Present Day
My arms were crossed, my face hard as stone, looking up at him through furrowed brows, as I engaged in the most intense stare down of my life.
Luke was equally as stone-faced, his wide shoulders set back, his arms mimicking mine, crossed over his chest.
“He’s expecting you to show up at 3:00 p.m.”
“That’s not my problem. I never agreed to work for Seb,” I told him for the millionth time. But that was Luke. Mr. Fix-It. He had always been the one to jump to telling me what I should do, offering advice when I never asked, getting me a job with the one person I despised more than anyone.
“Lyds,” he sighed, his head falling back in frustration. “What is your problem with him? You guys got along fine back in the day when you used to follow us around like a puppy dog.What is your deal? Did you two get into a fight that I don’t know about or something?”
We got into something, although I wasn’t sure how he didn’t know about it after it spread through town like wildfire.
I had absolutely zero interest in getting into it with him now though. I racked my brain, trying to come up with a good excuse as to why I couldn’t work for Sebastian Devereux, but I couldn’t think of a single damn thing that would get me out of this without telling Luke the real reason.
“He needs the help. You need a job. He’s an artist. You love art. He’s all charm and swagger in person but might as well live in the stone age when it comes to social media. You have experience building a following to showcase talented work. It’s a match made in fucking heaven,” he groaned. The look in his eyes softened, making me feel all stupid and bad. “You said you needed the money, plus it’ll give you a reason to stick around a little longer. We miss you, Lyds.”
Ugh. “Fatherhood is going to make you a sap, you know that, right?” I shot back with a reluctant half smile. “Fine. I’ll go talk to Seb and see what he needs. Happy?”
“Yup.” He grinned.
I shook my head and left him standing in Dad’s kitchen. If I was going to show up at Seb’s tattoo shop, I was going to need to armor up.
Three o’clock on the dot, I pulled up in front of SD Ink and put my car in park. My hair was clean and styled. I had paired a black graphic tee with black leather pants and a black leather jacket. The look screamed effortless but still looked damn good. I couldn’t let Seb think that I was trying to impress him, because I wasn’t. It was more of a revenge hot girl look than anything.
I listened to another song on my playlist, building up the courage that I needed before I stepped inside. It wasn’t just that it was Seb—ugh—but a job, here in Calla Bay… it made this feel more permanent. The first step to clawing some semblance of a life back, but was I ready for that? It felt like every decision was weighted with anchors, sitting heavy in my chest. Was this the right one? Or would this prove to be yet another example of why I shouldn’t be allowed to make my own choices? I slipped my armor in place, steeling my breath and straightening my spine. Whatever happened, I wasn’t going to show any cracks tohim.
When I walked into the shop for the first time, my eye was immediately drawn to the wall of sketches and photographs. The original design that was drawn up and the final result of the tattoo side by side showcased some true talent. The tattoos popped off the skin, the colors, shading, and lines impeccably done to create the illusion of depth and movement. I lightly swiped my thumb over the image of an eagle, expecting to feel the texture of the wings beneath my touch instead of the flat photograph.
“You’re late.”
I rolled my eyes before turning around to face Seb. Pointedly looking around the empty tattoo shop, I asked, “For what?”
“Luke said you’d be here for 3:00 p.m. I cleared my calendar for this.”
“It’s 3:04 p.m.” My eyes shot daggers at him.
Between the slow smirk and the twinkle in his eye, I already knew I was going to regret coming here.
“It’s fine, little wild. I’m just fucking with you.” He winked. Like that’s what I needed, him winking at me like we were insome sort of inside joke together.
“I don’t need you fucking with me. Just tell me what you need me to do for you so we can make a plan and I can get out of this dingy place.”
That was a lie. It was actually really freaking clean inside. He had large south-facing windows onto Main Street that let in a good amount of natural light. The floor plan was open and spacious. Nothing was out of place, and the smell of disinfectant lingered lightly in the air.
“Fuck off. My shop isn’t dingy.” His brown eyes narrowed in aggravation. “And lose the fucking attitude, Lydia. Remember, I’m doing you a favor here, not the other way around.”
“Well, if neither of us actually wants me here, I’ll take my leave,” I told him with a fake sweet smile before turning back to the exit. I knew this was going to be a bad idea.
“You need a job, Lydia,” he called to my back in a musical tone.
“You need customers, Sebastian,” I mocked back at him.
He threw his hands up in front of him in surrender. “Truce?”
I didn’t want a truce with Sebastian Devereux, but I also needed money. This didn’t need to be permanent. I could set aside my pride for a few weeks, save enough to get the hell out of Dodge—and not back to the apartment in the city. Never back there.
“Fine.” I rolled my dark-lined eyes as I huffed out a heavy breath.
