“That’s what Lee said.”
“Lee’s a smart girl.”
“Yeah? She said you taught her that.”
Brix said nothing, adding to Calum’s inkling that Lee’s journey to Brix’s studio hadn’t been a smooth one, and ventured closer, peering over Calum’s shoulder at the simple peacock feather he was etching on the young woman’s hip. “Nice.”
“Will be when I’ve finished.”
“I’ll bet.” Brix turned his gaze to the woman. “How are you doing down there? Not too painful is it?”
The woman shook her head. “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”
“That’s ’cause Calum here’s got the gentlest touch in the business. You picked a good day to walk in here. Tell your friends.”
He left Calum to it and drifted to his own station. Calum felt his attention drawn to Brix, but the buzz of the gun was stronger than his fast-growing attachment to Brix, and it wasn’t long before he lost himself in the task at hand, not looking up until the feather was complete.
“All done.” He shut the gun off and pushed his stool back. “Do you want to check it out?”
The woman staggered to her feet like most people did when they’d been under the needle for a couple of hours. Calum steadied her, and then guided her to one of the huge gothic mirrors in the studio, bracing himself for the torturous wait to see if the woman liked what he’d done. He hadn’t had many negative reactions, but the way his luck had gone recently—
“Oh my God. I love it.”
Calum let out a breath. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah.” The woman turned her body from side to side, viewing the tattoo from every angle. “The detail is amazing. Is the eye made of dots?”
“Yeah, with some white ink. Dot work is my specialty, so I find it really hard not to sneak it in somewhere.”
“I love it. Thank you so much.”
“No worries. Come back to me when you’re ready and I’ll wrap you up for your journey home.”
The woman nodded absently, still entranced by her ink. Calum left her to it and returned to his station to clean up.
Lena was waiting for him. “I think I’ve got one of your clients coming in tomorrow.”
“What?”
“I just heard you say that dot work is your specialty, and Brix told me you had a studio in Paddington.”
“So?” Calum turned his back on Lena and started dismantling his borrowed tattoo gun for cleaning.
“This guy was booked in for a dot-work leopard at a studio in London. Said he’d waited months to get in with the best dot-work artist in the city, only to find out that the studio had closed down overnight.”
Calum’s stomach did an uneasy flip. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want to know if we’ve got the best dot-work artist in London on our books, no other reason, Calum, I swear. No one here will give a shit about the rest of it. The fact that you’re Brix’s friend is enough.”
“Cheers.”
“Cheers? That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Are you CJ Hardy or not?”
“No. I’m Calum Hardy.” Calum didn’t turn around, but Lena appeared on the other side of the chair, her gaze almost as piercing as Brix’s. Almost. Calum sucked in a breath. “Whatever. I worked at the studio. But I didn’t own it. Whatever’s happened since I left is nothing to do with me.”
