Page 191 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“Good.” He leans forward in his chair. “Jenna’s coming in for an hour or so to show you the computer booking system and how we take payments. Then Ken is going to show you how to set up a station because you’ll be responsible for keeping our stations prepped.”

“That’s similar to what I had to do at artWORX and the salon, so it’ll be easy to pick up.” I’m confident I can learn this job quickly.

“Good. In between answering phones and dealing with clients for their appointments, you can observe Ken and me as we work.” My heart skips a beat at the thought of starting my training. “We’ll explain what we’re doing while you observe and if you have questions, be sure to ask them. Remember, there is no such thing as a stupid question.” He raises his dark brows and I nod. “You can have your phone with you, but I don’t want to see you scrolling social media. There’s always something that needs to be done around here.”

“Yes, boss!” I salute him, to lighten the mood. His eyes widen slightly and his mouth twitches, almost like he’s trying to hold back a smile.

Pushing to stand, he grabs his coffee and steps from behind his desk. “All right. I’ll show you where everything is and grab Jenna’s key for you.” I follow him out of his office and across the hall to a small storeroom that’s not much bigger than a utility closet, forcing our bodies to touch, sending scorching heat radiating through me. Oblivious to my reaction—which I work to squash so I can concentrate—he points to the various items as he explains what each one is and when it’s used. Then he waves his arm out toward the bathroom and shows me where I can store my purse safely.

When we head out into the open front area, I touch the leaves of the plants as I pass. “I love the greenery. It adds a touch of softness to the place.”

“That’s Ken. He loves having the plants here. You’ll hear him talking to them throughout the day. He even has names for each one.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I can never remember which one is which, so don’t feel too bad if you can’t keep them straight either.”

A giggle escapes me before I can contain it. “I can’t imagine Ken talking to the plants. He looks more like he belongs in a motorcycle club.”

His body tenses. “Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving.” A note of warning slides into his tone. “He’s the sweetest dude you’ll ever meet.” He flicks the light switch and bathes the large room in light. “When you first come in, you’ll need to turn on the lights, start the computer, and ensure we have everything we need to begin work. If you notice we’re getting low on stock, we have a notepad in the drawer at reception. Just add anything to the list.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was a bitch, and the bean needed an extra slice of peanut butter toast.” I turn toward the woman’s voice and come face to face with Jenna, the stunning woman I met on Thursday when I came in for the interview. She thought I was a college girl wanting a tattoo. Her lips spread when she finally looks up at me and Lincoln. “Hey, congrats on getting the job! Linc showed me your art. You are one talented lady.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and gives me a side hug as if we know each other well. “Morning, boss.”

“Morning.” He steps close to her, inspecting her from top to bottom with narrowed eyes. “How are you feeling, Jen?”

“Didn’t get much sleep last night. All of my insides feel as though they’re squashed behind my ribs, but I’m feeling good right now. I’ll probably nap this afternoon.” She pushes a multitude of gorgeous braids over her shoulder. “You ready to get started?”

“Absolutely. Show me all the things I need to know.”

“All right, I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He looks directly at me. “When you’re finished with Jenna, Ken will show you how to set up our stations.” Without waiting for a response, he spins on his heel and stalks to the front door to unlock it.

Jenna turns on the computer and while we wait for it to load, she explains what a typical flow will look like. “People may walk in or phone to make an appointment. The first appointment is a sit down with an artist while the client discusses what they would like. You may do a couple of quick sketches to confirm that you’re both on the same page. You’ll also need to do a tracing of the area where they want the tattoo so you have measurements as well as any scars, moles, or birthmarks you need to work with or around.” She shows me the booking and payment system—explaining how each step of the workflow fits and how it looks in the program—which is similar to the one I’ve been using at Beyond the Fringe but different from the program artWORX used, but it’s easy enough to pick up.

Ken breezes in with a watering can. “Morning, ladies.”

When I turn to say good morning back, Jenna stops me with a chuckle. She leans in and whispers, “He’s talking to his plants.”

My eyes widen. “Oh.”

“He’ll get to us in a sec.” She holds three fingers up and mouths, “three … two … one.”

“Morning, doll.” He wraps his arm around Jenna and gives her a side hug. “How are you feeling?” His eyes trace her from head to toe with concern. I love how Lincoln and Ken check in with Jenna like she’s more than an employee. They feel more like a family.

She chuckles and presses her hand on his protruding belly. “I’m great. Especially now that I’ve seen you.”

His cheeks turn pink. “How’s the bean?”

She rubs her stomach lovingly, her expression softening. “The bean’s doing great.”

“Awesome.” Ken turns his attention to me. “How are you doing, doll?”

I smile brightly because I’m living the dream right now. “I’m great, thanks. Jenna’s showing me the computer system and explaining how the appointments work.”

“Good. If there’s anything you forget, you can always ask me or Linc,”—I slide my eyes to Lincoln, something I can’t seem to stop myself from doing—“so don’t stress if you can’t remember everything.” Well, that takes some of the pressure off.

“Thanks, Ken.”

He nods, then makes his way around the room, watering his plants, twisting the pots, and talking to them as he does. It’s quite a sight. The bell over the door rings and when I look toward the sound, a stocky guy with arms covered in colorful tattoos enters. Jenna nudges me. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I nod and smile. “Good morning, welcome to Fine Line. How can I help you today?”

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