Draw Me In (7 page)

“What?” Of course she’d heard me, coming around the counter at the same time my self-directed curse came out.

I forced a laugh. “Nothing, just thought of something I forgot at home.”

Seeming to swallow my lame-ass excuse, she nodded and punched in the code to turn on the phones. Phew. At least my momentary lapse of reason wasn’t causing her too much worry. She had other things on her mind, apparently. And so should I.

Chapter Five

Hailey

I hoped he couldn’t tell that I was about to jump out of my skin. Letting the phone’s handset fall to the cradle, I smoothed my damp palms on my jeans as I straightened, careful to keep my face turned away from Neill. I hadn’t had more than a couple of hours of actual training, and I already had to handle it all on my own? This was awful. I was going to bomb worse than I had in speech class last semester. Dr. Fields had been right. I couldn’t handle this, even if I hadn’t been a full-time student. They were expecting too much of me too soon.

But I pinned a smile on my face as I sat in the desk chair and faced my new boss. I opted for a tiny slice of honesty. “I’m just a little nervous, is all.”

He came around the counter and stood beside me, splaying his hand beside the phone as he leaned in. “I promise we aren’t going to desert you today. Me, Roger, and Frankie are going to check in on you and sit with you when we can. And if you don’t know something, just grab me.” He raked a hand through his shaggy hair as he stared at the ceiling. “I feel awful, having all this dumped on you your second day here. I haven’t scared you off yet, have I?” That slow, devastating smile nearly killed me.

I waited a beat before answering, Dr. Fields’s warning ringing fresh in my ears. This was it—my chance to tell Neill if I wasn’t sure I could hack the job. Could I really handle a full course load for the rest of the semester, exams and all, and do this job, too? My “actually . . .” was on the tip of my tongue, but when my gaze locked with his, something switched inside me and my answer flowed out without permission. “No. I’m not scared. If you and the rest of the guys help me, I’ll be okay.”

His lazy grin transformed into a genuine smile that lit up his whole face like a Christmas tree. That was totally worth the little white lie. “Wonderful. I knew I could count on you.”

His weight shifted toward me, and I leaned, closing the gap between us, unthinking. His hand hovered beside my cheek, just for a moment, but he winked and drew away before I could think what it meant. He walked away, arms exposed by his short-sleeved tee. The sleeve band was tight around his bicep, and I imagined running my hand over that inked muscle before he disappeared into his studio.

I turned back to the desk, the neatly piled paperwork slamming reality into my face again. How could I focus on my job with my heart thundering like this? “Crap.”

What do I do? Seriously, what do I do?

I got up and paced the narrow space between the desk and the wall. Voices floated through the wall behind me, much too low for me to understand what they were saying, but the noise distracted just the same.
Focus, Hailey, come on.

I’d missed my easy out, that was for sure. Neill had offered the door if I wanted it, but one look into those stormy blue eyes and all I could think about was being near him for the rest of the summer, if not for much longer.

Gripping the edge of the desk, I closed my eyes.
One day.
I’d give him today, see how the job went. But I’d keep Dr. Fields’s warning in mind. He’d been right about one point. My education was the most important thing, and even though Neill
was
really attractive, I wasn’t about to fall into the same trap my mother had. So I’d be careful around him, too.

When the beep above the door sounded, I put on a friendly smile and remembered what Tasha had told me the day before.
Keep it casual but professional
. “Hey. What can we do for you today?”

The door swung shut behind the customer, and I gulped. He was at least six-five, with ink on almost every visible part of his skin, even his throat. That wasn’t the intimidating part, though. The angry scowl on his face was what made me want to crawl under the counter and hide.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice thin with nerves.

“I need to talk to Frankie.” The man leaned over the counter, folding his massive forearms beneath him as a brace. “You get him out here right now.”

My mouth had gone bone-dry. “Sure,” I squeaked, grabbing the phone and hitting the button on the intercom marked “Frankie.”

“What’s up?” Frankie’s Southern drawl came through the phone’s earpiece.

“You’ve got a customer up here,” I said, being careful to keep my eyes on the phone instead of the giant angry man who stood way too close for comfort. “Can you come up here, please?”

“Yeah, in just a couple minutes. I’m finishing up something.”

Ah, crap. Of course he was. I gave a quick glance to the customer, whose scowl was deepening with every second. “Um, I really need you up here now.”

“Listen, kid, this is part of your job. Tell the customer I’ll be up there as soon as I can.”

A harsh click in my ear signaled that the conversation was over. With a shaking hand, I let the phone’s handset fall to the cradle. I shut my eyes for a split second.
Come on, Hailey, he’s just a guy with an angry face. He’s not going to do anything.

“Frankie will be up in just a minute. Do you want to have a seat?” I grabbed a heavy notebook from the bookshelf behind the desk, both to look busy and to have something that would keep my hands from shaking.

“I’m not interested in waiting,” the man said, straightening to his full height. “I’m a busy man, and I have things to do. You get him out here now.”

I stood. I didn’t really care for his tone, but I wasn’t stupid enough to call him on it. “Okay.”

It was almost a relief to fly around the corner and put some distance between us. Once I was out of sight of the counter, I pressed my back against the wall and breathed deeply. Okay.
It’s okay. Cranky customers are going to happen, and I’ll have to deal with them. I just have to get Frankie to come out here and help the guy. No problem.

With my heartbeat a little less frantic, I shoved off the wall. Frankie’s studio was the third room down and I knocked on the door briskly. Without waiting for an answer, I shoved it open. “Frankie, I really need you to—”

Several seconds passed before I realized what I was seeing. All the blood left my cheeks and I slammed the door shut, a hand clapped over my mouth.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, the image playing over and over in my brain. “Holy shit, holy shit.”

Tasha had said that Frankie was a piercer as well as a tattoo artist. What I
hadn’t
known was that he pierced himself. A very personal bit of piercing care was going on in that room, and I’d just inadvertently witnessed it. Much more of Frankie than I’d
ever
wanted to see was currently on display in there.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” Roger seemed to be hiding laughter behind a hand as he stood outside his studio, next door to Frankie’s. “Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Much worse than that,” I mumbled, sure that my nuclear-pink cheeks were flashing like Vegas neon signs. “Listen, Roger, can you see if you can help that guy up front? He wants to see Frankie, but Frankie’s kind of . . . tied up at the moment.”

“Sure,” Roger said, slinging an arm over my shoulder in a brotherly, comforting way. “Let’s see what we can do.”

As it turned out, the tall guy really just needed to check with Frankie on how his latest piercing was healing. Since Roger had done a fair bit of piercing in his time, he was able to handle the issue. I hid in the break room like a big fat coward while the exchange was going on, emerging only when Roger escorted the customer into his studio to check out the problem.

I slunk behind the counter and sank into my seat with an embarrassed groan. Good God, that had been more than awkward. It was awful. How could I look at Frankie again after that?

I didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because four women fell through the door, laughing and talking loudly. Their shrill voices completely drowned out the electronic beep alerting their entrance.

“Here we go again,” I mumbled to myself. “Hi, ladies, what can I help you with?”

“We want to get tattoos,” the redhead cooed. “All of us, the same one.”

“Sure,” I said, grabbing some consent forms and clipboards to cover my nerves. “What did you have in mind?”

“We all want the Japanese symbol for ‘sexy,’” the shortest one said. “Here.” She thrust a crumpled piece of paper across the counter at me.
 

I spread it out and took a look. “Okay, that sounds fine. Let me just double-check the meaning of it really quick for you.”

“What do you mean, double-check? That’s what it means, and that’s what we want.” The girl’s glare cut right through me. “Are you saying we’re stupid?”

“No, not at all.” I shifted my weight nervously, not having expected such a bitchy response. On one hand, Tasha had said to make the customers comfortable, be sure they felt welcome at Sinful Skin. On the other hand, she’d said that it was really easy to mistake the meaning of words in other languages, especially Asian characters. They could be tricky. “Always double-check,” she’d admonished me the day before. “I don’t care if they say it’s their native language. Double-check. Period.”

“Let me get an artist out here, and he can go over what you want,” I finally said, admitting defeat. I’d have to pull in reinforcements to make sure these girls weren’t tattooing “Sweet and Sour Pork” on their asses. Even though the mental image made me laugh, it wouldn’t do Sinful Skin’s reputation any good.

I picked up the phone with nervous fingers. “Hey, Neill, I’ve got some customers out here. Can you come give me a hand?”

Neill

I’d been going over that sketch again, correcting a line there, adding depth to the shading here. I’d been staring at Hailey’s face for twenty minutes solid, so when her voice came through the intercom, I jumped like I’d been shocked with a frayed power cord.

“Sure,” I said, slamming the book shut, even though she wasn’t in the room. “Be there in a second.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I shoved the sketchbook deep into a drawer. Giving my hair a quick run-through, I straightened and headed out to the counter to lend Hailey a hand. As I crossed the lobby floor, a group of scantily dressed women smiled and laughed in my direction.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” I said with a broad smile, turning on the charm for the female customers. “What can we do for you today?”

“We’ve got this Japanese symbol we all want put on our hips.” A redheaded siren stepped forward, almost teetering on her overly high heels.

“That’s nice.” I turned the paper in my hands, keeping a straight face. “We can make this look really good for you ladies. Now, I’ve got a couple other artists here. We can have two of you being tattooed at once, if that’s cool.”

They glanced at one another in that secretive way women had. I could swear they were communicating telepathically when they did that. It was almost creepy.

“No, we all want the same artist,” the redhead said with a sexy smile. “Can you do us all?” Her girlfriends giggled and chimed in with “Yes, do us!”

I was only a guy. For a brief second, my brain went there. But I shook it off quickly—at least, I hoped it was quickly. Way too much risk, not enough reward. And then I glanced over at the counter. Hailey.

Her brows were drawn slightly, the corners of her full lips downturned. She was looking into her lap at her clasped hands, picking at her cuticles. Was she jealous? She shouldn’t be. The idea pleased me just a little bit.

“Sorry, ladies, but I’ve got an appointment arriving in half an hour. Let me introduce you to Roger. He’ll be happy to take care of all you guys.”

I sauntered past the ladies and moved behind the counter, which put me only inches from a seated Hailey. Much more aware of my new receptionist than the four women who’d practically thrown themselves at me, I punched Roger’s extension. “Hey, Rog, come up here. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“On my way,” Roger called. A brief second later, he and an extremely tall dude exited the studio. “Just remember, man, keep it clean. Twice a day with that antimicrobial soap, and sea-salt soaks every other day. Just call if you have any questions.”

“Thanks, man,” the guy said, pounding Roger’s fist before exiting.

I glanced over at Hailey, who’d released a heavy breath when the door swung shut behind the guy. Making a mental note to be sure she hadn’t been upset by the client, I turned to watch the show.

“Hello, ladies.” Roger turned his lethal smile on the four women. He rubbed at his flat belly, the hem of his shirt accidentally getting caught by his pinky and raising enough to let them glimpse his abs. “I hear you need some ink?”

“Hey, Neill.” Hailey tapped me on the arm. “I didn’t get a chance to check that kanji. Don’t we need to do that?”

I nodded, gratified by her quick thinking. I turned my attention to the redhead. “Hey, what was your name again?”

“Mel,” she replied with a smile, leaving her friends to coo over Roger.

“Mel, let me see your image really quick.”

She pulled it from her too-tight jeans pocket, and I pretended not to see Hailey’s eye roll at the dramatic production. Bending to Hailey’s computer screen, I pulled up the favorites bar. “I don’t know if Tasha got a chance to show you this, but here’s how we check for correct foreign characters. You type in the meaning here, and it’ll bring up the corresponding images. Or, if you have the kanji, you can put in the lines on this graph and it’ll load the meaning.” I demonstrated by copying the marks on the paper that Mel had given me. When I clicked the word “go,” a set of words popped up that had Hailey covering her mouth to keep from laughing, and me biting my tongue.
Keep it professional, man.

“Is something wrong?” Mel’s short friend peered over the counter, while the rest of her girlfriends flirted with Roger.

“No, not really,” I said, trying like hell to keep the laughter out of my voice. “I’m just going to do a little adjustment to your symbol here. Make it prettier for you guys. By the way, where’d you get this kanji?”