Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
King
Most days, I love what I do. In fact, I love everything about it.
I love meeting with the clients, creating their vision through art, tattooing it on their skin, and seeing their face with the final product. It’s an addicting process.
I’ve been doing this long enough that I know the specific types of designs I like to stick to. The clients I like to work with. I’m not normally one to take walk-ins or take on designs that are out of the norm for me. Darla knew that.
Darla was always good at figuring out when a client came in, which artist they would mesh the best with. I figured she would’ve given Sawyer some notes on how to do the same, but apparently not.
Or maybe she did and Sawyer’s just trying to piss me off. Now that I think of it, that’s probably the option that makes the most sense.
Sawyer’s become a bit of an enigma to me over the past few weeks. She’s demanding and stubborn, and if the bar incident told me anything, she’s overdramatic. But then she also has this charisma about her that’s magnetic.
Even when she’s pissing me off, I feel this pull toward her.
She makes me uncomfortable yet comfortable at the same time.
I’ve been avoiding her the best I can since she started working here while trying not to be a complete ass, but I feel like she thinks I am one anyway. Which is probably for the best.
It’s better if she doesn’t like me. I’m her boss, and most people hate their bosses. It’s only natural.
Except that’s not the real reason why I don’t want her to like me. The truth is, it’s easier if she doesn’t like me because then she’ll keep her distance, and I need that distance between us.
I’ve tried to be a little better about completely avoiding her these last few days after seeing her with my daughters. Willow liked her, but that’s no surprise. Willow likes everyone.
What did surprise me was Ellie. My eldest isn’t a people person. She can be standoffish to most, and it takes a lot for her to let you in. It also isn’t common for her to like a person so easily.
But she did like Sawyer.
I eavesdropped on a little of their conversation. Sure, probably not the most mature thing to do, but she’s my daughter, and I feel like that gives me full permission to eavesdrop.
While the conversation may have seemed superficial to most, I know that it wasn’t. To Ellie, music is personal. It’s not something she shares with just anyone, let alone a stranger she just met.
Then she brought her up again on the way home. I asked her about what vinyls she bought, and she told me about them, hesitating for only a second before telling me. Sawyer told her she has good taste in music.
Willow chimed up immediately from the back, saying that she liked Sawyer, and when I turned to Ellie, she had a small smile on her face when she said, “Me too.” For Ellie to like her so quickly, to start trusting her, means a lot.
So, at the very least, I’ve tried a little harder to be better about not avoiding her as much ever since. Not anything too crazy, just saying hello to her in the morning, or checking in on her once during the day, and saying goodbye.
But it’s progress.
Things have been going semi-better, I guess. Until today.
Because today, she decided to piss me the fuck off.
Like I said, I rarely do walk-ins, but today, I had some free time and told her if anyone comes in who she thinks would match my style, then to send them my way. Instead, she sent me the housewife from hell who has no clue what type of tattoo she’s even looking for.
I’ve been sitting with her for twenty-five minutes now as she goes back and forth with her friend about whether she wants a butterfly, a crown, or a rose. When I asked her where she was wanting the tattoo, her response was, “Well, where does it hurt the least? I don’t like pain.”
After having had enough, I tell them to think it over for another few minutes and that I’ll be right back. I make my way out to the lobby, where I find Sawyer leaning back in her chair behind her desk on her phone. I clear my throat, and she looks up at me.
I’m sure the annoyance on my face is beyond obvious, but either she really doesn’t notice or she just doesn’t care.
“What’s up, boss?” She sits up straighter in her chair and smiles innocently at me.
“In what world, after seeing the majority of my clientele and the work that I normally do, would you think that the client you just sent me would be a good fit?” I ask her, making sure to keep my voice quiet so they don’t hear me from the other room.
“Oh, I didn’t.” She laughs under her breath.
“Then why did you send them to me and not Sky or Asher, who frankly have much more patience than I do?” I ask her.
Anytime there’s someone who comes in unsure of what they want or seemingly unsure if they even want a tattoo, Sky or Asher are the best people to take them on. The two of them are patient, understanding, and helpful in ways that Kade and I simply aren’t.
There was a point in time when I first opened this shop that I had to deal with every type of client and did pieces I hated doing. But it’s been over a decade now, and I have multiple other employees specifically so I don’t have to do that anymore.
Yet, because of Sawyer, here I am again.
“Well, honestly?” She pauses. “I like Sky and Asher. I didn’t feel like sticking those two on them.” She shrugs, an amused smile on her face.
“You do know that I’m your boss, right?” I ask her, crossing my arms over my chest, her obvious entertainment of the situation just making me more frustrated.
“I’m aware.” She pops her gum.
I stare at her and wait for her to say anything else in her defense, but she doesn’t. She just sits there and watches me. I force myself to take a deep breath, trying to force down my emotions, not wanting her to see exactly how much she affects me, even though I’m sure it’s obvious at this point.
“Just send them to Sky or Asher next time,” I finally say, turning my back to her and walking back to my room.
I can hear a small trace of her laughter as I go, and I have to force myself to keep walking away from her. Fuck, I hate how much she gets to me. It’s like a jumble of feelings and emotions that I have no clue what to do with.
If this were anyone else, I’d calmly ask them to direct the clients to someone else next time and move on. I wouldn’t have this type of full-body reaction that I am now.
She does shit like this, and I don’t know whether I want to scream or kiss her just to force her to feel as unsteady as I do around her.
But I can’t do either.
So instead, I suck it up, walk back into my room, and spend the next hour helping the woman decide what she wants and eventually tattoo a small butterfly onto her wrist.
Luckily, the rest of my day is filled with appointments, and I barely see Sawyer until the day comes to an end around nine at night. I knew it would be a late night considering I still have to do inventory, so luckily my parents agreed to pick Ellie and Willow up from school and spend the night at my house tonight.
My kids are old enough to be left alone for short periods of time now, but I don’t like leaving them if I know I’ll be out late.
I’ve been lucky over the years that my parents live close enough to me that they can come help when I need it. Plus, Ellie and Willow have the two of them wrapped around their fingers. Can’t say it’s not the same for me either.
Inventory nights are annoying, but they go by pretty quickly. Since I like to double-check the shipments and supplies myself, I’ll normally spend one night a month doing it with one other person, either whoever volunteers or who I can convince to help me.
Kade and Gabe already left, so that leaves Asher, Trix, or Sky. Or, I guess, Sawyer, but that’s my last option.
When I make my way out into the lobby, lucky enough for me, all three of them are out there. Asher’s standing across the desk from Sawyer, talking to her, while Trix and Sky are talking on the couch.
“Hey, guys,” I say, grabbing their attention as I walk out, avoiding eye contact with Sawyer the best that I can. “Inventory night, who’s staying with me?”
“Sorry, boss. I have a date,” Trix says, quickly jumping up from the couch. “See ya,” she calls out behind her as she practically runs down the hallway toward the back exit.
“I did it last month,” Sky says. “I feel like that should exempt me from this time, right?” She looks at me hopefully.
“Yeah, you’re good. You can go.” I sigh.
“Thanks, King.” She smiles. “See you guys tomorrow.” She waves goodbye to Asher and Sawyer.
“Ash?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to call pregnant wife on this one.” He shrugs. “Dem texted me about twenty minutes ago that she has a craving for cookie dough ice cream, so I estimate I have another fifteen minutes to get home with some before she starts crying.”
“I get it, it’s fine.” I nod at him, understanding. “I can just do it myself tonight, my parents have the girls anyway.”
“I can stay.” Sawyer speaks up, surprising me.
“Perfect.” Asher smiles, looking between the two of us. “I better go get that ice cream. Have fun, you two.” He winks at me before heading toward the back entrance, leaving Sawyer and I alone.
Silence surrounds us as each of us waits for the other person to say something. There’s a lingering tension from earlier, but neither of us bring it up. It seems to be a trend between us. Ignoring things.
Eventually, she clears her throat, standing from her chair and walking out from behind the desk.
“Wanna get started?” she asks, nodding her head toward the inventory room.
“You don’t actually have to stay,” I tell her, unsure if it’s the best idea for the two of us to be alone here together.
“I don’t mind.” She shrugs.
“I can just do it myself,” I say.
“Won’t it go faster with the two of us?” she asks.
“Yes,” I admit.
“Okay, then I’ll stay,” she says simply.
“Are you sure?” I ask her again.
“Stop being stubborn. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” She raises a brow at me. “Now, can we get started, or do you want to discuss your difficulty in accepting help from me some more?”
I grind my teeth to stop the laugh that threatens to escape. “We can get started.” I nod my head for her to go ahead.
I follow her into the stockroom that suddenly feels smaller with just the two of us inside of it. It’s quiet as we start going through the original inventory first before we begin to unpack the boxes and add to it. Each of us keeps to ourselves, Sawyer taking one side of the room while I take the other.
About fifteen minutes goes by before she breaks the silence.
“Do you have any music?” she asks, her voice sounding anxious. “I can’t do silence, it makes me jittery.”
“You sound like Ellie,” I mumble. “Here.” I unlock my phone and open the music app, handing it to her. “It’s connected to the speaker over there, put on whatever you want,” I tell her.
“Thanks.” She looks at me skeptically as she takes the phone from me.
A minute passes before a song that I don’t recognize plays through the speaker. She hands me my phone back, and I see she put an album by The Neighbourhood on shuffle. I set it back down on the table, letting the music play.
“Trusting me with your phone,” she says, looking at me like she’s trying to figure something out. “Interesting.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask. “I don’t have anything to hide,” I say.
“Really?” she asks, surprise in her voice.
“Really,” I tell her.
“Hmm.” She smirks. “Then do you care to answer some questions?” she taunts.
My answer should be no. Actually, it should be fuck no. Sawyer’s a wild card. She could ask anything. She doesn’t seem like someone who knows boundaries.
Playing this game with her is dangerous, and yet, with the glimmer in her eyes, I can’t seem to turn her down.
“Fire away,” I say, knowing that in a few minutes, I’ll sure as hell be regretting it.