SOPH
Currently playing: Groundhog Day by Em Beihold
I’m walking toward the Brooklyn location of King Tattoo four weeks after my accident. It was pelting down all weekend, but fate finally decided to give me a break. This morning is one of the sunniest I’ve experienced in a month. It also might be that I was rarely up before noon when working at Warm'n'Cool. When I see the first glimpse of the storefront, my stomach turns unpleasantly. I’m beyond nervous to walk in after destroying Jax’s bike and landing in the hospital. It's the first time I'll see Jax after his visit, and I hope we both know how to be professional.
As I’m opening the glass front door to the shop, a heavily tattooed Hispanic guy who looks to be in his 30s beats me to it. He shoots me a broad smile. His dark eyes sparkle in the morning sun. “After you, bonita.”
I blush at being called pretty. “Gracias.”
He smiles and nods as I walk into King Tattoo ahead of him. It’s the first time I’ve seen the place in person, and the pictures don’t do it any justice. The walls are a dark shade of red, like sangria. It somehow calms the shop and invites you in, even though the color would be too much somewhere else. The waiting area has sizable black leather sofas and a coffee table with black binders. I open one of them with my right hand, and as expected, different tattoo designs greet me from the pages.
I put the binder away and look around the space, finding art covering more than half of the walls. Most of them are detailed tattoo designs that must take hours to put on someone’s skin. I also spot charcoal portraits of people and other art pieces. It feels like home with these small artsy details.
I walk to a wall with framed photos of customers and see at least seven players of the local ice hockey team, The Peacocks—I only recognize them because Haisley’s dad is the GM of the team. Haisley often invites me to be her plus one to different charity events and games, so I’ve met many of the players. I even had a fling with one of the guys last year before he got traded.
Somewhere in the shop, a door opens and closes. I hear Jax before I see him. The hair on my neck stands up, and goosebumps cover my arms.
“Dom. I’ve been waiting for you to help me with something, amigo.”
“Buenos días jefe, let me grab a cup of coffee, and we can go over it. But before that, someone’s waiting up front.”
I turn to the sound of their voices when I realize that the guy is referring to me. When Jax comes from around the corner, I swallow a moan that tries its best to get out. The way he looks should be illegal in at least ten states.
His rolled-up shirt sleeves reveal his toned arms full of designs—I can see a compass, roses, a skull, and more colorful images across his skin. His black hair is just like when he was drinking at the bar. And those green eyes haunting my dreams look me up and down, making my body shiver. My over-the-top reactions to him need to stop before he notices.
Looking down at myself, I realize that maybe my outfit wasn’t the best for my first day working in a new place. I had no idea what to wear and decided to put on the edgiest clothes in my entire closet. I’m unsure if they go well with my sling, which I have to wear for a few more days, but at least I look good if I ignore it. My lacy shirt has long sleeves and a built-in tank top, ensuring that not too much skin shows. My wetlook leggings are like leather pants without making me feel too warm, and my high heel boots are similar to those I wore when driving Isla.
Clearing his throat, Jax forces a smile, looking unhappy to be in the same room with me. “Miss Kennedy, welcome to King Tattoo. It looks like you met Dom—he’s one of our tattoo artists. I’m sure you’ll meet the rest later today. Nelly should arrive here any minute, and she usually brings us something sweet like cookies on Monday mornings.”
If I’m not mistaken, he seems a bit nervous too. I’m glad I’m not the only one. “Morning, Mr. Bennett.” I want to roll my eyes for calling him that. “And yeah, Dom arrived at the same time as me.”
“Cool. Um, let’s start with a shop tour, and then I’ll show you the booking system. You take calls, make bookings, and plan rearrangements if needed. I would ask if you’re familiar with handling money, but I assume my cousin covered all that in the interview before hiring you.”
I don’t miss the bite in his voice as he speaks. “King was very thorough while we chatted; thanks for asking.”
“Glad to hear,” Jax says, sarcasm lacing his tone, and turns around without another word. I follow him around the shop as he continues telling me more about my new job and what he expects from me. It all seems straightforward and something I can see myself enjoying. He keeps his tone neutral and professional the entire time. No jokes or any innuendos like I expected.
The shop has private rooms for every tattoo artist, and each artist is responsible for their workspace. If Jax wants to hire more people, two empty rooms are available in the back. The stock room next to the small employee break room has long walls covered in shelves holding everything you need for tattooing. My favorite part is all the bottles of ink in assorted colors.
After the first fifteen minutes of the onboarding, the front door opens, and a flurry of red hair and bright tattoos fill my vision. The smell of jasmine and sugar cookies flows around us as the newcomer hugs me. I try to wrap my head around a random person touching me like we’re best friends.
The stranger must sense my stiffness as she steps away and looks me up and down. “Oh shit, did I hurt your arm?”
“No, it’s all good.”
She lets out a relieved sigh and keeps looking at me with wonder in her eyes. “Oh my, you’re even more gorgeous than Jax described!”
“Um, thanks, I guess.”
Jax must sense my hesitation. “Sophia, meet Nelly, one of ourtattoo and body modification artists. Nelly, this is our new hire, Sophia.”
I remember Jax mentioning someone named Nelly bringing baked goodies every Monday. I smile as I glance down to see where she stopped to buy the cookies. The bag has the sticker of my parents’ bakery— it's only a twenty-minute walk from here. I can easily walk to work and back on sunny days like today.
“Just call me Soph,” I inform Nelly, who smiles from ear to ear. She looks like she’s ready to burst with excitement. I find it odd yet endearing.
“Sorry, Soph, but I’m just so excited to be rid ofthe Wicked Witch of the Westthat I got carried away. If you don’t like hugs, I’ll stop giving them. Just tell me, and I will behave, I promise.”
I snort before I can stop myself, and a laugh bubbles out of me.The Wicked Witch of the West isan accurate way to describe Tiffany based on my impression of her. I can’t stop snickering, and Nelly joins me. Someone clears their throat behind us after a while. We turn around to see Jax with arms crossed over his chest.
