Page 24 of The Opposite Effect

Actually, make that weeks.

She’s standing right in front of me.

The biggest fucking headache of my life.

Like my crippling headaches aren’t irritating enough, my cock’s stint in segregation has become even more severe since Clara arrived on the doorstep of Inked. Nothing kills a man’s good mood quicker than losing his mojo.

Clara’s narrowed eyes shift from glaring at Hugo to me. “We’ll continue this later,” she instructs, her tone smeared with superiority like the princess she is.

My eyes drift around the handful of the Inked crew watchingthe exchange between Clara and me with eagle eyes. Charity’s mouth is gaped, Johnny has his brows stitched, and Diesel is leaning against the doorjamb of my office with an amused grin etched on his face.

Not willing to let any member of my crew believe this type of behavior will be deemed acceptable at Inked, I sling my eyes back with Clara and order, “Do it now or collect your last paycheck.”

She inhales a quick, jagged breath as her eyes dance between mine, no doubt seeking any deceit in my statement. Although I said the job was hers as long as she wanted it, I won’t be disrespected in front of my crew.

I just hope she can’t see the deceit in my eyes.

Unable to determine if my threat is idle, Clara swallows harshly before marching to the counter with her head held high. She snaps open the planner and drops her eyes to it. “I contacted Clancy. He’s happy to take an earlier appointment, but he has some alterations he’d like to make to his design.”

I adjust the tilt of my head, forcing her eyes to connect with mine. “Have Clancy’s designs already been drawn up?”

After shifting her eyes from Hugo to me, Clara shakes her head.

“Then keep him at his original time. He’s fanatical about the draw-up, and it can take hours to get him to agree to a design, so he’ll hold up the appointments following him. What about Riley?” I suggest while pointing to my ten o’clock booking. “Call him and see if he can get here at seven, then slot Colby in after him.”

“Okay. I’ll make some phone calls. Once I have everyone scheduled, I will advise you of any changes,” Clara informs, her voice still high-strung.

Once she snaps the planner shut, she diverts her focus to Hugo. “If you so much as breathe a word about me working here, I will ensure it is the last breath you take,” she warns in a vicioussnarl. “In fact, if you even mention you saw me in this dump, I’ll do far worse than ending your pathetic life.”

My eyes bulge, Charity’s dropped jaw gains leverage as does the grin on Diesel’s face, and Johnny… well, he’s simply staring at Clara in complete awe.

It’s not every day you see a princess sparring against a giant.

Upon hearing the shocked gasps of her work colleagues, Clara’s eyes slowly filter around the shop. The fiery anger illuminating her face with a red hue fades when she realizes her tirade has gained her the attention of half of her co-workers and a dozen clients.

Snarling, she spins on her heels and darts down the corridor. I run my hand down my face as my brain tries to work out what the fuck just happened. This is the first time in the ten years I’ve been working at Inked that I’ve had to deal with a member of my crew verbally abusing the clients.

Usually, it’s the other way around.

After gesturing for my crew to get back to work, I lock my eyes on Hugo. “Sorry about that. She’s a little high-strung at times,” I mutter, my voice hampered with frustration at being forced to apologize for the behavior of one of my crew, let alone a grown woman who should know better.

Hugo delves his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “It’s all good. It’s nothing I haven’t handled before.”

When he passes me one of the many credit cards housed in his leather wallet, my brows furrow. “Since when did you stop paying cash?” I jest, saying anything to lessen the awkward tension plaguing the air.

“About as long as you’ve been picking up rich strays.” Hugo waggles his brows.

I laugh, grateful he can see the humor in a difficult situation. “A dangerous endeavor for us both, no doubt?”

“You have no fucking clue,” he mutters under his breath.

After seeing Hugo out, I walk down the corridor in search of Clara. Because of the size of the shop, it doesn’t take me long to find her camped out in the supply closet. Although she appears to be busy working, the feistiness that radiates out of her in invisible waves is missing, clearly indicating she’s in hiding.

“I need to talk to you in my office.”

Clara places a bottle of blue tattoo ink onto the third shelf before hopping off the stepladder. “Okay. Let me just finish this?—”

“Now, Clara,” I interrupt, my voice conveying that this is not up for negotiation.

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