Chapter Three
Sothea
“Sothea, you need to get right down here.”
My eyes were still closed, no need to open them just to answer the phone.
As much as I loved getting into the shop early when I was working, I loved sleeping in on my days off even more.
And everyone knew better than to poke a sleeping bear.
Everyone but Greta. “I don’t think so. Tell my brother to get his lazy ass in there. ”
“He is here. And he’s not lazy.”
“All right, then. Is there a sudden run on tattoos? Line out the door? Greta, you can help out. You need to keep your hand in anyway. And I need this day off.” We’d been so busy all week, my early mornings had been bleeding into evenings. “Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Sothea. Open your eyes.”
I did, before wondering how she knew they were closed. “Greta, please tell me why you need me down there. What can’t wait? You guys feeling okay?”
“Someone got your tattoo.”
“Someone got my…from the machine?” I sat up, running a hand through my hair.
“Just talk them into something else. Let him have another grab.” Maybe I’d have pancakes for breakfast. Or frozen waffles with blueberry syrup.
Now that I was awake, eyes open, I wouldn’t be going back to sleep any time soon.
“Sothea, you wouldn’t be saying that if you could see him.”
Standing, I stifled a yawn behind my hand. “Seen one cute omega, you’ve seen them all. Now, mind if I get back to my day off?” Waffles, definitely. The pancakes would involve mixing and getting a bowl dirty. Just-add-water was more work than most people thought.
“Yes, I mind. You were the most pathetic thing the other day, and now you’re just oh well, if Fate stepped in and this is my omega, no big deal.”
“No, it’s not that. But don’t you think it’s awfully coincidental that as soon as we put it in there—and it was pretty high in the machine too—someone gets it?”
“Okay.” Her voice was tight, frustrated, but at least she hadn’t been awakened on her day off. “No, you’re just being stubborn. Sothea, you live upstairs. It’s not like I’m asking you to come from the next state.”
“Bett—”
“It’s time to pay up.”
“For what?” I was starting to think it might be easier to go down and convince the customer to let my brother do something else.
Give him a second try at the machine if he liked.
Sure, I would love it if putting that flash in the machine gave Fate the nudge she needed.
But that would be asking too much. Things didn’t go that way.
I’d been waiting too long to believe that.
“You owe me for taking that alphahole client for you.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter. When we bought this building, it had been a perfect fit.
A shop big enough for two of us—or three if Greta wanted to do some tattooing.
And two apartments above it. So we wouldn’t have additional mortgages or rents for living.
But it also meant, I was right there at the job even when I wasn’t working.
Or when my sister-in-law wanted to call in a debt.
“That was what, four years ago? Isn’t there an expiration on things like that? ”
“Did we just meet?”
No, no we had not. Greta would always honor a debt whether it was owed to her or someone else. She was honorable and annoying like that. “Give me a few minutes to brush my teeth and splash water on my face. I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll let the client know you’re on the way.” She made it sound so calm and logical but it was so much more.
Less than ten minutes later, I was dressed and on my way down.
If all went well, I’d be back up having breakfast shortly.
The stairs from the apartments were around back and while there was a back door to the shop, it was generally locked.
Faster to go around than dig the keys out of my pocket and unlock it.
So, I padded around the outside, trying not to let the sunshine cheer me up too much.
But I would not be giving that tattoo to anyone but my mate.
Giving. Selling. Same difference. I paused outside, taking a deep breath and preparing to explain to the customer why he was not going to be tattooed with my mate’s bear.
I shouldn’t have let Greta make that call, put it in the machine.
She just caught me at a low point. No bear for whoever this guy was.
But the moment I walked inside, the scent filled my nose, my lungs, my veins. Warm, spicy, and my bear roared inside me. As irate as I was. And I launched into an argument I had no business having.
Until I could no longer have the argument. Until I had to accept that my bear’s roar was not about someone stealing something not theirs.
Until I had to accept that he was my mate. But he was also a human, and likely had no idea what that might even mean.
What the hell was Fate thinking?