Page 15 of Fox
At all.
Not even a little bit.
“I-I know about the shop website and that some of you use Instagram to upload quick snapshots of your work, but it’s not uniform. The pictures are never taken in the right lighting, and you never use hashtags, or show your work consistently. The website is glitchy and outdated. There are zero talks about any awards you’ve won or conventions that any of you have attended or are planning to attend, which is unfortunate. I mean, Fox, you and Atlas are so well known—”
Atlas grins and elbows Fox in the arm. “Fuck, yeah, we are. The ladies love us, and all the guys want to be us.”
Fox’s scoff and eye roll fill me with discouragement. I look toward Ash and Derek, who sit behind Atlas and Fox. Ash specializes in traditional Japanese tattoos. He’s a few inches shorter than Fox and has the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s about thirty and shows up every day getting dropped off by a different girl.
Derek is… Well, he’s a mystery. He doesn’t talk much, and he only takes walk-ins. He’s been here almost as long as Fox. I remember he argued with Fox and Dad because he refused to showcase his work or take repeat customers. It’s a shame because his black and gray work is truly unmatched. But Derek just sits there, cleaning his already spotless area, like he’s not even a part of this conversation.
Neither he nor Ash will be helpful to me in this discussion. I swallow the hard lump in my throat. My presentation is going worse than I thought it would.
“If you look at the hashtags I printed on page four, you can see that clients advertise you,Hashtag Fox Hel’s Inkis massive, and Atlas isn’t far behind. If I streamlined this and got you guys more organized, and in the public eye, your success—”
“Are we not successful?” Fox asks at the same time he drops the folder onto the tattoo table. “I mean, I make plenty of money. I own a famous shop.”
“Co-own,” I mutter, earning a glare from him.
“Listen, Torch, this is cute; I can tell you worked hard on it.” Fox’s patronizing tone causes my irritation level to shoot up. He takes his glasses off to look at me as he continues to speak. “But we are tattoo artists. Nobody here wants to sell skin creams or diet pills to make a living.” My neck and face heat up as a wave of embarrassment, thanks to his oh-so-sweet words hitting me like a slap across the face. I pretty much expected this outcome this morning when I was getting all the information together, so I’m not sure why I’m as affected as I am. Then again, I guess I do. Now I know he really does see me just like the rest of the world does. A big smile and an empty brain. God, I’m so stupid. Why did I think I could convince these guys, especially Fox, to listen to me about this? I tried countless times with Dad, and he would just kiss my forehead and tell me not to worry about the shop. He would handle it.
I force my lip not to wobble while staring at Fox, who has the folder between us, waiting for my move. This shouldn’t hurt so much. Not with him.
“Little bit, why don’t you just go shopping? I’ll handle the marketing. Send me a picture of what you get later on, alright?”
I feel the sob stabbing me in the throat and my dad’s voice filling my ears. He never thought I could do this, so of course, he left it to his carbon copy.
Forcing a smile, I give them a nod. “Okay, yeah, just forget it.” I force out a tight laugh, feeling the heat travel up my neck. “It was just a stupid suggestion, you know something to do to waste time while I’m here.” Putting my hands behind my back, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, leaving Fox standing at his station with my folder.
“Janie, wait,” he calls before I shut the bathroom door and lock it. I wait several moments, and when I hear the door chime that indicates someone is entering the shop, I take it as my chance to sneak out and head further back until I reach my dad’s old office. Running my hand over the T+J carved into the frame, I quickly walk in and shut the door behind me.
It smells like old books and pipe tobacco in here. Dad didn’t smoke, but he loved the smell of pipe tobacco, so he would often puff on a pipe so that the room would fill with the aroma. I’m overcome with a similar feeling to when I first came into the shop a couple of weeks ago and smelled the green soap.
Burying my face into the arm of the loveseat, I inhale deeply while trying to ignore the painful ache in my chest. I try to hold off for as long as possible, but the dam is finally breaking, and I can no longer hold on. Squeezing the pillow tightly to my chest, I let out a silent sob as the tears begin to spill freely from my eyes.
EIGHT
fox
“Ash and I are going to go grab burgers. You want to come?” Atlas asks while he and our dark-eyed friend head toward the front door. I can’t help but shift my gaze toward the back of the shop where the break room is, something I’ve done several times over the last few hours.
“Nah, I’m not hungry. Those donuts were more than enough.” Laughing, I smack my stomach and watch Ash and Atlas walk out, leaving me alone since Derek had already left without saying anything to anyone. I don’t really know what he does on his breaks, and I don’t care to know either. But they’re all gone, and Janie has been in the back all day and… god dammit.
The truth is, I want to check on Janie, as much as it annoys me to admit. Hell, annoy isn’t even close to a strong enough word. But despite not wanting to, Ineedto. But I know I need to wait until it’s just her and me. Otherwise, she will blow me off if the guys come in. Guilt fills my gut as I think back to this morning.
I was probably too hard on her. Not probably. I was definitely being a deliberate prick. Her charts looked impressive, I guess. I couldn’t understand ninety percent of it. The charts and graphs—I’ve never been able to comprehend that kind of shit. When she handed me all those papers, she might as well have given me engineering principles, though I wasn’t about to admit it in front of her and the guys. I’m the owner now, the leader; I couldn’t allow her to make me look stupid, intentional or otherwise. So, I pretended to look at it, understand it and tell her it wasn’t happening, because I’m a dick.
What I hadn’t expected was her choosing not to argue with me. Or that she looked so sad and embarrassed. I’d expected her to fight me and question my intelligence, but when she said it was just a stupid suggestion for her to waste time after she clearly came in like a businesswoman on a mission.
“Where the hell is she?” I mutter while scanning the break room, trying to stop the mental beatdown I’m giving myself. Walking over to Tony’s old office, I tap on the door and wait a few seconds for an answer, but nothing but silence greets me. I’m about to walk away when I hear it.My god, is that her snoring?It sounds like someone threw nuts and bolts into a blender before hitting the frappe.
I walk inside and spot Janie fast asleep on the loveseat, her slight frame curling around a pillow in the fetal position. Her curly copper locks are wild and laying every which way. Kneeling in front of her face, my gut instantly twists tighter. Her mascara and makeup have run from the tears she must’ve cried.
“Hey,” I say softly while touching her arm. “Janie, come on, you’ve been back here all day.”
She groans but opens her eyes to glare at me. “What Fox? Am I bothering you back here, too?” I deserve the icy snap.
“You’ve been back here all day. I wanted to check on you—” Janie doubles over and hisses out a breath before shaking her head. “What’s wrong?”
