mess she was staring at.
She turned to him and opened her mouth but said nothing; she just kept shaking her head.
“You don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie down?” he asked with mock concern.
She started stabbing the open book with her finger. “How?”
“How what?” God, she was so cute, all riled up like this.
“How are you keeping your lights on?”
She had her hands on her hips, which were wrapped up nice and snug in dark denim. They were rounded and dipped in just the right amount towards her waist. He’d always liked short skirts and heels but it didn’t seem to matter what she wore. It was like she’d been built to his exact specifications.
“Well?” she asked, waiting for a reply.
“I don’t know? Maybe I paid the bill when I was drunk one night?” He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant when all he was thinking about was wrapping his hands around her small waist, lifting her onto the counter and stepping in between her legs. Why did she always have to look so damn adorable all the time?
“With what? The ink you buy is ridiculously expensive. You pay top dollar for everything in here. And don’t say you don’t, because I checked the prices on my phone. Your customers’ checks are bouncing left and right. And that’s if they get deposited! You’ve got a pile of checks shoved in here that are too old to even cash anymore!”
He watched her run a hand through that thick blonde hair of hers. He wondered what it would look like hanging down her bare back, or trailing over her full breasts. His hand itched to curl his fingers into it, take a large hank of it and yank her head back, lifting her face to his. He’d like to find out if she’d squirm against him or cling and let all her inhibitions fall away.
The alarming part was he found himself thinking back to how she looked when she slept. How he enjoyed seeing her sleep in his bed, like she was his and meant to be there. He’d never even let a woman stay over long enough for anything more than a catnap in between sessions before.
“Are you listening to me?” Her voice pitched higher. Not as high as it would of if he was having his way with her but enough to get his attention back to the fact she was speaking. “Lars?” It was an admonishment.
“Is there a Faith here?”