Authors: Auryn Hadley
Colby nodded, smiling at her lazily. "I think you'll do pretty good, Mack. Oh, and we don't work on drunks. I mean, we can pierce 'em if they insist, but it's better to tell 'em to come back."
"Can do. Anything I need to know about designs?"
He gestured to one of the large leather chairs behind her and pulled her around the half wall. Squatting in front of a cabinet, he slid out a drawer, displaying inks of all colors, along with mechanical equipment that she couldn't even begin to describe. That led to a brief explanation of what they did and how everything worked, including the limitations. Sitting at the back of the shelf was a color chart.
"Can I use that?" She pointed at the page with bars of color on it.
"Yeah, we just need that for ordering. Sure, babe." He passed the ink chart to her.
Taking it, she made her way back to the front desk, claiming it as her own space. There. she lay out her pens and moved a few items around, not even thinking about it when the phone rang.
"Sterling Ink," she answered.
A man was on the other end of the line, asking questions about pricing and how long it would take for a tattoo. She had no idea of what half of the words coming out of his mouth meant, so asked him to hold and pressed a button before turning behind her.
"Colby?"
He stood behind her, his arms crossed, his eyebrow raised. "Already out of your league?"
She just nodded. "Oh yeah.
He reached across her, grabbed the receiver, and mashed a button, answering with a rough "Yeah?"
Mack tried to listen to his answers, since she'd already learned the questions, and was able to sort out a few things. She heard him mention a design session and discuss hours and days. With a smile, he pushed the hold button again.
"Ya get brownie points for that. Schedule him an hour for design work. That's with you. He wants a piece that will go across his upper chest, like a collar, but stay under a T-shirt. If you can get him in early enough, we can start the first session with him."
He patted her on the shoulder and left, whistling softly. She grabbed the phone, and hit the button. She might not be a tattoo artist, but she was at least a tattoo designer now, and she kinda liked the idea.
Chapter 4
Around five o'clock, business began to pick up. First it was a guy here or there, then small groups wandering in. Some were just lookers, and Mack spotted those easily. Others wanted to know about cost, usually passing a rough drawing across the counter to her. When she told one guy that she could do something similar, he shook his head.
"Nope, want that, just like that. My kid drew it."
She nodded and asked him to wait while she made her way up the hall. Colby and Ryan were lounging in the break room, laughing at something, when she walked in. Both stopped, and looked at her, their expressions guilty.
"You both in trouble already?" she teased. "I got a guy wants this."
She held up the piece of paper, and Ryan gestured for her to bring it over. He was reclined with his feet propped on the table, a cup of coffee at his elbow. When she held it out, he shrugged.
"He doesn't want a better design?" he asked.
Mack shook her head. "Nope, his kid drew it."
"I got it," Colby said, listing off hours, colors, and a price for her to quote.
She turned to walk out of the room, and the guys started laughing again. With a sigh, she turned around. "Ok, what?"
Ryan blushed, and grabbed his coffee, taking a long drink. Colby just grinned. "I got caught checkin' out your ass. Bothered?"
With a laugh, she pulled her loose shirt up and hooked it on the waist of her jeans, then walked out. Behind her they laughed louder. She could just make out Ryan saying something, but it was too soft for her to hear the words. If this was how every day of her new job was going to go, Mack could deal with it.
By the time she'd quoted the price and got the client to fill out the necessary paperwork, Colby was there. With a kind hand, he escorted the man to a chair, leaving her to tackle the next. She turned down a few staggering drunks, and learned the names of more piercings than she even knew existed. Luckily the pricing for those was listed, and easy.
She took payments, scheduled appointments, and designed twelve tattoos that night. The clients were in love with each one. Sometime around ten pm, Colby called her name, and gestured for her to come over.
Mack pulled herself away from the clients, enjoying the laid back atmosphere, and wondered what it was that he wanted to give her shit about this time. As she approached, she saw the young man looking in a mirror at his arm, a pleased smile on his face.
"It's perfect!" the client said.
"Your first mutilation of the human body," Colby said, pointing at the tattoo.
Looking closer, she recognized the conglomeration of dots and lines that resulted in a molecule of DNA as a whole, but individually looked like little more than a random mess. She leaned closer, and nearly touched the man's arm, but Colby stopped her.
"Not without gloves, babe," he said. "Sorry, that's the rules."
"Yeah," she muttered. "It's damned good. Very nice," she told the guy, patting Colby on the shoulder before she went to find her seat.
His words made her realize one thing she'd overlooked when thinking about working at a tattoo shop: blood born pathogens. She started chemo in only a few days, and her immune system was going to tank. She had to remember that. She needed to get in the habit of being careful. While she couldn't stop working, chemo and radiation were going to kick her ass, but she had no other option. She'd been enjoying herself the entire evening, but that thought made reality slam back into her like a hammer to the head.
She felt completely at ease with Colby and his teasing. Oddly it was Ryan who had her being self conscious. Maybe it was because he was the Super Hot Guy she'd spent so many hours staring at, or maybe it was because he didn't act like the typical boss. When she made a mistake, and she'd made a few, he simply fixed it, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. Thing was, he didn't joke with her.
That's not to say he wasn't talkative, but it was always directed at Colby or the clients. She heard him chatting easily about most things, keeping the clients at ease and feeling important through out their session, but each time he talked to her, he seemed to get more and more reserved. She wondered what she'd done, or if he regretted hiring her already, but wasn't about to ask with so many people around.
Finally, the shift came to a close. She'd been drawing and scheduling clients, but at eleven o'clock, Ryan whispered in her ear to not take anyone else. She finished up the designs she was working on, and then picked up the paper for Colby's back.
Biting her lip, she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the tattoos he was covered in, trying to think of how to blend the concepts. The idea seemed to creep into her head like a vine, slowly winding around the harsh metals, retaking the nature on his body. Her pencil began to move, and she glanced up at Colby from time to time, trying to bring the emotion of his personality into the simple lines she was planning for his body.
"Mack?" someone asked.
She didn't hear it the first time, being immersed in the idea coming from her hands.
"Mackenzie?" Ryan said, again.
She gasped and sat up, dropping the page to her lap. "Yeah? Sorry?"
"Lock the door, would ya?" He was smiling at her. "We're done."
"Oh!"
She set the paper aside and did that, picking up a few empty drink containers and other assorted trash as she made her way back. Both Colby and Ryan were leaned over her desk. Well, not hers, but she'd claimed it. It had become her work space for the night. They talked softly, so she tossed the trash in the receptacle and started straightening frames, deciding that some aspects of closing had to be universal.
"It's good," Colby said. "That's fucking amazing actually. I mean, it's like the whole idea of what happens after humans. You see that one on the Discovery Channel?"
"No," Ryan said with a chuckle. "I don't even have TV, bro, you know that."
"Yeah, well it's like, what would the earth do if we weren't here, and shit. That's what this looks like. It's fucking amazing."
"It's kudzu and honeysuckle," she said, making both of them look. "Both are invasive, both are Japanese."
"How'd you know that?" Ryan asked. "I mean, you've been pulling obscure references out all night."
"I dunno," she admitted. "Some of it came with classes. We'd study Japanese style, and they'd reference the types of plants, or Egyptian. Some of it is just too many hours bored surfing the web." With an embarrassed smile, she tried to shrug it away.
"Ya did good today." His blue eyes caught hers, but he glanced away quickly. "We finished seventeen more than normal."
"Damn," Colby breathed. "So that's why my arms feel like lead. It was like they kept coming and coming. I barely got the damned irons clean, and there was another ready for the chair."
"Next time you take the damned tramp stamps though," Ryan teased. "That one, with the glaring boyfriend? Fucking bitch would not hold still."
Mack's eyes widened a bit. So far, Ryan had been very soft spoken, and she wasn't sure she'd heard him say a foul word, yet. Two in one sentence had to be a record.
"You're shockin' the help," Colby teased.
His head snapped over to her. "Yeah," he said, remembering that Mack was there. "Sorry, Mack."
"Seriously?" Colby asked. "She's not a fucking prude, man. I know; she told me."
Ryan threw up his hands and walked around the corner. That embarrassed smile was teasing his lips again.
Colby sank into her chair, laughing. "So, you got Ryan going."
"Going?" she asked, completely confused.
"Yep, he's being self-conscious. He had to be melting back there, but hasn't stripped off that damned long sleeve yet. If you let him, he'll wear it all summer too."
"Wait. He doesn't like his tats?"
Colby shook his head. "He loves his tattoos. He just doesn't like other people's opinions about them. He'll cave soon enough, but you have him watching his language and blushing like a little boy. What the hell did you do to him?"
She sighed and pulled up another chair. "Got caught having a melt down Tuesday. I got fired and had a shit day, so was sobbing my eyes out walking home."
"You?"
She nodded. "It was a pretty shit day. I mean, they had me work almost the whole damned shift before they had the balls to lay me off. Too few calls to justify the temps, they said, but my damned line rang non-stop."
"What'd ya do?"
"Call center, inbound sales."
"Sucks," he teased.
"Hairy balls," she agreed, making him laugh again. "So what's next, Colby? What do I need to do to help close down?"
"If I say sweep the lobby you aren't going to give me shit for being a chauvinist?"
"Not if you tell me where the broom is."
He showed her the cleaning supplies, and together they got to work. While Mack swept, he cleaned the tools one more time, and wiped down the chairs, paying special attention to the seams. They joked as they worked, and the time flew. It was nearly two am when they were done. Colby tossed his arm over her shoulders casually and dragged her back to the office where Ryan was staring at a screen, entranced.
"Dude, quitting time," he teased his boss.
Ryan looked up. "You're done already?"
"Yeah, Mack pitched in. I'm out, bro. You need a ride home, Mack?"
"It's not far," she said, gesturing in the general direction. "I can walk, Colby."
He shrugged. "Then it's not a problem. You said you walked, and it's fuckin late and we aren't exactly on the best side of town. I mean, if you don't want me to know where you live, that's cool as shit, but if you want a ride, I don't mind."
"Take the ride," Ryan said. "He's going that way."
"Ok, that's actually nice. I just don't want to put you out," she admitted. "Lemme grab my shit?"
He nodded, and she went to find her bag. Storing her art supplies carefully, she could easily hear the men's voices without the clients talking and music to drown them out. Her hands moved a bit slower as she listened, not even ashamed to be eavesdropping.
"Ryan, how long are you going to be stupid, man?" Colby asked.
"I dunno. Just lay off."
"If you didn't want her around, then why'd you hire her?"
Ryan sighed. "I like having her around. You saw her work! She's amazing."
The way he said amazing made Mack's stomach flip. She didn't think her art was that good, but he purred the word off his tongue. To have the Super Hot Guy refer to her in that tone made her smile in a way she hadn't since junior high.
"She's also cool as shit," Colby said. "We're keeping her, and that means you need to grow a fucking pair of balls. C'mon, how much more did we make tonight than last week?"
"Almost four thousand," Ryan said. "And she scheduled quite a few for next week. I mean, she has the flow, the idea, and damn, she can just whip up things that make the clients happy? Yeah. She's good."
"She's got the portfolio, man. She's already able to mimic our styles too. How long until she's an apprentice?"
"What?" Mack asked, coming around the corner.
Ryan tilted his head to Colby. "He thinks you should learn to tattoo."
"I don't know a thing about tattoos!" Her head flipped between them.
"More than you think," Ryan assured her. "Most of the hard part is the art. Using the tools just takes practice."
"And you'd need a tattoo," Colby said. "Maybe a nice tramp stamp? Get you to pull your little pants down to your ass?"
"Fuck," Mack said, laughing at him. "You are not tattooing my fat ass. Take me home and save your bad pickup lines."
Laughing, he slung his arm over her shoulder again, guiding her to the back of the building. "Baby, I'd hit that ass."
"Colby, you'd hit anything so long as it was warm and wet. I'm not even sure you'd need those," she shot back.
He laughed, nodding. "Probably true. Fuck. Tell me you're keeping the job, Mack?"
They'd reached the back door, and he pulled it open, then turned to lock it. She thought that was a bit odd, but assumed that locking Ryan in was probably safer than leaving him alone with the back door wide open.
"Yes, Colby, I'm keeping the job. At least until Ryan fires me."
"Shit. He's not about to fire you. Take a lot before that happens. Ryan Sterling doesn't exactly get along with most people, but when he does, it takes a fuck load before he gives up on them. He's one of the good ones, Mack. You make an honest effort, and he'll get your back."
He pressed a button on his key fob, and the lights of a truck flashed at the back of the small parking lot. Next to it, she couldn't help but notice the sport bike. It was bright yellow and black, the color catching her eye.
"Cute bike," she said, walking to the passenger side.
Colby chuckled. "What is it with you babes and the bikes?"