Chapter 2
Chapter Two
KASS
I take another bite of my burger and nod for what feels like the hundredth time since I last spoke.
The woman across from me has kind features that initially intrigued me when I came across her profile last week.
Since then, we’ve texted a little and agreed to go on this date today.
But now that I’m here, I’m not even sure how I could've seen potential in this.
Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice. I just don’t like being talked at for an hour. I should have known she’d be super chatty from the way she texted, but I just assumed she was trying to seem enthusiastic about meeting up. It’s so hard to tell over messages what a person is actually like.
Luckily, this is only a lunch date, and I already told her I have to go back to work after this. I won’t have to deal with the awkwardness of one of us wanting to extend the date and the other one saying no. I always feel awful doing that, but I usually have a good excuse lined up.
I check my watch, and I only have fifteen minutes before I have to start walking back to the shop.
I snag the waiter’s attention as he walks by, and I ask for the check.
As soon as my attention is back on her, she continues her story about how her cat had to have emergency surgery, or something like that.
I observe the way she tosses her blonde curls over her shoulder. The action pulls me into a memory of another gorgeous blonde I knew. One that I still love.
It’s been two years, but I can still hear her laugh ringing in my ears.
I can see the way she walked when she was feeling confident.
I shudder at the memory of her warm breath on my neck.
Her legs wrapped around my waist. I can feel her shaking body in my arms as she sobs.
The way she would cling to me, as if her sanity depended solely on my support.
We both knew it never did. Daisy could handle herself; she just liked having me around, so she didn’t always have to.
And I loved being that for her. I would have been that for her forever if she’d have let me.
My date must notice my attention wandering because she clears her throat to get my attention.
I glance up at her, not even realizing that my gaze had wandered down to my plate. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about work.”
“I guess it’s about that time, isn’t it?” Her eyes dart down to the table between us.
At first, I’m unsure why, until I look down and notice the check between us. I silently reach out and grab it, simultaneously reaching into my back pocket to pull out my wallet.
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to get lunch, you didn’t have to. What a gentleman.”
“Of course.” It’s all I can come up with to say. I hate this part of dates. Of course I’m going to pay, but can we stop pretending like she ever expected anything else?
The waiter comes by to take the check, and I take the opportunity when the conversation is paused to rack my brain, trying to remember what we were talking about.
“So, your cat’s okay now?”
“He is. The poor thing has to wear a cone for another week or so, but he’ll be back to normal soon, I’m sure.”
“That’s great.”
She goes on to talk about her cat’s post-op care routine. Even describing the topical gel she has to rub on his stitches so they heal. “It’s probably similar to what you give your clients after they get a tattoo done.”
I choke back a laugh. “Not quite.”
When the waiter brings back the check, I pocket my card and stand to put on my coat. We walk to the front of the restaurant and say our goodbyes before going outside.
“It was really great getting to finally meet you. We should do dinner sometime.”
“I’m really busy with work right now, so I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have in the next few months.
” I used to lie and say that I had a great time and that I’d reach out, but I learned that lying and then ghosting can be more painful than a slightly altered truth that gets the same message across.
Her face falls, and I think she understands that was my nice way of saying I’m not interested. “Okay. Well, have a great rest of your day.” She goes in for a hug, and I reciprocate it. “Bye!”
“Bye.”
We walk out the front door and head in opposite directions. Thank god. I got here first and waited for her inside, so I wasn’t sure where she parked her car. I was just praying that we wouldn’t need to share a sidewalk for the next couple of blocks and make small talk to fill the awkward silence.
A few blocks later, I’m stepping through the front door of my shop that I co-own with another tattoo artist. “Hey, Arlo. What are you up to?”
They look up from their tablet. “Just doing some last-minute touches on this piece before my client gets here.”
“Is it that classic snake piece you showed me?”
“Yep.” They turn their tablet around to flash me the screen.
I step closer to take in the details. The shade of green they chose is perfect. The black shading and chartreuse highlights add dimension, making the snake look like it’s jumping out of the screen at you. “That’s sick.”
“Hopefully, he likes it. He was being a little wishy-washy over his emails, so I’m interested to see how this goes.”
“Well, if he hates it, it’s only stuck on him forever.”
We both laugh at our chronically dumb jokes we tell each other when we’re nervous about an appointment.
When I first started tattooing people, I didn’t realize how stressful it could be.
Back then, I was blissfully ignorant until I had my first doozy of an appointment.
It seemed like nothing could go right. I reprinted the stencil and tried it on about ten times before they were finally happy.
And that was after redesigning what I thought they were describing several times before that.
In the end, they were relatively happy with the work, but I think we were both too exhausted from the hours of stress to fully appreciate what I accomplished.
Since then, I’ve spent years perfecting my craft in an attempt to avoid appointments like that.
But of course, they still happen from time to time.
“Well, good luck. I’ll be in my office if you need me for moral support.”
Arlo looks down at the snake with a hint of worry on their face. “Thanks.”
I get all but one hour of peace before I hear a knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Raina, the third artist who works at our shop, slips through the door and shuts it behind her. She takes a seat on the chair in front of me, worry written all over her face. “Sorry to bother you, but it’s a little time sensitive.”
I sit up a little straighter in my chair. “Is everything okay? Something wrong with Winnie?”
“No, Winnie’s fine.”
Winnie is Raina’s 12-year-old daughter. She had her when she married her now ex-husband at a very young age. That was before she realized she hates men and has stuck strictly to women ever since.
“It’s about my surgery. They bumped it up to Wednesday, so my clients for the rest of the week will need to be rescheduled.”
“Okay, that’s good news, isn’t it?”
She looks down at her wrist that has her other hand wrapped around it. “Yeah…I’m just nervous. And I hate canceling appointments.”
Raina’s been needing surgery on her wrist for several years now, but she’s been putting it off.
Taking time off when you’re a single mom isn’t an easy feat.
I’ve been as helpful as I can, trying to encourage her to get the surgery that was going to happen eventually, whether she wanted it or not.
This job takes a toll on our bodies, and she’s been doing this for fifteen years now.
“Listen, you message your clients, and if any of them are okay with switching artists, I’ll try to fit them in my schedule. Everyone else will just have to wait until after your recovery.”
Raina, Arlo, and I all have similar styles, so our repeat clients often use us interchangeably when scheduling conflicts arise. It’s always hard to change plans on clients, but she needs this if she wants to continue her career as a tattoo artist.
“But–“
“Stop.”
She looks up at me, which she hasn’t been able to do since she sat down.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. Start messaging them now and get me a list by the end of tomorrow. We’ll get this all sorted out. You have plenty of other things to worry about.”
She nods. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Do you have someone to pick up Winnie from school on Wednesday?”
“Not yet, I—”
“I’ll get her.”
“That’s not really on your way, Kass.”
“I said I’ll get her. I’m assuming your mom is still taking you to and from surgery?”
“Yeah, she just changed her flight.”
“Great, then it’s all settled.”
“Thank you.”
“Now get out of my office. I have shit to do.”
One side of her mouth tilts up in a smirk. “You know you can just say you’re welcome.”
I shoo her out, and as soon as the door clicks shut, I pull my phone out to start making some arrangements for after her surgery. I know she won’t accept them if I offer them in person, so I’m just sending her money for food delivery in a way that she can’t give it back.
While I have my phone out and am already distracted from the work I should be doing, I open my socials to check for any inquiries.
Most of my clients find me through social media or word of mouth, so I’m constantly getting DMs about openings or consults.
Sure enough, there are five messages waiting for me.
I open them one at a time, taking the time to reply, answer their questions, and ask any necessary follow-up questions of my own.
Just as I’m about to close the app, I get one more message. It’s from someone I haven’t worked with before. I stare at the name for a second, curious what the singular letter is short for.
B
Hey there! Raina messaged me that she needed to reschedule my appointment, but gave me the option to contact you instead. She gave you rave reviews, and I trust Raina. Do you have any room on your schedule for me?
Kass
How long was your original session with Raina planned for?
I’ll see if I can fit you in somewhere.
B
3 hours. She hadn’t sketched anything up yet, though.
Kass
I’ll probably do some mockups beforehand and send them to you so we can have a start, then we can make changes on the day of, if needed.
I have an opening this Friday at 10:00.
B
That’ll work! I’ll send you the info for the piece I’m looking to get done that I sent to Raina.
Kass
Great. I’ll also chat with Raina, so I have an idea of what I’m working with.
B
Oh, don’t do that! She’ll only have bad things to say about me.
Kass
Haha. I meant the art, not the canvas.
B
Well, the canvas is gorgeous, no need to worry about that. It’s the personality you should worry about. On second thought, maybe you should chat with Raina. She can prepare you for my sarcasm.
Well, this should be interesting.
I add her to my schedule and give her my email so she can send over ideas of what she’s looking for.
Out on the main floor, Arlo is already working on their client. I catch their eye for a second, and they give me a thumbs-up. Seems to be going well, at least so far.
"Raina."
"Yeah, boss?" She twirls around in her saddle chair and continues to let it spin her around multiple times until it finally slows to a stop.
"Please don't call me that."
"I just like seeing you cringe when I say it."
"One of your clients reached out to me."
"Already? Damn, that was fast. I just finished sending out the messages."
"It was someone named B. Like, just the letter."
"Oh, I love her!"
"Anything I should know?"
"Other than the fact that she's a slutty smoke show? And I mean that in the most respectful way possible, of course." She glances over at Arlo's client to check if he overheard her.
"I meant about the tattoo she wants."
"Oh, it’s super cool. I think I have some images saved for it.
" She starts tapping away on her tablet.
"I never did get around to sketching it.
She was a last-minute addition to this week's schedule after I had a cancellation.
Which, now here I am, canceling on everyone.
I should have just kept this week open. I'm so stupid. "
I don’t bother responding to her self-deprecation. "Find them?"
A few more taps. "Yep. Here they are."
I grab the tablet from her outstretched hand and start scanning through the messages. "Sounds cool." I hand it back to her. "She's probably sending me the same stuff, just wanted to see what your conversation with her was like and if you made any progress on the design yet."
"Nope, it's all yours."
I start to walk away.
"Thanks again," she yells after me.
I turn my head back and say in the most sarcastic voice I can muster, "You're welcome."