Chapter 4
Lydia
Thirteen Months Ago
“Baby, I need to know now. I’m booking the tickets. If showing up for me at my family’s Christmas is too much for you, just tell me.”
“Blake, I didn’t say that,” I sighed. “You just sprung this on me. I thought I was going to Calla Bay for Christmas, that’s all I said.”
He huffed out an unamused laugh. “Did you seriously forget that we already talked about this? Wow. Do you not listen to me at all when I speak? Besides, you were just there for Thanksgiving. I had to go without you for days”—it was two days, one overnight—“and now you want to spend Christmas apart too.”
I didn’t want to fight with him about this.
Things had been going so good with us. Blake was amazing.
Attentive, loving, affectionate. All the things that I didn’t think I would like but apparently secretly loved.
He made me feel so special every day with his words and gifts.
He was always thinking of me and picking up things that he thought I would like.
We texted constantly, and even though it had only been a little over a month since we’d been together, we were basically living together already.
But a meet-the-parents, couples Christmas seemed really sudden, especially since it was all of three days away, and I definitely didn’t remember us talking about this arrangement.
“It’s just I already told my family that I would be there.
Christmas is kind of a big deal at my dad’s,” I said.
I didn’t even like going home. Too many memories, too much of a chance of running into someone I knew.
Especially during my family’s epic Christmas Eve party.
But I could also see the disappointment on my dad’s face if I told him I wasn’t going to be there, and I hated to let him down.
“Great. I’ll tell my family that it’s more important for my girlfriend to go to some party than spend the holidays with them. With me. Guess I’ll just cancel the flights, then.”
He was almost in tears as he pushed himself back into the couch with force, tossing his phone onto the cushion next to him.
“If it’s important to you, then I’ll go to Ohio with you, meet the fam.” I smiled, pulling some of the tension out of the air. “It was just unexpected, is all. Christmas Eve is the day after tomorrow. Wait… do you already have the flights booked, or are you trying to book them now?”
“Why would I wait to buy them now? I bought them two weeks ago,” he cooed, a sensual smirk tugging at his lips.
His mood lifted, and he slung an arm around my waist and dragged me to straddle his lap.
“They are going to love you, I promise. Almost as much as I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” I whispered against his lips, replaying our conversation in my mind. He did say he was just buying the flights now, didn’t he?
My thoughts scrambled when Blake grabbed my hips, rolling them over his bulging pants.
That wouldn’t have made any sense. It was way too last-minute. Of course he had already bought the tickets. I couldn’t believe I didn’t remember our conversation. I needed to learn to be a better girlfriend if I wanted to hold on to him.
* * *
Present Day
My arms were crossed, my face hard as stone, looking up at him through furrowed brows, as I engaged in the most intense stare down of my life.
Luke was equally as stone-faced, his wide shoulders set back, his arms mimicking mine, crossed over his chest.
“He’s expecting you to show up at 3:00 p.m.”
“That’s not my problem. I never agreed to work for Seb,” I told him for the millionth time. But that was Luke. Mr. Fix-It. He had always been the one to jump to telling me what I should do, offering advice when I never asked, getting me a job with the one person I despised more than anyone.
“Lyds,” he sighed, his head falling back in frustration. “What is your problem with him? You guys got along fine back in the day when you used to follow us around like a puppy dog. What is your deal? Did you two get into a fight that I don’t know about or something?”
We got into something, although I wasn’t sure how he didn’t know about it after it spread through town like wildfire.
I had absolutely zero interest in getting into it with him now though. I racked my brain, trying to come up with a good excuse as to why I couldn’t work for Sebastian Devereux, but I couldn’t think of a single damn thing that would get me out of this without telling Luke the real reason.
“He needs the help. You need a job. He’s an artist. You love art.
He’s all charm and swagger in person but might as well live in the stone age when it comes to social media.
You have experience building a following to showcase talented work.
It’s a match made in fucking heaven,” he groaned.
The look in his eyes softened, making me feel all stupid and bad.
“You said you needed the money, plus it’ll give you a reason to stick around a little longer. We miss you, Lyds.”
Ugh. “Fatherhood is going to make you a sap, you know that, right?” I shot back with a reluctant half smile. “Fine. I’ll go talk to Seb and see what he needs. Happy?”
“Yup.” He grinned.
I shook my head and left him standing in Dad’s kitchen. If I was going to show up at Seb’s tattoo shop, I was going to need to armor up.
Three o’clock on the dot, I pulled up in front of SD Ink and put my car in park.
My hair was clean and styled. I had paired a black graphic tee with black leather pants and a black leather jacket.
The look screamed effortless but still looked damn good.
I couldn’t let Seb think that I was trying to impress him, because I wasn’t.
It was more of a revenge hot girl look than anything.
I listened to another song on my playlist, building up the courage that I needed before I stepped inside.
It wasn’t just that it was Seb—ugh—but a job, here in Calla Bay…
it made this feel more permanent. The first step to clawing some semblance of a life back, but was I ready for that?
It felt like every decision was weighted with anchors, sitting heavy in my chest. Was this the right one?
Or would this prove to be yet another example of why I shouldn’t be allowed to make my own choices?
I slipped my armor in place, steeling my breath and straightening my spine.
Whatever happened, I wasn’t going to show any cracks to him.
When I walked into the shop for the first time, my eye was immediately drawn to the wall of sketches and photographs.
The original design that was drawn up and the final result of the tattoo side by side showcased some true talent.
The tattoos popped off the skin, the colors, shading, and lines impeccably done to create the illusion of depth and movement.
I lightly swiped my thumb over the image of an eagle, expecting to feel the texture of the wings beneath my touch instead of the flat photograph.
“You’re late.”
I rolled my eyes before turning around to face Seb. Pointedly looking around the empty tattoo shop, I asked, “For what?”
“Luke said you’d be here for 3:00 p.m. I cleared my calendar for this.”
“It’s 3:04 p.m.” My eyes shot daggers at him.
Between the slow smirk and the twinkle in his eye, I already knew I was going to regret coming here.
“It’s fine, little wild. I’m just fucking with you.” He winked. Like that’s what I needed, him winking at me like we were in some sort of inside joke together.
“I don’t need you fucking with me. Just tell me what you need me to do for you so we can make a plan and I can get out of this dingy place.”
That was a lie. It was actually really freaking clean inside. He had large south-facing windows onto Main Street that let in a good amount of natural light. The floor plan was open and spacious. Nothing was out of place, and the smell of disinfectant lingered lightly in the air.
“Fuck off. My shop isn’t dingy.” His brown eyes narrowed in aggravation. “And lose the fucking attitude, Lydia. Remember, I’m doing you a favor here, not the other way around.”
“Well, if neither of us actually wants me here, I’ll take my leave,” I told him with a fake sweet smile before turning back to the exit. I knew this was going to be a bad idea.
“You need a job, Lydia,” he called to my back in a musical tone.
“You need customers, Sebastian,” I mocked back at him.
He threw his hands up in front of him in surrender. “Truce?”
I didn’t want a truce with Sebastian Devereux, but I also needed money. This didn’t need to be permanent. I could set aside my pride for a few weeks, save enough to get the hell out of Dodge—and not back to the apartment in the city. Never back there.
“Fine.” I rolled my dark-lined eyes as I huffed out a heavy breath.
“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the couches by the front window before turning around and walking toward his office.
“I’m not a dog, Seb,” I snapped.
His shoulders tensed beneath his T-shirt as he let out a frustrated groan.
“Jesus Christ, Lydia. Is everything a fight with you?” He turned to me, adding sweetly, “Would you like to take a seat while I get us some waters?”
“That sounds great, thanks.” I smiled sarcastically.
He rubbed his hands down his face, and I couldn’t help but think maybe this would be more fun than I expected.
* * *
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Seb said.
It was my second day on the job, if you could count yesterday’s planning session as a workday. I came in today to start photographing his wall of previous work. It was a good starting point to get something up on his pages, and honestly, it was cool as hell.
There was just one problem.
“I need access to your socials, or I can’t help you. As your social media manager, it’s literally my job to post on your accounts.”
He didn’t say anything to that. He just sat on his rolling stool, black disposable gloves hiding the tattoos that covered his hands.
“She’s got a point,” Bryce said from his position in Seb’s chair.
“Careful, boy. I’m the one with the needle,” Seb threatened.
Bryce Dilberg aimed his nineteen-year-old smile at me. “I’ll risk it.”
“Thank you, Bryce,” I said with a wink. “Seb, do you not trust me with your accounts? Is that what the problem is?”
“Of course I don’t. Do you think I’m fucking insane?” He never picked his head up from where he glided the tattoo machine across Bryce’s inner forearm.
Now it was my turn to not answer. I walked around Seb and Bryce, taking pictures of the process, of Seb’s concentrated brow, of Bryce’s relaxed pose.
“What are you doing?” Seb asked.
“Documenting.”
“Do you have to move around so much while you’re ‘documenting’?”
“Yes,” I answered, sticking my tongue out at the back of his head, much to Bryce’s amusement.
“What is she doing?” Seb asked nervously.
“Nothing,” Bryce and I answered in unison.
“Suspicious fuckers,” Seb grumbled. “If she hits me over the head with a frying pan, it’s going to be your arm that’s all jacked up,” he said to Bryce.
I left them alone for Seb to finish his session, only coming back around to take a few shots of Bryce’s finished tattoo while he paid Seb in cash.
Just as Bryce walked out, he held the door open, and an older woman came in. She was probably in her sixties, with no visible tattoos that I could see. She didn’t seem like the type to start decorating her skin now, but hey, who was I to judge?
“Are you here for an appointment?” I asked.
“Yes. With Sebastian.” She fiddled with her purse, her soft voice making it even harder to believe she was here for some fresh ink.
“Darlene,” he called to her cheerfully as he cleaned and sanitized his equipment. “I’ll be right there, honey.”
She beamed a bright smile back at him.
He took her into a different room instead of his usual chair, and I started to follow them to capture the procedure from beginning to end, maybe do some videos this time.
“No. This is a private session,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, is she supposed to be here too?” Darlene asked, concern lacing her eyes.
“I’m his photographer,” I answered, hoping that cleared things up.
“If that’s how this thing is supposed to work, you don’t need to make any concession for me,” she said.
“No concessions made, honey. She doesn’t need to be here.” He directed his last part at me before pulling his phone from his back pocket.
Get lost. Yup. Heard you loud and clear.
My phone buzzed with a text notification just as Seb was putting his phone away.
“Just sent you my Facebook and Instagram logins,” he said.
I gritted my teeth at his dismissal but kept my mouth shut out of respect for the sweet-looking Darlene.
“Right. Well, I’ll get to posting, then.” I infused as much ominous tone into my words as possible before walking away. I wouldn’t actually post anything malicious on his business socials, but I liked the idea of him sweating at least for a little while. Prick.
An hour later, Seb walked her to the front door, explaining the aftercare instructions.
“Some scabbing is normal. Don’t pick at it. Just continue to use the moisturizer, okay?”
“Thank you so much, Sebastian. It’s absolutely beautiful. I can’t even believe it,” Darlene gushed with tears in her eyes.
“It isn’t nearly as beautiful as you, but I did my best,” he joked as he saw her out.
Seb opened his cashbox, counting out the bills before adding them to the drawer.
“That’s what Bryce gave you,” I said, noting the amount he was adding in.
“Yup.”
“Where’s Darlene’s?”
“She didn’t pay.”
Surprise and confusion made my eyes go comically round. “She didn’t pay you? And you just let her leave?”
“Yup,” he said again.
I threw my hands wide. “Jesus, Seb. Do you have no business sense? You already have barely any customers, and you let half of them go without paying? That’s ridiculous.”
He kept his head down, making a note in his ledger. “My business, my rules.”
“You are never going to see that money, you know that, right?” I knew how people worked.
Sure, Calla Bay was a small town, and maybe there were still some decent people here.
But for the most part, people only cared about themselves.
No one was going to look out for Seb if he didn’t do it himself.
Just like no one was looking out for me.
He shot me a look out of the side of his eye. “You worried about me, little wild?”
“Not worried about you. Just think you’re an idiot, that’s all,” I said.
“Yeah, I got that.”
Apparently, Sebastian Devereux wasn’t just my enemy. He was his own worst enemy too.