Page 22 of Haze's Jewel

When we get back to his now empty booth, I say, “Look, I’m sorry if I sent her into a spiral. I didn’t mean anything. I’m not sure what I said.”

He sits and draws me down into his lap. “She’s been acting a bit weird recently, I think something Brittany said to her this morning set her off.”

“I need to learn to keep my big fat mouth shut.” I can feel my face getting hot with shame. Trix has been really nice to me. I hate upsetting her.

Haze wraps his hand around my ponytail and gently tugs my head back so he can look me in the eye. “I won’t have you walking on eggshells around my family. Don’t take it personally, she’s got a lot on her plate. She helps her brother Tracker run the bar in town, and since her sister-in-law had a baby, she’s working a few extra shifts at the bar, while Mel’s filling in at the clubhouse. Trix is a nice woman but whatever is going on with her, is up to her and my brother to resolve.”

We both turn around when the bell attached to the top of the door jingles, just in time to see Vapor run out, hot on Trix’s heels. “Well, it looks like you’re going to be helping me pick up the slack, since our other tattoo artist just left me high and dry.”

“What? I don’t know anything about tattooing!” I can’t imagine what he has in mind for me.

He gives me a lopsided grin and jerks his chin towards the counter. “We take it in turns to answer the phone, sometimes Trix helps out if she’s here but…”

I suddenly had an idea, a way I could help out and earn my keep, “What you need is a full-time receptionist and salesclerk!”

A slow smile creeps across Haze’s face, “You’re a smart lady. That would solve all our problems, plus it means I get to see your beautiful face all day long.”

“And it’s a way to pay off my debt,” I say.

The smile vanishes, “Don’t be silly, I told you. Don’t worry about that. If you’re gonna be working here, then you’ll get a wage. I need to run it past Vapor as he’s a co-owner, but I’m sure he’ll agree. It will free both of us up to concentrate on the customers.”

This looks to be a win-win situation for all of us, “I can start now, if you want?”

“Great! I’m sure you know how to run the simplest cash register ever made this side of the Rio Grande, but I can show you if you want?”

I grin at him, “I should be okay, I can cash people out and run credit cards. I learned that from working summer jobs as a teen.”

“Well, I’m going to fill out a ticket with the amount you need to charge. We’re not fancy around here. You check them out, take incoming phone calls and talk to walk-in customers. The scheduling book has highlighted space available for new customers because those appointments take longer. If you have any questions, just ask. I’ll just start slinging ink like a madman.”

“Got it,” I say with enthusiasm, eager to help out after knocking everything off course. Since there is no real merchandise to handle, this is definitely something I can do with my arm still in a cast. In fact, this is a brilliant idea. It not only gives me a way to make up for the trouble I caused, but it gives me something productive to do with my time. Sitting around with nothing to do makes time drag.

Once I’m behind the counter, I look over their set-up with a critical eye. The cash register is a basic model that I’ve used before. All the keys are labeled and there is a cheat sheet, explaining the codes, taped to the glass countertop.

Peering through the glass, I notice, for the first time, they do actually sell items. There are little bottles of special cleanser and moisturizers for tattoo aftercare, and an assortment of body piercing jewelry. Some of the pieces are really pretty. Everything is relatively small and should be easy enough for me to handle one handed. I feel around under the storage space underneath and find small paper bags with the name of the tattoo parlor printed across the front. There is even a bunch of blank consent forms stacked neatly off to the side. Everything seems to be in order.

***

While Haze worked on his customers, I busied myself rearranging the display cabinet. Everything was small and light, so it was easy enough to do one-handed. I glance over at Haze to find him looking at me, as his customer checks out the new tattoo on his arm. I can’t make out the design from here, but it looks intricate. The expression on the man’s face is approving. Haze holds up a small sheet of paper with a lopsided grin. I realize immediately that it’s the customer’s ticket. Within moments the gentleman wanders over and hands me the little square of paper. It’s about the size of the palm of my hand with a code and price scribbled on. Haze also added a notation for cleanser and lotion with questions marks, plainly prompting me to upsell.

I glance down at the tattoo positioned just above his wrist and then flash his customer a smile. “Nice skull and crossbones.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be the beginning of sleeve. I’m just going to keep adding designs I like all the way up to my shoulder.”

“Sort of a collection of images that are special to you in some way, right?”

A genuine smile spreads across his face, making him look almost boyish. It drives home the fact that he’s barely legal. “You’re over eighteen, right?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, they carded me when I came in. You’ve got a copy of ID somewhere back there.”

My eyes jump around and land on a plastic file box. I’m pretty sure that’s where they keep consents and paperwork. Since he’s already been carded and clearly signed the release, I just talk to him about the aftercare products. He takes one of each. The whole process goes quickly. I look through the scheduling book laying open on the counter and make him an appointment for next month and he leaves the shop a satisfied customer.

I find that I’m looking forward to the rest of the day because the shop has a great vibe. The customers are nice enough and Haze continues tattooing like a madman. His brother still hadn’t returned, and Haze had gotten me to call his afternoon appointments to reschedule. I’d been expecting to get an earful, but all the clients seem really understanding. We just told them it was a family emergency. So, I have a pleasant afternoon ahead with my handsome biker to look forward to. He’s crazy hot and I find my mind wandering back to last night as I watch him work.

I know there’s no use even thinking about having something real and long term with this gorgeous, playful biker. I’m on the run from my stepbrother and asshole ex, who think they fucking own me. And Haze is a straight shooter. I doubt he’d take too kindly to being lied to, and whether or not I want to admit it, I’ve lied to him from the jump. I’m using an alias for fuck’s sake. That means this man who gave me several outstanding orgasms doesn’t even know my real name. I’ve very aware just how messed up that is.

I absentmindedly pick up the phone when it rings. “Savage Tattoos. This is Anna. How may I help you?”

“I want a tattoo. When can you fit me in?”

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