Chapter Five
Luke
The definition of apprentice didn’t include the phrase bitch work, but the reality did. I had to pay my dues, so I understood. Besides, it was inspiring to look over all the kick-ass artwork that had come out of this shop.
“Hey, I have what you asked for,” I said as I walked into Roxy’s office after I had a collection of favorites. It had taken me a few days since I wasn’t always at Think Ink.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” she grabbed the images from my hand and flipped through them. I turned to leave, but she stopped me. “Hang on, Meredith is going to need help to get this wall done, and since you’re the apprentice…”
“Yeah, I get it,” I swallowed. It had been a few days since I had run out of my own workstation to keep from kissing Meredith senseless.
With some distance, it was really easy to rationalize and refocus.
But being her right-hand man? That was different.
I knew what she did with that right hand.
I’d seen her use it to warm herself up the one night we had together. Things were about to get a lot harder.
“Meredith,” Roxy called.
Meredith poked her head into the office. “What’s up? I was just heading to the store to find frames.”
“Take him with you,” Roxy pointed her thumb at me. “He’s at your disposal for whatever you need.”
Meredith blushed and gave Roxy a stiff nod. “Sounds good. Your car or mine?”
“Mine,” I said. “It’s bad enough being a professional errand boy. At least let me drive.”
She laughed. “Fine by me.”
We went together to the parking lot, and I jogged ahead to open the passenger door.
She glared at me. “Don’t try to convince me you’re a gentleman now, way too late.”
I put my hand on my chest in mock offense. “I’m wounded. I made you come first, didn’t I?” Shit, I was falling right back into the flirty banter that I was supposed to be shutting down.
She didn’t even blush; she just laughed. “Pretty low bar to be aiming for, Luke. Besides, you wouldn’t want to break a nail before your next photoshoot.” She moved past me to jump in the truck, then pulled it closed before I could do it for her.
Dammit, I had a grin on my face as I went around to my side of the truck. Again, the things I loved about this girl were slapping me in the face. She took my antics, examined them from all angles, then lobbed them back at me with an added sprinkle of sarcasm.
I put a hand on the back of her seat to turn and back out of the parking spot, then headed towards the store.
The radio was on low, and we were both quiet as I navigated lunchtime traffic.
I could hear each breath she took, see her hair dance as the truck’s heat blew in her direction.
And her smell. Was I a creep who sniffed people now, or did she smell better than anyone I had ever met?
Unbidden images from our night together flooded my brain. The taste of her skin, the sounds she made as I thrust into her, the way she felt as her tight channel hugged my dick just right.
I shoved those thoughts aside. I really didn’t need a boner while driving.
Had my truck’s cab always been this small, or was her presence just that overwhelming?
I jumped from the truck as quickly as I could once I’d parked, and we headed into the store, beelining for a selection of frames on the back wall.
I was supposed to be helping, but as Meredith held up frame after frame, all I could do was stare at her ass.
“What about this one?” Meredith asked.
“Ooh, plain black, how daring.”
She kicked the shopping cart I was leaning on, and I scrambled to catch myself. “It will make the colorful artwork pop, dumbass.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. One calendar shoot doesn’t make you an expert on all things aesthetic,” she said.
“No, but I am an artist, remember? Not just a pretty face.”
“Fine, you pick something.” She stepped back and gestured to the wall of frames like she was on Wheel of Fortune.
I spent ten minutes examining each one before holding up the frame she had selected in the first place.
She smirked. “Go ahead, tell me I was right. I want to hear it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, okay, you’re right. Black makes other colors pop. Congrats on passing kindergarten.”
“Yes, being right feels so good.” She grinned and filled the cart.
“Are we done?” I was dreading climbing back into the truck with her by my side and wanted to get it over with.
“Oh, hang on. I want to have a look at the party supplies while we’re here.”
“Getting two birds stoned at once. Smart. Are you throwing a party?” The thought of her having a bunch of friends over—including guys—made my jaw tighten.
“No, we are. Roxy okay’d a flash tattoo day to try to get a ton of reviews all at once.”
It took me a moment to absorb the news, but when I did, I stopped dead in the middle of the aisle.
“Generic, repetitive assembly line tattoos? That is how we’re going to solve this?
” I fought to keep my voice calm. I understood that Think Ink was a business, but tattoos aren’t just a commodity to sell. It was art. My escape.
She pulled me out of the way of a harried-looking woman with three kids in tow. “We need a lot of reviews fast, which means more tattoos fast. If you know a better way to do that without increasing staff, I’d love to hear it.”
I didn’t have a better way. What I had was a hatred of cookie-cutter tattoos and a stubborn attitude. “So, I train to be creative and skilled just to tattoo dozens of anchors or infinity symbols in the name of what?”
“In the name of saving the shop,” her voice was rising now, “I was brought in because you guys couldn’t figure this out. This is what I’ve come up with.”
I set my jaw, wracking my brain for a way to make this feel less like selling out while still solving the shop’s problem. “How are we any better than Tat Shack if all we focus on is quantity?”
She studied me for a moment, seeing way more than I wanted the world to see. “It’s different because you guys will do amazing work no matter how many customers you see. You won’t just slap a tattoo on and shove them out the door.”
I took a deep breath. She had a point there. Even if we had a line up out the door, we wouldn’t cut corners. “I hate this shit. I really do.”
Her face softened. “What if instead of boring, repetitive designs, why don’t you come up with some fresh, creative ones for the flash day? I’m sure Roxy would be fine with it.”
I did like that.
“Besides,” she knocked my shoulder with hers. “I was thinking some profits could go to the after-school club you raised money for by posing in that calendar. Shouldn’t need you to strike a pose every time they need funds.”
Well, then I felt like an ass. I ran a hand through my hair. “Fuck. Sorry. That sounds like a good idea. I just… this place means a lot to me, okay? Not everything that makes money or gets reviews is going to be the right fit. It’s a special place.”
She nodded and patted my arm. “I know it is, and that’s why you are here to help me pull this off.”