Chapter 9
NINE
RIDGE
T he first few days with Darcy caring for Lou have been a dream. We’ve fallen into something of a routine rather quickly. Lou thought it would be nice to have breakfast ready for Darcy every day, and since Lou and I need to eat anyway, I’ve added enough for Darcy each morning. I also make sure there’s coffee for her.
Although, she did mention on the second morning that she prefers iced coffee, so I’ve taken to brewing some and setting it in the fridge for her. When she comes in, she pulls it out and makes herself a cup, then she washes the pot and puts it back on the machine. I know it’s wild of me to have a normal-ass drip coffee maker in this day and age, when there are much fancier machines, but I’m just not that guy. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to mind. But if she mentioned wanting one of those fancy ones, I’d probably go out and get it for her just because she’s so good with Lou. I’d consider it a much-earned bonus.
After breakfast, I leave and have a pleasant non-stressful day at work. Well, at least where Lou is concerned. After the first day, I really felt like Darcy was a perfect fit. And when she told me what she did about Lou and wanting to work with her, I no longer worried about receiving a phone call like I had with all the different daycares.
When I get home, the two of them have already started making dinner based on what I shopped for. Or sometimes they go out and get something totally different. Not that I mind either way. I help where I’m needed, or sometimes I just sit while they finish up. Then we all eat together and they tell me about their day and they always ask about mine. Well, usually Lou has already excused herself and then Darcy asks me. But I really appreciate it. She seems genuinely interested and always asks questions.
Yesterday, I explained to her that every Friday we have a staff meeting and that the co-owner, Avery, always attends. He’s much more hands off right now, with his wife being pregnant with their first baby.
This morning, I stopped to make the customary donut run for the meeting and added extra for Helena, Avery’s wife. He’s mentioned she has a major sweet tooth while pregnant. I figure getting your boss’s pregnant wife some donuts is a good move.
When I arrive at the shop, Killian is pouring himself a cup of coffee from the machine we have here. Banks and Waylon are laughing about something in the hallway toward the office, and Avery isn’t here yet.
I set the boxes of donuts down and walk back to see what Dumb and Dumber are up to.
“This one is the best,” I hear Waylon say with a laugh.
“Give it back, dude,” Banks says.
“What are you two going on about?” I ask, slinging my bag into the chair in the office.
“Check out Banks’ new headshots,” Waylon says, holding one far above his head.
Waylon is the tallest of us all, and none of us are short men. But Banks is also the shortest of us, making it impossible for him to reach the photo.
My eye catches the image as it sways in his hand. Banks is shirtless, leaning against a brick wall with a very serious look on his face. And if you know Banks, he’s anything but serious.
“Whatever, dude,” Banks says. “That photo’s rights were already sold, so you can laugh all you want, but I made a cool grand off it.”
Waylon stops waving the photo around, his hand dropping to his side suddenly. He looks Banks straight in the eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Yep,” Banks says.
“Hook me up,” Waylon says. “I can take my shirt off and make a pouty face too.”
Waylon runs his hand over his chest, pressing his lips out like the duck face all the teenage girls do. It’s not great.
“Sorry, man,” Banks says. “You actually have to be attractive to do what I do.”
I roll my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “You’re both insufferable, you know that? Go get a donut and sit down.”
The two sulk off, leaving me in the hallway alone. I take the chance to check my cell phone for messages before I get out there.
There are two from Darcy, who has taken to sending me live updates of what her and Lou are up to.
DARCY
We’re taking a trip to the pet store!
Attached is a photo of Lou in her booster seat in the back of the car, wearing sunglasses with a small paper cup from a coffee place next to my house.
DARCY
Don’t worry, it’s chocolate milk!
I breathe a sigh of relief. I can’t imagine what coffee would do to a five-year-old, especially one as wild as Lou. See, it’s moments like this when I’m convinced she’s the perfect fit. As a nanny, I mean. She assuages my worries before I even have to say anything.
I place my phone in my back pocket and step into the front room before pulling up a chair to the circle that’s formed. Sometime between stepping into the hallway and reading my texts, Avery came in and sat down. These meetings are far from formal. If anything, they usually spiral into talking about our personal lives, like some sort of men’s group therapy session.
“I’ll get the business end of this out of the way,” Avery says. “We’re on the docket for three conventions in the next month. Is everyone ready for that?”
We all nod, having known the dates for a while now. On convention weekends, the shop has no appointments and isn’t open. We’ve already briefed all our clients who are in the middle of large pieces and have moved their appointments around to make sure everyone is taken care of.
“I’ve secured hotel reservations for all of us,” I say. “Four singles.” Since Avery needs to be with Helena, he’s not coming.
“We’re not sharing hotel rooms?” Waylon asks.
“Fuck no, dude,” Killian says. “This isn’t summer camp.”
“Yeah, there’s convention babes,” Banks says. “I need privacy.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I say. “And to sum up, no, we aren’t sharing rooms. We’re grown men. I don’t want to stare at any of you while I go to sleep.”
“Do you have arrangements for Lou?” Avery asks.
“Yeah, her grandparents are covering the weekends,” I say.
“And how’s the new nanny?” Banks asks, raising an eyebrow.
“She’s good. It’s working out.” The guys all give one another a look, like they have a secret I’m not privy to. “What?”
“We’ve just noticed you seem to be in a pretty good mood lately,” Waylon says. “It just had us wondering if it had something to do with her?”
I roll my eyes, cursing myself for not anticipating this. All these guys are younger than me and can’t fathom having a relationship with a woman that doesn’t end in sex.
“Nothing is going on between me and Darcy,” I say. “She’s good with Lou. That’s it.”
“Is she hot?” Banks asks.
“I’m not answering that.”
“So she is hot!” he says.
“She’s ten years younger than me, for Christ’s sake.”
“Oh, so maybe I should take a crack at her,” he says.
“Banks, if you try to fuck my daughter’s nanny, I will kill you.”
I don’t really relish the thought of anyone trying to fuck Darcy, actually. But he doesn’t need to know that. I don’t think she has a boyfriend. At least, she hasn’t mentioned one. I feel like that would’ve come up in conversation by now, but who knows. It’s none of my business anyway.
Great, now I’m sitting here thinking about what kind of men she dates. Are they her age? Are they decent guys? Is she on dating apps? Maybe she likes them older. And tattooed. Not that it would matter. Much.
“Avery, how’s Helena doing?” Waylon asks.
Grateful for the subject change, I turn my attention to Avery. He looks a bit more tired than normal. I know he said it’s been difficult. The dark circles under his eyes certainly tell a tale.
“She’s okay, but she’s on bed rest and it’s driving her batshit crazy. She can’t move, can’t get up without help, and has to be escorted everywhere. Which is my job, unless there’s stuff I absolutely have to do. Her sister, Blythe, has been helping a lot.” He wipes a hand down his face, looking positively ready for the pregnancy to be over.
“Let us know if you need anything, man,” Killian says.
“Thanks,” Avery says. “I appreciate it. She’s just restless but also insanely uncomfortable. Oh, we’re having a boy, by the way.”
“Congratulations,” we all say nearly in unison.
“Yeah, we’ve been disagreeing over his name a lot lately,” he says. “She wants to include her dad somehow and I’m less enthused about that idea.”
“I’m sure you’ll work it out,” I say, sending him a meaningful smile I hope he can read.
Vanessa died in the hospital before we officially chose a name for Lou. We’d been talking about a few different options but still hadn’t nailed it down. She liked Mae; I liked Vanessa’s middle name, Louise. So in the end, I just put them together. It felt like the best option.
Avery wraps up and leaves pretty quickly after that. I’m sure he’s eager to get back to Helena. He’s mentioned more than once being eager to get back to tattooing. At his core, he’s just a guy who likes to stab people with needles in the name of art.
The other owner, Hawk, owns and works at the original location in Louisville, Kentucky, and he also has a manager. I think he much prefers doing the tattooing, like Avery, rather than being bogged down with operations stuff. More often, I’m doing less actual tattooing and more of other stuff.
I’ve won some awards for my tattoos. I’ve dominated conventions. Nothing is new or surprising anymore, so it’s okay that I do less tattooing. Honestly, I prefer it that way. And I can afford to be picky about the projects I take on.
I no longer do small, random tattoos that people walk in and get. I haven’t done a flash tattoo in ages either. A tattoo from me is an experience. The people who hire me are shelling out thousands, not hundreds. I’ve gone ten hours a day for three days straight to overhaul a full back piece. I’ve done full sleeves, whole legs, and the like.
At the conventions coming up, I’ve already scheduled clients with major pieces for display and submissions. I’m pretty excited about them. The only part I don’t really enjoy is the part the other guys love. And that’s all the women absolutely rabid for you. I don’t know why that happens, but I know if I ever needed a good fuck fest, the conventions are like shooting fish in a barrel.
And that’s not to say I don’t have the utmost respect for women. Or their choice to be sexually free. Like, you go, girl, you know? But it’s not my thing anymore. I cannot say the same thing for twenty-three-year-old me. I certainly had my fun.
Fun . God, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve funned anyone? Truth be told, there are days I’m willing to just give in and let someone use me for all their fun. I should really stop using the word fun in place of fuck. It’s gonna confuse me later.