Page 36 of Show Me How
I’ve always been a fast learner, but today has reminded me that there is only so much I can improve on in a few hours’ time.
But hey, at least I knew how to use a stapler correctly.
Taking that hit on the chin, I finish with the newly organized stack of receipts and slip them into their proper folder. Bryce left an hour ago, leaving me on my own for the rest of the day while Shade works on the thigh tattoo he’s been doing for what feels like forever now.
I should have done far more today, and I would have . . . if it weren’t for him.
From the moment the woman got here and Shade got to work prepping her thigh, I’ve been utterly distracted. For a huge guy, he moves with a precision that seems unnatural. He got her skin shaved and a blue sketch of the design she wanted placed down with a confident ease that held my attention for way too long. I couldn’t hear the ring of the studio phone until he looked up from where he was working and saw me watching him.
I ignored him for an hour.
The continuous buzz of the tattoo gun has filled the studio for so long that I’m positive I’ll hear it in my dreams. I don’t know how he can hold it in his hand for this entire time. It must be uncomfortable.
“Want to take a break? You’re almost done,” he says to the woman, lifting the needle off her skin and wiping it clean.
She pulls her long pink hair over her shoulder and pants slightly. There’s a quiver in her arm from holding herself up on the table for so long.
“No. Let’s just finish it.”
Shade grins proudly at her, and I swallow, ignoring the nip of envy in my side. It’s so ridiculous to be jealous of that and this woman at all. I blame how out of the ordinary today has been for that. It has to be acceptable to be all out of whack after the week I’ve had.
Sitting behind the desk, I cross my legs and start flipping through the brown leather book that I’ve gotten quite familiar with today. Month by month, I move through the pages and takeanother mental note of when exactly he’s open for more small bookings. March seems like years rather than months away from now, and yet, the open spots on his calendar are far and few between. I flip through more pages and stare at the empty dates at the full-year mark and try to wrap my head around someone being so in demand that their life is planned that far in advance.
Clearly, he’s talented. I mean, that much is obvious from everything I’ve seen today. Even without a clear view of what he’s been working on, the woman’s reaction gives away that she’s happy with it. The photos on the walls behind me are another testament to that.
My cheeks heat as I think back to the one I know hovers above me. The design is breathtaking, but it was the woman who took me the most by surprise. Her confidence was obvious through the pose of her body, but I still had a hard time understanding.
With her knees digging into the cushion of the couch, she pressed her middle against the back of it and faced the wall, the fire-breathing dragon on her back fully displayed. The red and orange flames were the only colours in the photo, along with the red thong slung over her round hips and tucked between her cheeks.
There were more tattoos on her body, but it was clear the dragon was the focal piece, and as shocking as it was for me to see, it deserved that level of attention.
Shade must get to do many pieces like that with women of similar confidence and beauty. It’s no wonder he’s as cocky as he is. I won’t admit it to him anytime soon, but from what I’ve seen, he deserves it. And it makes me even more sure of the decision I made to end our conversation early last night.
I’m nothing like the woman in that photo, and I won’t ever be. Shade would eat me alive, and from what I’ve seen from himtoday, he’s made the same conclusion. Why else would he not have brought up last night?
Other than his question about why I didn’t let him know when I was coming today, he hasn’t mentioned it, and he certainly hasn’t hinted at wanting me to answer his question again.
“Okay, you’re finished,” Shade announces.
I keep my eyes on the pages of his appointment book, not looking up when I hear movement from his direction.
The woman groans loudly. “Thank fuck. I’m numb.”
“I could do a few more touch-ups to keep you here a bit longer,” he teases.
“There are worse things than your hands on my thigh, Shade.”
I bite my tongue and lift my gaze to the computer screen. Shaking the mouse, I wake it up and log in.
“You flatter me.” There’s a clap from what sounds like a hand on skin. Her leg, maybe. “Up you go. Check it out in the mirror and decide if you actually need any touch-ups.”
“I’m not sure I can afford any more of your time.”
“On the house, Beck.”
I press down on the mouse a bit too hard and accidentally open the wrong application. Closing out of it, I choose the calendar and scroll back to where I last left off with the appointment transfers. Having them all in a book might seem easier to Shade, but it’s a surefire way to lose something important. Once I’m finished, he’ll have everything available to see online, as well as inside his book.
“Unfortunately, it’s perfect. No touch-ups needed, although I’m not surprised,” the woman calls.
