Page 28 of Turn

CHAPTER NINE

I was starting to wish my job kept me a little busier.

If I were in constant motion it wouldn’t be so hard to distract myself from the sight of Curtis Mulligan’s muscled arms.

I was pretty sure Curtis knew exactly what he was doing, edging close to the counter and leaning forward while his voice dropped several octaves, oozing sex and confidence. My mistake was letting on that I noticed when he lurched through the door this morning looking sleepless and disreputable, like he’d just spent the last eight hours rolling around in a cathouse.

At least he had no way of knowing what was running through my head when he got close. I was confident in my ability to put on a damn good poker face when I had to. Anyway, I wasn’t truly interested in Curtis. The guy was surly and possibly dangerous and I’d bet my car that he wasn’t too choosy about where he stuck his dick.

However, I couldn’t deny that Curtis Mulligan was also hot as hell. And just because I didn’t especially like talking to him didn’t mean that I could ignore the way he looked. He had nothing in common with the sleek and smooth shaven guys who usually caught my eye. Curtis was all rough edges and raw power. He’d probably never look comfortable in a suit and tie, not even if he shaved, slicked his straw-colored hair back and sustained an immense attitude adjustment.

Strangely enough, my dad seemed to like him. Maybe Curtis reminded him of his youth since they’d come from the same place. Good old crappy Emblem. My dad tended to have a soft spot for anyone who was making an effort to overcome his past. I heard them laughing together down the hall in my dad’s office and I kind of wondered what they were talking about. When I mentioned that Curtis would be glad to clean the Scratch restrooms I was being kind of a bitch but I was annoyed by the way he looked at me, like I was an easy puzzle he’d already solved. It didn’t matter though. Curtis called my bluff on the bathroom bit with a sincere statement about how happy he’d be to clean the muck out of every corner of the building and my dad was charmed.

I wasn’t so charmed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been trying to mock me. I could be wrong. But Curtis didn’t bring out the best in me and I ought to keep my distance from him. I was still flustered after the confrontation with the detestable Parker Neely. I didn’t need to make any new enemies.

The next time Curtis took a stroll through the lobby en route to the back rooms he kept his head down, which was kind of a relief since our conversations didn’t end up being the high point of my day. Hopefully we’d learn to coexist in the confines of Scratch without our personalities colliding too often.

As soon as Curtis disappeared, a woman around my mom’s age came through the doors. She’d just lost her husband in a car accident and she wanted to get a tattoo depicting the date of their wedding anniversary. They’d been together since high school. They had two teenage daughters. Her husband, Tim, had always dreamed of owning a boat someday.

I didn’t know why she felt like she had to tell me all this but I was glad to listen if she needed to talk. That was something I was actually good at, listening. Sometimes people just needed someone to listen, even just for a few minutes.

As if answering my earlier wish to be busier, the phone rang eight times over the next half hour. Scratch took walk in customers all the time but often people would request a particular artist and that meant an appointment was required.

I was in the middle of trying to navigate the screens in the scheduling system when I became aware that a new customer had entered the building. I looked up, intending to smile a greeting, conveying I would be right with the new customer as soon as I was finished with the one on the phone.

That smile never happened once I saw who had really walked in. And it wasn’t a customer.

“Next Tuesday at three,” I said to the woman on the phone. My voice betrayed nothing of the red rage quickly overcoming me. “We look forward to seeing you then.”

I made sure the call was disconnected before I spoke.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Parkey Neely looked pained, nervous. His hands were in shoved in the pockets of his khaki pants and he approached slowly. “I’m so sorry to just barge in here, Cassie. I really wanted to talk to you and I wasn’t sure you’d show up for class again.”

“Screw that,” I sneered. “You think you can drive me out of school again so easily?”

He shook his head. “No, I just-“

“Because I’m not seventeen anymore, you asshole.” I was standing now. “And I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

His expression was miserable. “Please just give me five minutes and I swear you won’t have to see me again.”

“I don’t want to see you now.”

Parker winced. “Look, I’ll even drop that statistics class if it will make you more comfortable.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you do, Parker.”

“Cassie?”

That wasn’t Parker’s suave, buttery voice.

Curtis was back. He kept a watchful eye on Parker as he drew closer, his eyes already narrowed with dislike.

“You need me to move this guy out of here?” he said, addressing me while keeping his hardened gaze fastened on Parker. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that gaze. Parker didn’t appear too excited about it either. He backed up a few inches as Curtis closed in.

“I think he was just leaving,” I told Curtis.

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