Page 28 of Ink & Desire

Okay, maybe he’s not a morning person. Some people aren’t. Not that it’s all that early. The morning is nearly over. Maybe he’s just not much for pleasantries? Or maybe I’m still on his shit list. That seems the most likely. But I tell myself it doesn’t matter. Whatever he feels about me, he agreed to train me. Now I just need to showhim it’s not a waste of his time. I try to remember Cass’s words of encouragement from yesterday. Lifting my chin and pushing my shoulders back, I do my best to exude confidence.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me today,” I say, walking further into the shop.

Corbin doesn’t respond, so I go on.

“I’ll admit I was surprised you agreed to this arrangement after everything.” I trail off, wincing internally. Why did I say that? The last thing I should do is remind him of our disastrous first meeting and how much he’d been against taking me on as his apprentice. Smooth, Avery. Real smooth.

“I just mean that I’m glad you did,” I say, when it’s clear he’s not going to say anything.

I turn around to find him standing closer to me than I’d expected, and I jump. He’s holding my sketchbook in his hand for me to take. His eyes are locked on mine, but his expression is unreadable. Why are his eyes so intense? Does he look at everyone with that same unnerving gaze? Does everyone feel like he can see exactly what they’re thinking? Maybe that’s just me. I can’t help the little shiver that courses through me. I only hope he doesn’t notice. Reaching out, I force myself to take the leather-bound book from him.

“Thanks,” I say.

He just nods. “A deal’s a deal,” he says, speaking for the first time since I walked into the shop.

I nod, unsure how to respond. I want to ask him why he made the deal in the first place. I’d been on my way out the door. He’d won. Something changed his mind and it’s frustrating not to know what it was. But then I remember how angry he’d been about my deception, and I decide not to bring it up again.

“So, how is this going to work?” I ask, deciding to stick to the safer subject of our business arrangement. “We should go over what’s expected of me. Is there a curriculum? Or a training plan? I want to make sure I’m doing everything possible to learn as much as I can.”

He eyes me for a moment. “You talk a lot, huh?”

Annoyance flares through me. I’ve always been told I talk too much. From teachers. From my mother. From friends and fellow students. No matter how many times I tell myself I’m going to try to dial it back with a new person or a new group of people, I inevitably end up becoming the chattiest member of the group within a day or two. It’s something that I’ve always been criticized for, and I can’t help but be sensitive about it. But there’s no way he can know that. Besides, he hadn’t said it rudely. It had sounded more like an observation or a realization. I push aside the annoyance and remind myself that I’m grateful for this opportunity.

I also remind myself that this man is essentially my new boss for the foreseeable future. I’ve never had a real job, but I know that bosses typically like their employees to be respectful. Then I remember the many times I called him an asshole over the weekend and fightback another wince. Hopefully, Corbin can forget those incidents and we can start fresh.

I give him a tight smile and say, “I’ll try to rein it in.”

He eyes me for another long, slightly uncomfortable moment and makes a noise that might be something like an agreement. I can’t tell.

“What do you know about tattoos?” he asks, throwing me with the abrupt change of subject.

“Oh,” I say. “Um, I know that the art has been around for a lot longer than people think. The earliest evidence of tattooing goes back over 5000 years. There are many cultures that use tattoos as part of religious practices.”

He holds up a hand, halting my words. “That’s a nice history lesson, but it’s not relevant for what we do these days. What do you know about modern tattooing?”

Another flare of irritation surges through me, but I manage to push it down. Unlike his usual surliness, I don’t think he’s trying to be a dick right now. I think this is just his personality. Which means I’m going to need to get used to it.

“I know that the electric tattoo machine was invented in the late 1800s. It changed a lot over the first 50 or so years. The ones in use today are a lot less cumbersome than the old models. Makes it less painful for artists to use.”

“I’m not here for a history lesson,” he says, his tone harder than before. “Anyone could find that shit on Wikipedia.”

Now he just sounds like a dick again. My irritation bubbles to the surface and I speak before thinking better of it.

“If we’re going to work together, you might try being a little nicer.”

Damn it. So much for my resolve to be respectful.

Corbin just looks at me without speaking for a long moment. I’m surprised to see that he doesn’t look angry at my outburst. His expression is more curious than anything.

“Why?”

I sigh, willing myself to find some patience. “Because that’s how normal people behave.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You might be used to fake people who lie and spout pleasantries, but that’s not how I operate. I hate liars and I don’t see the point in small talk.”

I know he’s talking about our first meeting with that jab about liars, but I do my best to ignore it. Instead, I try a different tack.

“Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot,” I say, doing my best to make my voice sound conciliatory. “I’m sorry for the way I went about things. I lied about the reason for my appointment, yes. I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s not the kind of person I am. I’m honest and when I set a goal, I work hard to achieve it. I really want this to work. So, can we please start over?”

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