I’m sitting in Dad’s office discussing my schedule for the next few weeks when his cell rings. I watch as he checks the screen and a smile breaks across his face. Mom.
He answers. I continue to look at the schedule and compare it to the Self Expressions client schedule in my phone.
“Can you help Tatum move into your sister’s this weekend?” he asks me.
My head snaps up.
Tatum.
I’ve tried unsuccessfully to not think about her since the party yesterday. “Sure,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I’m trying to hide the fact that the thought of spending the day with her excites me.
Dad passes the information along to Mom. I hear him tell her he loves her too and put his phone back on the desk.
I focus my attention on the schedule. I can feel him watching me. “Have you thought any more about what we talked about last night?” he asks.
“Nothing but,” I say with a sigh.
Dad nods his head in approval and resumes our conversation about the schedule.
After Dad and I get the schedule worked out, I quickly say goodbye and head to the shop. I have a full client load today.
Walking into the shop, I see there is no one at the counter. We really need to hire someone to replace Ember. I head back to my station and set up for my first client. The schedule says Misty and rose tattoo. I hear the chime over the door, and Asher’s voice greets the visitor. I continue my setup.
“Hey, man, your client’s here,” Asher says in the doorway.
“Thanks. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Asher chuckles, “Good luck with this one, bro. I can already tell you’re going to have your hands full. Your last client is at five, just in case you need to make plans,” he says, wagging his eyebrows at me.
I don’t know why, but that irritates me. Unless a five foot five beauty with locks of silky dark hair and sparkling green eyes is on my schedule, it’s not going to happen.
I finish setting up my gun and walk out to the reception area to call back my client, Misty with the rose.
“Misty,” I say to get her attention.
She licks her lips as she walks toward me. Great, here we go. I really don’t feel like dealing with her, but what choice do I have? I’m just glad Asher is in the next room and we’re not here alone.
“Have a seat.” I motion to the table. “So it says here you want a rose. Do you have anything in particular in mind, and what location were you thinking?” I ask, getting right down to business.
Misty pulls a small piece of paper out of her bra and winks at me. Yeah, that’s not really doing it for me. In the past when this kind of thing would happen, I would just chalk it up to another easy lay. They’re all the same. Things have changed; I don’t want an easy lay. I refuse to think about why that is.
I slip on my gloves before taking the paper from her hand. I can tell by the look in her eyes and the small pfft sound she makes that I’ve offended her. I’m not going to be losing any sleep over it.
I take the paper to my desk in the corner and begin to draw up a design. We get a lot of request for roses, so this is a quick process for me. Once I’m finished, I show Misty the design.
“I love it. It’s sexy, just like you,” she says with a purr.
Really? I ignore her statement and begin to cup up the ink colors I’ll be using. Once I have everything ready, I turn to Misty. “All right, so where do you want it,” I ask her.
Misty licks her lips and trails her hand over her crotch, up her stomach, and onto her right breast. “How about right here,” she purrs.
I have to fight against rolling my eyes at her. She’s not sexy; she’s easy. Easy used to be enough; not anymore. Visions of Tatum last night flash through my mind. I push them down and regain my focus on Misty and her rose tattoo. The sooner I get her out of here, the better.
Unfortunately for me, Misty wants the rose placed on her left breast. This means I will have to touch her…there. Normally this would be a good thing. I’ve never minded touching the many women’s body parts that come through the shop, but tonight, I’m just not feeling it. Thank God, it’s a small piece and I can have her out of here in less than thirty minutes.
Misty pulls her tank top over her head. She reaches to unhook her bra and I stop her.
“That’s not necessary for the placement,” I tell her.
Again with the pfft sound. Whatever.
I place the transfer paper and hand her a mirror. She agrees with the placement and I get right to work.
“So what time do you get off tonight?” she asks me.
“Not until later. Asher and I have a family thing,” I tell her. I wish she would just not talk. That wish goes unanswered.
“What about after?”
“It will be a while,” I reply without looking at her.
“Hmpf. I was told you were a sure thing,” she scoffs.
My temper is flaring by this point. Who the hell is this chick? “Well, you were given false information. I’m taken.” The words spill out of my mouth before I even realize what I’m saying. Asher clears his throat behind me.
I lift my gun from Misty’s breast and turn to look at him. “I’m going to run next door, want anything?” he asks, smirking.
Great, he heard me.
“Yeah, pick me up a sweet tea will you?” I ask him, ignoring the fact he heard me tell Misty I’m taken.
I turn back around and resume Misty’s tattoo. She doesn’t try to make conversation and neither do I. Asher walks in just as I give her the care instructions.
“What about you, sugar, you free tonight?” she asks in what I can only guess is a voice that is meant to be sultry. Yeah, it’s not.
Asher throws his head back in laughter. “Hell, no. I’m unavailable,” he tells her.
Misty smirks. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she tells him.
“All right, this one’s on the house; time for you to go,” I say, standing up so she can get off the table.
Misty stands and her mouth is gaping open. She looks like a fish. “Well, whatever!” she says as she storms out of the building.
Asher finally composes himself and plops down on the table.
“Dude, I just cleaned that,” I tell him.
“Chill out,” he replies. “So you’re a taken man, huh?”
I give him the look. You know the ‘shut the f*ck up, you’re on my last nerve’ look. “I had to shut her up,” I tell him through gritted teeth.
“Hmmm,” Asher says, tapping his index finger against his chin. “Are you sure this has nothing to do with a dark haired beauty who seems to have attracted your attention?” he says slyly.
“This has nothing to do with Tatum,” I grit out.
“How do you know I was talking about Tatum? There is a harem of dark haired beauties who come through these doors,” he quips.
“Shut it,” I tell him.
“Bro, she seems like a great girl. She’s not like the harem; she’s different,” he says, growing serious.
“Yeah, she’s my Grace,” I mumble under my breath.
Asher sits up. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, dude. What did you say?” he asks again.
I shake my head no and continue to clean up.
“You don’t have to repeat it because I heard you. I just wanted to hear you admit it again, louder,” he says.
I remain silent, still just cleaning up my area.
“Blaise,” Asher says my name in a tone where I know he’s being serious. “If what you said is true, if Tatum is your Grace,” a huge grin crosses his face from just speaking her name, “hold on tight with everything you’ve got. That doesn’t happen twice in a lifetime.”