I was exhausted but excited, so I stopped at a cute little cafe, Oh, Beans!, for coffees and muffins. Caffeine and carbs for me, good first impression on the new bosses.
As I stepped through the door of the tattoo shop, I was greeted by the owners, Roxy and Dane.
“We’re really happy to have you,” Roxy said. She was a short woman with colorful tattoos over both arms and a shock of purple in her otherwise brunette hair.
“We really are. We ran into a problem we had no idea how to deal with.” Dane was taller than Roxy by a lot, but if it wasn’t for the tattoos and stretched ears, I could have mistaken him for a banker.
“Thank you.” My stomach was in knots, but they seemed nice enough.
They led me to an office and then got right to the point.
They explained about being review-bombed by a wannabe customer and their friends. How they were already competing with a cutthroat new shop down the road and that business was suffering. “We are hoping to get a bunch of positive reviews to drown out the negative ones, but with business going down, we need some help. There’s another shop that opened up down theblock six months ago or so. If someone plans to do a walk-in, they’ll go to the place with the best rating. That was us until a few days ago.”
We bounced ideas around for a half hour or so before the staff arrived.
“Meredith, this is Ivy, our piercer. Dax and Nova are our other tattoo artists.”
“Have you been to Springwood before?” Nova asked politely, snagging a muffin from the box on the table.
I nodded. “My friend, Rosalind, got married here a few months ago, and I was in town for that. She and her sister are both friends of mine, and both moved here in the last year.”
“How do you like it?” Dane asked. He was dunking a tea bag in an oversized mug that saidHave the Day you Deserveon the side.
“It’s a really cute city. Smaller than Vegas obviously, but the commute doesn’t take an hour, and I’m excited for the mix of downtown vibes and hiking and skiing.”
I had lived in Nevada for a long time, so I wasn’t sure what the winter would be like , but I could worry about that later.
This city had one thing that Nevada definitely didn’t, and that was the guy I had slept with when I was here in the summer for Rosalind’s wedding. At my previous job, I had hung out with the rich and famous — although not as an equal — seen the nightlife, met the movers and the shakers. Yet the only one who had ever left me actually shook was Luke
I pulled myself out of my head and continued to make small talk with the staff, trying to be friendly but professional.
I had been fired from my last job.
Fired.
I felt like the stink of failure clung to my skin. Even if thiswas just a one-month contract, it gave me a chance to prove myself. To either set my career in the right direction or fail again. I couldn’t let anything keep me from my goals.
“I’m here, sorry,” a voice I recognized said, coming down the hallway.
“And last but not least, this is our apprentice, Luke.”
Luke and I locked eyes across the lobby, and my heart stopped. Shit, he still looked as good as he had the last time I’d seen him. Tall and muscular. Tattooed and thick. I knew all too well what was under the jeans and crisp white t-shirt he wore. I had thought of him often since our night together, usually with a hand or shower head between my thighs.
Under other circumstances, I’d be trying to figure out if he was interested in another round. Having just been fired and lucked into a new gig, I had to put my most professional foot forward. Which meant keeping both feet on the ground, not wrapped around Luke’s head.
I had a problem to solve to make this shop work. I already knew that was going to be tough. Keeping on task and professional when temptation in human form was working beside me? That would be a whole extra challenge.
Chapter Three
Luke
“Morning, Granny Franny,” I said as I stepped into the seniors center. It was early as hell, but apparently anyone over seventy didn’t sleep past sunup.
“Luke, morning.” Franny got up and gave me a long hug. Her familiar lavender smell calmed my nerves. Normally, she would be sitting having coffee with a group of other seniors, but I’d caught her alone. That was good because I needed her today.
“I brought you your favorites,” I said, handing her a box of shortbread cookies I’d picked up on the way.
She opened the box and offered me one. “You know you don’t have to bring me things.”
