“What’s on the docket for today? I’ve posted all of the content I had, so unless I start recycling images, I need something new to post.”
His social media pages had been a lot more active, but it was easy to lose your audience if you didn’t keep them engaged with new and interesting content quickly. I didn’t want to lose the traction I had been building up.
“I have a client this morning, but it’s a private session. Then I have two more appointments after that. A consultation at 1:00 p.m., and Kyle is coming back in at 4:00 p.m. to work on his leg.”
“I’m going to need to be here for Kyle’s appointment, but if you don’t need me until then, I’ll probably just try to get some things done from home. Your house,” I corrected quickly. I had been staying at Sebastian’s for a week, and somehow, it had felt more like a home to me than staying at either my actual childhood home or with my brother. I was comfortable there, never feeling like I was in his way or a burden. Maybe because he didn’t hover over me, suffocating me, like the others did. Whatever the reason, it was weird, but I didn’t like to think about why.
Just then, the door opened, another one of Seb’s secret clients strolling through. I could always tell when it was going to be a private session, even if he hadn’t told me a minute ago that he had one scheduled. So far, this was his third. Always a woman, somewhere between forty and sixty, no obvious tattoos. It wasn’t that I was trying to be judgmental. Anyone could decide to get their first tattoo at any time. But something about this lady reminded me of the other two that Seb had seen in the last few months.
“Lisa, come in. You’re here early.” Seb’s smile was contagious as evidenced by the shy tip of her lips at his effusive greeting. “I’m not ready for you yet, but just take a seat, and I’ll get everything set up.”
Seb left to his private room in the back, leaving me with Lisa.
“Hi, I’m Lydia, his social media manager. Seb’s rude manners didn’t even offer you something to drink. Can I get you a water while you wait or anything?”
“Oh no, thank you. I’m too nervous to drink. It’ll go right through me,” she laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t need to share that.”
I smiled at her, trying to ease her nerves. “Don’t be nervous. You can’t tell him I said this, but Sebastian is a very talented artist.”
“Yes, I’ve seen some of his work. A friend of mine from our support group had him tattoo over her breasts, and it came out phenomenal.”
The bits and pieces started fitting together like a puzzle. Breast tattoos, support groups, private rooms to make sure the client felt comfortable. My chest squeezed for her, for all of them.
“Do you already have your design picked out, or is this your consultation visit?” I sat on the couch next to her as we chatted.
“Sebastian put together an amazing concept that will cover my breast and hide the fact that I don’t have a nipple anymore,” she gushed, touching her right breast. She seemed super comfortable sharing details, and I knew that sometimes nervous people liked to talk to keep their mind occupied. I was happy to be a listening ear for her while she waited for Seb to get everything set up for their session. “I still can’t believe he does these for free. So many women who go through a mastectomy or double-mastectomy procedures feel self-conscious after our surgeries. We have options to help us, but everything starts to feel like a money grab at some point.And after the cost of going through treatments and surgeries, the last thing we need is more people trying to take their cut of our misfortune.”
Goddamn, Seb. He was barely holding on to this business as it was, and he went and did multiple of these tattoos at no charge. Stupidly sexy, built like a linebacker, charming as sin, and now I had to come to terms with him being philanthropic and sweet too. It wasn’t fair.
“Absolutely. It’s asinine how much it costs to try to save a life. I remember after my mom passed how much my father struggled with money trying to dig himself out of that.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Lisa said, holding my hand in hers. I hated pity, always had, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like pity from Lisa. It felt like understanding. Maybe it was because Lisa was probably close to the same age my mom should have been.
“Thanks. And sorry you lost your breast.”
She tipped her head back laughing. “Thank you for that.”
“Lisa, I’m all set for you in here,” Seb called. His gaze shifted from her to me, a quizzical look in his eye. I wasn’t sure how long he had been there or how much of that he’d heard.
“Did you take a picture before you got here so you can have a before-and-after comparison?” I asked.
“Oh, no. I should have done that.” Lisa frowned.
“I would love to document the whole process for you, but only if you feel comfortable with that.”
“And you would post it on the internet?” she asked.
“That was my thought, but if you see the images and don’t want to share them, I can leave that up to you. Even if I don’t post them on the SD Ink socials, it could be something for you to have.”
“I think that would be really nice.” Lisa smiled, linking her arm through mine as we went across the space to where Seb was waiting for her.
“Ladies.” Seb gestured for us to enter. Lisa went through first, and after she passed, Seb stepped in front of me. The look he gave me wasn’t hard or soft; he didn’t seem annoyed or his usual happy self. He looked concerned. I patted his chest and met his eye contact.
“I’ll make sure it’s respectful, and I won’t post anything without Lisa’s permission. This should be her call, Seb.”
He looked down at where my hand was still resting on his pec. I pulled it back and let it drop to my side, waiting to see if he would let me into his private room. My heart beat faster the longer he let the silence linger.
“Lisa, go ahead and get comfortable,” he turned to her and said, his bulky frame moving aside to let me in the room. “If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”
