Page 11 of Under My Skin
“Hey, boss. There’s a new client downstairs, but we all have our hands full. Troy is talking to her now, but his next appointment is due any minute.”
“Okay. I’ll be right down.” My eyes wander back to the swatches, hoping the brief interruption will let me see them more clearly. But as Toni’s footsteps fade, I’m left just as hopeless about the whole thing as I was a minute ago. With a sigh, I head downstairs. I hope whoever came in isn’t expecting a tattoo tonight.
As soon as I’m back in the studio, I look Troy’s way to find him clearly flirting with a blonde sitting in our waiting area. His unwavering eye contact and subtle smirk are enough to tell me that much. I can only see the back of her from here, but she’s leaning toward him just enough for me to know he isn’t about to scare her away.
Regardless of how much success he’s having, when another car pulls up, I know there’s a good chance it’s his last appointment of the night. Heading to where he sits on our coffee table, I nod to the parking lot, so he knows they’re here.
Troy looks over his shoulder before smiling back at the girl infront of him. “That’s my next tattoo, but the owner of the shop will be happy to help you out.”
As I round into our waiting area, I put on my best customer service smile. “Hey, how can I—” Laughter bursts from me, and I shake my head. “No.” I should have recognized that unmistakable blonde ponytail, but it’s been so long. It wasn’t until I registered those familiar blue eyes and soft smile that I knew she’d be the first customer I’d ever turn away.
Lucy’s face goes through a series of emotions, like watching a cartoon in a flip book. Her large, animated eyes widen; her smile falters and is quickly replaced by a pouty lip.
Aside from her expression, she looks good. Her baggy jeans and oversized sweater might make some people look disheveled, but I don’t think Lucy can look out of sorts. The bangs that shape her face are familiar but different from the bangs she had growing up. They’re softer, and the pieces framing her face have a subtle wave to them like the rest of her hair that’s tied back. She looks like an adult, not the girl who had her heart broken by some asshole when she was seventeen.
Despite taking all this in, I can’t stop laughing. “No,” I say again. Of all the shops for her to walk into, of course she’d walk into this one. Actually, it’s a good thing she did because I sure as hell am not tattooing her tonight, and I can’t say the same for the other shops in the area.
Her pout intensifies. “Youown this place?”
I realize I’m still shaking my head in amusement and stop it long enough to say, “Yeah, and you’re not getting a tattoo.” Without so much as another word, I turn and walk toward the back of the shop. Well, time to pick a paint color.
Her quick footsteps rush behind me, followed by a sharp, scolding whisper. “You can’t do that! I’m a paying customer!”
I appreciate her keeping her voice down, but I’d appreciate it more if she’d get out of here and go to her parents’ house. Turningback around to face her, I cross my arms and rock back on my heels. “You don’t evenliketattoos.”
Her blue eyes blaze, and she clenches her fists in defiance. “Everett. You don’t evenknowme.”
We hold each other’s stare, and I have to admit, there’s a fire behind those eyes I’ve never seen. She’s pissed. Whether it be at me or the situation with her parents, I have no idea. But she’s definitely pissed.
“I don’t know you?” I ask with a raise of my brow. “Lucy Blake, straight A student turned graphic designer. Has only a couple of close friends and likes to keep her circle small. Moved to Colorado for college and loved it so much she never came back. Likes: the color blue but only very particular shades, and animals, but she’s allergic to most of them. Dislikes: any music made by a DJ, and motorcycles—especially the ones ridden by her brother and his friends.” I pause to think. “Hmm, and what else? Oh, that’s right. Tattoos.”
When she doesn’t say anything, another chuckle leaves me. “But you’re right. I don’t know you.” I turn to walk away again, but before I manage to get far, she’s already on my tail. Toni lifts an amused brow as she looks up from her client, but before I can even try to explain, Lucy pulls my attention back to her.
“Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind. People change.”
Stopping in my tracks, I throw my head back and groan before surrendering and turning to face her again. “All right. You want a tattoo? Sit.” I gesture to my empty station, clean and prepped for tomorrow.
She balks, her eyes jumping from me to the chair like I just asked her to do something far worse.
I knew she was bluffing.
Holding my composure, I say, “This is why you came in here, right? For art that will last a lifetime?”
She scoffs the way I figured she would. She’d probably compare it to being branded like cattle.
“Sit,” I say again, and this time, she swallows hard before listening. As soon as she’s in the chair, I turn my back to her and start getting organized.
“Shouldn’t I see your other work first?” There’s a stubborn edge of defiance in her voice.
Without looking at her, I say, “You’ve seen my work.” I’ve done almost all of Simon’s tattoos, and she knows it.
“You haven’t even asked me what I want.”
I keep rummaging through my station, getting the proper cleaning supplies laid out. “Okay. What do you want?”
There’s a pause, so I finally turn to face her again, but her eyes aren’t on me. They’re fixated to the front exit like she might bolt for the door at any moment.
Frankly, she should.
