Chapter 11
MILLIE
Landing my first job at twenty-six is embarrassing.
I could have done anything in the world, and I chose to be tugged around by my sleek ponytail instead, living naively in my privilege.
Being born into the world of business meant that I picked up on things here and there, but I never really thought I’d ever need to put that information to good use.
I wasn’t invited into my father’s board meetings, but I was always the one trying and sometimes failing to shmooze the men my father wanted to invest in the lodges or join him in another venture that would lead to another few million in the family trust.
My lack of real experience in the hands-on aspect of business has been made obvious today.
Popping a bottle of champagne for Bryce when she began running through the online calendar wouldn’t have helped me remember the right buttons to push, and offering a special tour of the studio to the woman who came in for her appointment with Shade wouldn’t have done anything but make me look as out of water as I feel.
I’ve always been a fast learner, but today has reminded me that there is only so much I can improve on in a few hours’ time.
But hey, at least I knew how to use a stapler correctly.
Taking that hit on the chin, I finish with the newly organized stack of receipts and slip them into their proper folder. Bryce left an hour ago, leaving me on my own for the rest of the day while Shade works on the thigh tattoo he’s been doing for what feels like forever now.
I should have done far more today, and I would have . . . if it weren’t for him.
From the moment the woman got here and Shade got to work prepping her thigh, I’ve been utterly distracted.
For a huge guy, he moves with a precision that seems unnatural.
He got her skin shaved and a blue sketch of the design she wanted placed down with a confident ease that held my attention for way too long.
I couldn’t hear the ring of the studio phone until he looked up from where he was working and saw me watching him.
I ignored him for an hour.
The continuous buzz of the tattoo gun has filled the studio for so long that I’m positive I’ll hear it in my dreams. I don’t know how he can hold it in his hand for this entire time. It must be uncomfortable.
“Want to take a break? You’re almost done,” he says to the woman, lifting the needle off her skin and wiping it clean.
She pulls her long pink hair over her shoulder and pants slightly. There’s a quiver in her arm from holding herself up on the table for so long.
“No. Let’s just finish it.”
Shade grins proudly at her, and I swallow, ignoring the nip of envy in my side. It’s so ridiculous to be jealous of that and this woman at all. I blame how out of the ordinary today has been for that. It has to be acceptable to be all out of whack after the week I’ve had.
Sitting behind the desk, I cross my legs and start flipping through the brown leather book that I’ve gotten quite familiar with today.
Month by month, I move through the pages and take another mental note of when exactly he’s open for more small bookings.
March seems like years rather than months away from now, and yet, the open spots on his calendar are far and few between.
I flip through more pages and stare at the empty dates at the full-year mark and try to wrap my head around someone being so in demand that their life is planned that far in advance.
Clearly, he’s talented. I mean, that much is obvious from everything I’ve seen today. Even without a clear view of what he’s been working on, the woman’s reaction gives away that she’s happy with it. The photos on the walls behind me are another testament to that.
My cheeks heat as I think back to the one I know hovers above me. The design is breathtaking, but it was the woman who took me the most by surprise. Her confidence was obvious through the pose of her body, but I still had a hard time understanding.
With her knees digging into the cushion of the couch, she pressed her middle against the back of it and faced the wall, the fire-breathing dragon on her back fully displayed.
The red and orange flames were the only colours in the photo, along with the red thong slung over her round hips and tucked between her cheeks.
There were more tattoos on her body, but it was clear the dragon was the focal piece, and as shocking as it was for me to see, it deserved that level of attention.
Shade must get to do many pieces like that with women of similar confidence and beauty.
It’s no wonder he’s as cocky as he is. I won’t admit it to him anytime soon, but from what I’ve seen, he deserves it.
And it makes me even more sure of the decision I made to end our conversation early last night.
I’m nothing like the woman in that photo, and I won’t ever be. Shade would eat me alive, and from what I’ve seen from him today, he’s made the same conclusion. Why else would he not have brought up last night?
Other than his question about why I didn’t let him know when I was coming today, he hasn’t mentioned it, and he certainly hasn’t hinted at wanting me to answer his question again.
“Okay, you’re finished,” Shade announces.
I keep my eyes on the pages of his appointment book, not looking up when I hear movement from his direction.
The woman groans loudly. “Thank fuck. I’m numb.”
“I could do a few more touch-ups to keep you here a bit longer,” he teases.
“There are worse things than your hands on my thigh, Shade.”
I bite my tongue and lift my gaze to the computer screen. Shaking the mouse, I wake it up and log in.
“You flatter me.” There’s a clap from what sounds like a hand on skin. Her leg, maybe. “Up you go. Check it out in the mirror and decide if you actually need any touch-ups.”
“I’m not sure I can afford any more of your time.”
“On the house, Beck.”
I press down on the mouse a bit too hard and accidentally open the wrong application.
Closing out of it, I choose the calendar and scroll back to where I last left off with the appointment transfers.
Having them all in a book might seem easier to Shade, but it’s a surefire way to lose something important.
Once I’m finished, he’ll have everything available to see online, as well as inside his book.
“Unfortunately, it’s perfect. No touch-ups needed, although I’m not surprised,” the woman calls.
“That’s what I like to hear. When you’re done looking, you can sit back down, and I’ll get you ready to go.”
“Oh, now you’re desperate to get rid of me.”
Shade’s chuckle is low and deep. “I’ve just got some dinner plans tonight. You’re my last appointment of the day.”
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
Yeah, who?
Blinking, I fling that question out of my mind and focus on what I’m doing. I zone in to my work, disregarding their conversation. The vibration on the desk is what brings me out of it. I don’t recognize the number on the screen, but it’s not like anyone besides Shade and the campground knows mine.
I step outside and answer the call, pretty confident that I’ll be back before the woman is ready to pay.
“Hello?”
“Millie?”
“This is she,” I say cautiously.
“It’s Shelly from Shimmer Lake Campground. I just wanted to call and check in as we’ve been trying to charge the card you left on file, but it hasn’t gone through. Do you have another one we could try?”
My stomach tightens. “You’re charging it already? I haven’t checked out yet.”
“Well, you originally only checked in for three nights, and when you didn’t come into the office today to extend your stay, I was going to add a fourth night for you and go from there,” she explains.
The kindness in her tone should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. I’m not sure much would at this point.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about coming in. You’re in your right to do that. Thank you for not just kicking me out. I’ll be back soon and—” And what? Beg her to let me stay for free? Oh, Millie, you’re in it now. “And I’ll try my other cards. We’ll get it sorted.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I had your cabin cleaned and restocked this morning, just in case. We’ll see you soon.”
“Thank you, Shelly,” I whisper.
She ends the call, and I stand outside for a moment, willing myself not to cry about this. I’ve cried too much since coming here, and I don’t want this to be yet another thing to bring me to the brink.
Turning, I head back to the studio. The sight of Shade taking payment from the woman at the desk isn’t what I was expecting to see so soon. He’s already looking at me when I let go of the door and start toward the desk.
“Important call?” he asks.
I swallow, trying my hardest to hide my worry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were so close to being done already. It won’t happen again.”
Shade narrows his eyes at my answer and hands the woman her receipt. She takes it from him and says something that I don’t hear because of her soft tone. My emotions are too unnerved to try and dissect what it was.
“I don’t think so, Beck. My dinner plans weren’t a ruse,” he tells her, his eyes unmoving from where they hold mine.
“What a shame. I guess I’ll see you when I see you, then.”
“Yeah, you will. Make sure to take care of that piece. It’s going to itch real fucking bad in a bit here.”
“I will.”
She pats his arm, her fingers lingering on his bicep before dropping. I take a step out of the way when she passes me with a genuine smile. The door closes a moment later, leaving me and Shade alone.
“Who called you?” he asks.
“It was nothing. I’m sorry again for leaving without letting you know where I was going.”
“Don’t try playing it off, princess. You’re clearly upset.”
Ignoring him, I round the opposite side of the desk and sit in the chair. My knees are pressed flush together, the space between us not as generous as I thought it would be.
“What happens at the end of a workday? Do I need to learn how to clean up after a tattoo or anything?”
“No, you don’t need to do that yet. You’ve done enough for today, don’t you think?”
“Not really. I spent most of the day listening to Bryce’s instructions and fiddling around with the calendar.”
“I like my station set up and taken down a very specific way. I’m not ready to teach anyone else how to do that for me yet,” he says.
“That’s okay.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s upset you now?”
“Why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you be hurrying with your cleanup so you can go to dinner?”
My eyes go wide at the attitude in my tone. Shade’s eyes twinkle as he shifts closer to me, his body casting a shadow over my legs.
“Are you hungry, Millie? Is that why you’re so bothered?”
“You think I’m hangry?” I ask, fighting off a laugh.
“Would you prefer I think you’re jealous that I have plans tonight instead?”
“No. I have dinner plans too.”
His brow lifts. “Oh? With who?”
“Myself.”
“In that case, I’m the jealous one.”
With a huff, I turn the chair so I face the desk. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”
I squeak when he grabs the back of the chair and pulls me right back to face him. Slowly, he lowers his hands to the armrests and bends over me, dropping his voice to a rasped murmur.
“You don’t know me well enough. Let’s change that.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Is that a serious question?”
I blink, the sight of him so close to me a bit overwhelming.
I’ve never been in this position with a man like Shade before.
Someone this larger than life but who seems genuinely interested in hearing me speak and learning the things that I have a hard time sharing with other people.
He has this way of getting to me so easily that it makes him dangerous.
“I would hate to keep you from your plans,” I say.
“Even if they include you?”
“What do you mean?”
“My dinner plans are with you. Unless you’re going to turn me down.”
I ignore the heat rising up my throat. “Usually, you’re supposed to ask a woman if she wants to have dinner with you instead of assuming she does.”
“I was hopeful. Especially after last night.”
My breath catches. “I don’t—”
He drags the rough pad of his thumb over my elbow. I lose my train of thought, lowering my gaze to where he’s touching me so brazenly.
“You don’t what, Millie? Don’t know why you stopped answering me and kept me wondering why all damn night?”
I nod jerkily, unable to speak.
“I checked my phone every hour, waiting to see if you’d answered my question. You didn’t, though, did you? I want to know why.”
“I fell asleep,” I lie.
Humoured disbelief fills his expression. “You’re something else.”
“We shouldn’t have spoken to each other like that.”
“Why not?”
“We’re not compatible, and I’m not here for all . . . of that.”
Releasing the armrest, he backs up, taking his touch with him. Instead of continuing to stroke my flushed skin, he slips his hands into his pockets and eyes me casually.
“Alright.”
I open and close my mouth a few times. “Alright?”
“We’re still having dinner together. But alright. I’ll let the rest go for now,” he relents, appearing completely unbothered.
Annoyance ripples through me as I stiffen in the chair. “And if I don’t want to have dinner with you?”
“Don’t try it, Millie. I’m already letting you fib a bit too much already.”
And with that, he leaves me at the desk, staring after him with a shiver running up my spine.