Page 186 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

She stands too. “I know that. I want to learn. I’ve already been studying how to identify common skin diseases and how scarred skin can take ink. I know I need to have exceptional communication skills during every step of the process. I’ve been teaching myself the best hygiene practices, and I learned a fair amount during my time at artWORX. You can count on me. I need this job. I want this job. I was born to do this type of work.”

Her words bleed with genuine passion and desire, and while common sense tells me this isn’t what I need for the studio, I can’t deny her artistic talent, her self-belief, or her desire for this opportunity. I blow out a long, frustrated breath and look away, giving myself time to think—something I can’t do while she’s looking at me with those bedroom eyes of hers. Standing upright, I push my hair back with agitation, and when I turn my gaze back toward her, I catch her watching me closely. “I’ll need to discuss this with Ken. I’ll call you one way or the other tonight.”

Her shoulders sag, and the scent of defeat fills the air, replacing her coconut scent as she leans across my desk, using the tips of her fingers to drag her portfolio back toward her. “You know, it’s hard to get experience when nobody’s prepared to give you a chance to get it.” She closes the folder. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Kingsley.”

And with that parting sentence, she reminds me what an asshole I am. She hoists her purse over her shoulder and leaves my office without another word. My eyes drop to her perfect ass. It’s probably for the best if I don’t give her the position. She’s far too enticing. The way she stood up to me was hot as fuck. Add in her artistic talent and the package she comes in, and she’s way too tempting for a guy like me.

Three

Sophie

“Mom, why can’t I have a phone? All my friends have them. I’m the only kid at school that doesn’t have one.” I roll my eyes at his dramatics, knowing he’s not the only kid without a phone. “If I had a phone, I’d be able to let you know where I am when we’re not together.”

“I already know where you are when we’re not together. You’re at school or you’re here with Grandad.” I ruffle his hair with a chuckle. “You don’t need a phone, James. Not yet. Stop being in such a rush to grow up. I’m not ready.”

“But, Mom.” He slaps his hands against his thighs.

I drag my fingers through my hair. “No. I’m not discussing this with you again until you’re at least twelve.”

“Damn.” He pouts.

“Mouth.”

He huffs and I smile internally. I know I’m doing my job properly when he gets pissed at me. James, my pride and joy, stomps his way down the hallway. “Don’t forget to bring your homework back with you,” I call after him.

Dad rolls out of his office, shaking his head. “You’re doing a great job with him.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m doing my best; even if he doesn’t think so.”

I head into the kitchen to prepare our afternoon snacks, so James and I can work on his homework. I’m unsure what my schedule will be if I get this job—which I doubt—so I make the most of my free afternoon. The kid who steps into the kitchen has done a three-sixty from the one who stomped away from me. “Sorry, Mom. I’ll stop asking for a phone.”

“I’d appreciate it.” Another phone plan isn’t in the budget.

We sit at the table and tackle his homework as he snacks. While he works on his math grids, my mind wanders to my interview with Lincoln Kingsley. The man oozes authority and masculinity. I couldn’t keep my eyes from tracing every inch of him, especially the beautifully designed piece on his left arm. What I wouldn’t give to ink some of my designs onto someone’s flesh, but I guess it’s never going to happen since I need to have experience to get a job as a tattoo artist. Lord only knows how I’m supposed to do that.

“Mom, do you think this is right?” James breaks into my thoughts.

I study the grid closely. “All the squares seem to complete the equations correctly.”

His lips spread. “Yay!” He thrusts his fist upward in celebration.

I chuckle. “All right. You’d better write the answers in the spaces.”

We keep working, testing his spelling words and I listen to him read his latest reader. “Okay. I think that’s everything. Pack all of this away and you can have one hour on your Xbox.”

He quickly stands, packs his backpack ready for school tomorrow, and races into the front room to turn on his game. As I wash my hands, Dad rolls into the kitchen. “How did your interview go this morning?”

“The owner said he’d call, but I’m not holding my breath. He wants someone with experience, and that isn’t me.”

Dad’s eyebrows draw low over his eyes as they narrow in thought. “But you’ve been drawing a long time. What more do they need?”

I rub at an already clean spot on the counter and shrug. “I guess they need hands-on experience. Something I don’t have.”

He rolls closer and tips my chin up so I can’t avoid his eyes. “Well, if they can’t see the talented young lady you are, then that’s their loss. Other positions will become available and perhaps the next boss will appreciate you for the talent that you are.”

My heart expands to almost double its size and warmth fills me. “Thanks, Dad.” If only he knew where I was trying to get a job, he’d probably be happy with my lack of success.

I prepare enchiladas for dinner and we eat as James tells us about his day, then Dad shares the idea for a twist that came to him today for his latest work in progress. It’s great to see him excited about this book. He had a hard time in the beginning as he was trying to work out his character’s motivation and the events that would need to take place before the conspiracy is revealed. But it seems he’s on track now. After we finish eating, I wash the dishes, while James dries, and Dad makes chocolate pudding cups for dessert.

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