Page 13 of Brand
CHAPTER SIX
Cami
What did one wear to their first day of…almost work at a tattoo shop? Nothing that was in my closet that was for sure. Cardigans and knee-length skirts, I would say definitely no. But the truth was, I had limited options for things that wouldn’t make me stick out like a sore thumb.
Okay, so I did have some jeans, all of them tight and didn’t leave much room for moving around easily. If I was going to be the shop Cinderella, which is what I was imagining in my head at the moment, then I needed something that would let me move freely.
I ended up with a pair of gray, sparkly leggings. I tossed on one of the loose fitting tanks that I wore when I painted, so it had a bunch of splatters and finger smudges on it from where I used it as a rag out of convenience. Then since I felt a little unsure, I tossed a hot pink cardigan over it. If I felt too awkward by the time I got there, I could button the thing up and hide the paint mess on my shirt. Slipping on a pair of plain black ballet flats, I decided I was ready to face the day.
Brand made me nervous and I was sure I didn’t hide that even a little bit. He was way cuter than I’d pictured him in my mind. I tried and tried to find a picture of him before I walked into Branded In Ink, but there wasn’t a single one. And since I didn’t have his whole name, I couldn’t go full stalker.
In my head, he was some older guy covered from neck to toes in ink. Bald head. A bit of a beer gut.
Brand was none of those things.
While I did spot some ink on his arms it wasn’t such a mess that one thing blended into the other. I couldn’t say anything as far as the rest of him, but I would tell you that I did wonder what was hidden under his clothes. Tattoo wise that was! Seriously, I wasn’t thinking about dirty stuff. Head out of the gutter! He wasn’t bald either or had a beer gut. I caught a flash of dimples at one point when he was talking and I so desperately wanted to know what they looked like when his face went full-on happy smile.
But none of that mattered. I was there for one thing, and one thing only. To work my way up to tattoo artist. And if I was lucky enough, I’d earn a place in his shop.
Was this a completely insane idea? Yes. And I knew once my parents found out there would be a massive blowout. However, as I drove past the lively part of downtown to the part where the businesses started to drop off, and the blocks were filled with more empty storefronts than not, I didn’t give two shakes of a stick at all.
I felt giddy and happy like a kid on Christmas morning. I only hoped that it would all work out. Brand seemed a little unsure and closed off. Maybe even on the verge of butt-hole with his cold attitude. Nothing I couldn’t either deal with or break through. I hoped for the latter. I knew nothing of the other two that worked there. Yesterday, the place had seemed so quiet that I even wondered if anyone besides Brand was working then.
I wondered for the hundredth time if this was a bad move. As I parked my pride and joy along the street, I prayed that no one would mess with her. Yes a her. And no, I didn’t drive around in some BMW convertible. I may have had a family that had more money than they knew what to do with, but I liked to live practically. So, my beauty was a deep blue Dodge Charger. A nineteen seventy-one Charger to be precise.
How is that practical? Well, it was the same one my grandfather drove back in the day. He kept that thing in pristine condition even though he didn’t drive it that much. And when he had his license taken away after he took out an entire street length of mailboxes, I saved her from the junkyard. Yes, he happened to be inthatcar when he took out those poor driveway decorators. So the car had some damage and because of that, my parents were ready to throw it away, in a sense. I jumped in and begged them to let me keep it. I worked an entire summer at a local pottery place just to pay for the repairs. Because, even if they were going to help me out, I wanted to do it myself.
I knew this wasn’t the best area of the city and I honestly hadn’t thought of that before this moment. I hated to leave her sitting right there like a giant neon sign screaming ‘steal me and take me for a joyride’ or whatever people did when they stole cars.
A knock on my windshield made me jump as a scream like I was being murdered ripped out of my throat. My hand went to my chest as I turned to look at who had just scared the daylights out of me. When I saw it was Brand, who was motioning for me to roll down my window, I did just that.
“Sorry,” he said, the corner of his lips twitched while his eyes held the sincerity of his statement. “This your car?” I didn’t miss the shock and surprise in his tone.
“Yes.” My face felt both hot and tight.
I knew exactly what he was thinking and while I had hoped he hadn’t judged me right off the bat as some spoiled rich girl, it was clear he had. I couldn’t wait until he found out my name and made the connection. One of two things usually happened then, they would either be overly friendly and suck up or they would give me a look of disgust.
“I didn’t think that leaving myBenzparked on this side of town was a good idea, so I left it at home.” Sarcasm dripped from my tone and I wasn’t even trying to hide it.
So, one thing about me, I sometimes wasn’t able to bite my tongue and hide when I was unhappy or mad. Just sometimes. Years of practice had quelled that uncontrollable urge. And it might be the littlest of things that got under my skin. Being treated like an idiot and thinking that I spent all of daddy’s money were things that really hit that angry button for me. Right then, that’s what I felt like this Brand guy was doing. Judging me without even knowing me. As much as I should have been all sugar and roses and bending over backward to please him, I couldn’t stop myself this time so it seemed. And as I realized my mistake, I clamped my mouth shut and prayed that he wouldn’t take offense.
A slow, lazy smile worked its way across his face and Holy mothership, his dimples were so flipping deep. I might have just turned into a melted puddle right there on my black leather seat. I mean, his smile was brilliant too, his teeth were all white and perfect, annoyingly so. I bet he didn’t have to wear braces for three years to get his to look like that, unlike some unlucky people—oh yes, I did have that awkward phase in my life.
But those dimples were what made it. Two of them. One on each side of his face, perfectly positioned right in the center of his cheeks, and so deep I thought I could get lost in them. And boy, did I want to.
“All I was going to say is that there is a lot behind the shop. You can park it back there. Go down the alley,” he said, his smile still there, as he pointed to where I needed to go.
He straightened and took a step back, his eyes glued to mine and I didn’t even want to blink. I was half worried, but only because he was backing up into the road. Then I realized that the chances of a car driving down this street were fairly slim and if there was, they would have been going slow enough to give some sort of warning.
“Okay, thanks,” I mumbled, still a little embarrassed about my comment.
“This,” he said pointing at my car. “This fits.” His head did a bobbing nod for a second, then he was walking off in the direction of the shop, leaving me to wonder what he even meant by that statement. “I’ll meet you at the back door.” He didn’t turn around to look at me as he called out over his shoulder.
After a huge, deep breath in, I turned over the key and drove to where he’d told me to. It was a tiny lot, just enough for three cars. The lot was empty so I parked in the middle spot. I wondered where Brand’s car was, but then thought that maybe he parked it out front. Then I couldn’t help but think about what it was that he drove. I shook myself out of those thoughts as I climbed out and headed for the back of the building. The heavy, metal door popped open with an angry groan and Brand held it open until I had made it inside.
Inside, the shop was still dark and everything was so quiet there was almost a stillness in the air.
“This is the office,” he said as he pointed to a door on the left. “You can put your stuff in there or there is a locked cabinet behind the front desk.”
