16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Corbin
“Admit it,” Jessie says. “I was right.”
I eye her, confused. “About what?”
“Avery.”
She says the name as if I’m supposed to know what she’s talking about.
“What about her?”
“She’s doing a great job,” Jessie says. “She might even be fitting in.” She gives a theatrical gasp that almost makes me laugh.
I follow her gaze to look at Avery, keeping my expression neutral. It’s true that she’s doing better at the shop than I expected when she’d first walked into the building. But I’m not admitting that to Jessie. Besides, it’s been less than two weeks. It’s too soon to judge.
“It’s still early,” I say, making Jessie roll her eyes.
“You’re so stubborn,” she mutters, walking back to her station before I can come back with a retort.
The woman in question is hovering near Noah’s station, talking with a client who’s getting her first tattoo. The client had walked into the shop with wide eyes, clearly nervous. Avery picked up on it immediately and engaged her in small talk, distracting her from her nerves. She’d stayed nearby the entire time while Noah set up and got started on the tattoo. The distraction had worked, for a while. But when Noah finished outlining and moved on to shading the small tattoo, the woman had gone suddenly pale and held up a hand to stop him.
Avery hadn’t hesitated. She’d immediately gone to grab a cool, damp cloth to place on the client’s neck and a bottle of water to sip while Noah gave her a few minutes. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen a client get a little light-headed during a session. I’ve seen people’s adrenaline get the better of them more times than I can count by now. Most of the time I can look at a client before we even get started and know how they're going to handle the session. But I've spent years doing this. Avery’s still new to this. I remember telling her that it happens sometimes. I’d even told her about our normal protocol for when it does. But I think this is the first time she’s seen it in action. And no one had to remind her of what to do. I’d been ready to move, and I could see Noah was too. But we didn’t have to do or say anything. Avery handled it like a pro.
Interesting.
I tear my gaze away from my new apprentice before someone can accuse me of staring at her, even though that’s just what I’d been doing. It hasn't even been two weeks since she started working in the shop. Despite my initial reservations, the past eleven days have gone both better and worse than I’d expected. Better, because despite my dismissive words to Jessie, Avery has exceeded my expectations. She’s taken on every task set before her with no complaint and very little comment.
She’s also taken initiative around the shop, doing things not asked of her when she sees they need doing. She organized the paperwork at the front desk, so it makes sense now. I can actually find what I’m looking for easily. There’s also a new plant at the desk that adds a nice bit of color and life to the place. I don’t know the first thing about caring for a plant, but Avery assured me she’d handle it .
Jessie and Noah both seem to love her, not to mention the clients. She seems to be able to put the nervous ones at ease with a smile and a few words. Even the most stoic of my clients aren’t unaffected by her. Yesterday, a biker I’ve been tattooing for 4 years laughed at one of her jokes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the man laugh. I don’t get it. Even though she has a pampered, rich girl persona, Avery somehow fits in here at Elemental Ink. I hadn’t expected that when I’d agreed to let her apprentice.
It’s also been worse than I expected; spending every day with her nearby and not acting on my attraction to her. She hasn’t done anything to encourage my wayward thoughts. In fact, she seems almost indifferent to me. That fact doesn’t seem to matter to my perpetually hard cock though. It's taken me until just this moment to admit to myself that it’s not Avery who’s the problem. It’s me. I know what I told her the day I gave her the contract. I know the stipulation I put in it about no romantic relationships among staff. And she hasn’t once given me cause to think she wants to break that rule. But my own imagination didn’t seem to get the memo because I’ve spent the last week with Avery Scott starring in every sordid sexual fantasy I can dream up. It’s bad enough that I went home the other night and jacked off to thoughts of her riding my cock. It hadn’t been my finest moment, but I’m not delusional enough to think it won’t happen again. I don’t know what it is about her that has me so caught up, but I wish I could turn it off.
It’s enough to drive me crazy. Not that I’ve done or said anything to let her, or anyone else, know what I’m thinking. In fact, I’ve done everything I can to make sure she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can admit that I’ve been a bit of an asshole when it comes to her. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t know what else to do. I know there’d been mutual attraction when we first met. It clearly hasn’t gone away for me. Maybe me being an asshole will make whatever attraction Avery felt for me dissipate. It’s worth a shot. Because if I know she’s not interested, there’s no way I’ll cross any lines with her. Even I know it’s a flimsy excuse, but I don’t know what else to do.
The bell above the door rings, pulling me back to the present. Turning, I see my sister walking toward me, a big smile on her face and two white bakery boxes in her hands. My mood improves immediately. We'd had to reschedule her appointment last Sunday because she'd had some kind of work emergency. I'm still not totally sure what it is my sister does for a living, but I know she's got an important job at the company where she works. I also know I'd be proud of her no matter what job she had.
“Henley,” I say, smiling with genuine happiness.
“I come baring baked goods,” she says, lifting the boxes slightly to emphasize them.
“Is that from Jensen’s?”
Jessie’s words are so high-pitched I’m worried for the neighborhood dogs. I wince and plug one ear with a finger, giving her a look of admonishment .
“What frequency was that?” I mutter.
Ignoring me, Jessie makes her way toward my sister to relieve her of the bakery boxes.
“Don’t touch my brownies,” I warn, making her roll her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m here for the snickerdoodles.”
“Trash cookie,” I mutter.
“I’m with you,” I hear from my right.
My body comes to life immediately when I realize Avery is standing beside me. I hadn’t noticed her approaching. I hold myself rigid beside her, resisting the urge to turn and let my eyes roam over her body.
“Snickerdoodles are barely a step above sugar cookies,” she says, oblivious to my struggle. “Give me double chocolate any day.”
I almost smile at her assessment. I tend to hold the same opinion about snickerdoodles, but I don’t say that. Instead, I say, “Jensen’s brownies are the best in town.” I don’t look over at her as I speak. It’s easier if I don’t look at her when she’s standing this close to me. I surprise myself by adding, “You should try one.”
From the corner of my eye, I see her tilt her head up to look at me. I don’t turn to meet her gaze. I don’t want to see whatever expression she’s wearing right now. I can only imagine it’s one of surprise, if not outright shock. This might be the first time I’ve made any sort of outward gesture of friendliness. I don’t even know why I said it. I hadn’t planned to. It had just slipped out. But it’s too late to call back the words now.
“Thanks,” Avery says in a low voice. “I’d love one.”
I don’t say anything else. Instead, I leave her standing there as I walk over to greet my sister. Jessie is already stuffing a snickerdoodle into her mouth while bouncing slightly on her feet. If I didn’t know she was in her 30s, I’d think she was a kid. With her small stature and her ridiculous excitement over cookies, I don’t think anyone would fault me.
“Chew with your mouth closed, heathen,” I mumble as I make my way over to my sister.
Jessie flips me the bird but doesn’t speak around her mouthful of cookie.
Henley smiles at me as I approach. She’s wearing jeans and a tank top with her blonde hair piled high into a messy bun on top of her head. She looks so completely different from the polished, put-together woman I saw dancing her ass off in a club two weeks ago. She looks more like the baby sister I grew up with. This Henley is the one I prefer. The one who’s not trying to impress anyone or pretend to be something she isn’t. I pull her to me for a hug.
“Good to see you, Hen,” I say.
“You too.”
I hear a feminine laugh from behind me as I release Henley. The sound sends a jolt of awareness through me, and I glance back to see Avery watching Jessie demolish another cookie with an amused smile on her face. Is this the first time I’ve heard her laugh? Maybe. I feel like I would have remembered that sound if I’d heard it before.
“I upheld my end of the bargain,” Henley says, pulling my attention away from my new apprentice.
I turn to look at her. “I haven’t seen the brownies yet.”
She rolls her eyes. “Go eat a damned brownie so we can get started.”
“Why? You got some place to be today?”
“Nowhere but right here with my big brother,” she says sweetly.
“Then what’s the hurry?” I ask, intentionally riling her.
“Because I don’t want to be here until midnight,” she says. “I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
“Okay, Miss I’m-So-Important,” I tease.
“Shut up,” she says, laughing as she gives my arm a shove. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on,” I say. “Let me get everything set up and have a brownie. Then we can get started.”
She sighs. “Fine. A deal’s a deal.”
As we walk toward my station, I hear a sound that can only be described as a moan coming from my right. My gaze immediately follows the noise and I see Avery standing in front of the open bakery box. She’s got her hand over her mouth and her eyes are closed as she chews, a look of pure rapture on her face.
“Oh, my god,” she groans. “This is the best damned brownie I’ve ever had.”
Jessie laughs at her. “Jensen’s is the best. ”
I watch Avery for a few more seconds, amused by the blissful expression on her face. All that over a brownie? I guess she has a sweet tooth. Not that I care. Her dessert preferences are none of my business. I eventually manage to tear my gaze off her before anyone can catch me staring at her and make assumptions.
“Hmm,” Henley says from beside me.
Too late.
“Who’s the girl?” she asks, her tone overly cheerful.
“Avery,” I say, my voice neutral. “New apprentice.”
“Hmm,” she says again.
I don’t think I like the curiosity in my sister’s tone.
“Hmm? What?” I ask, glancing over at her as she sits in the chair at my station.
She shrugs. “Nothing. Just that she’s cute.”
“She’s too young for you, Henley,” I say, my words sounding more like a warning than the playful tone I’d been going for.
“Too young for you, maybe,” my sister says, still watching Avery. Her gaze roams over her from her head to her toes and back up. “I’m not so ancient as you, big brother.”
Something about the way she says it sends a flash of irritation through me.
“No hitting on my employees.”
She just laughs. “Come on. That’s not a rule.”
“It is now,” I say. “I’m instituting it.”
Henley turns back to look at me, but I keep my eyes on what I’m doing. I focus on setting up my station with the inks I know I’m going to be using for today’s work on her back. I know she’s trying to read me. It’s what she does. What she’s always done. If I’m not careful she’ll see exactly what I don’t want her to see. Who am I kidding? If she’s here long enough, she’s bound to see it anyway. Just because Jessie and Noah haven’t picked up on my attraction to Avery doesn’t mean my own sister won’t notice it. I don’t know why I’m making a big deal about the possibility of Henley flirting with Avery. It doesn’t matter to me. Or, at least it shouldn’t.
“Does that rule apply to you, too?” Henley asks, her voice teasing.
I look over at my sister and see that her mouth is curved up into a smile and her eyes are sparkling with the same mischief she used to have when she’d play a prank on me when we were kids.
“I don’t hit on my employees,” I say, not taking her bait.
“But you want to sleep with that one,” she accuses.
It takes less than a second for my face to betray me.
“Ha!” Henley shouts, pointing at me. “I knew it! That’s why you sounded weird about her on the phone.”
“Will you shut the fuck up?” I hiss, leaning close.
“Sorry,” she whispers, her face still lit up with delight. “So? Are you?”
“Am I what?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes like I’m dense. “Going to sleep with the cute, new apprentice?”
“Her name’s Avery,” I bite off. “And no. I’m not. ”
She glances back over to where Avery is finishing off her brownie and wiping her mouth on a napkin.
“That’s too bad,” she says. “Is it because you’re too old for her?”
“First of all,” I say. “I’m not that fucking old.”
She ignores me as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “If you’re not going to go for it, can I?”
“God damn it, Henley,” I say. “I really will tattoo an asshole on you.”
She laughs. “You will not.”
I glare at her. “Try me.”
She holds up both hands in surrender. “Okay, fine,” she says. “No hitting on your girlfriend—I mean, apprentice.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter under my breath. “I don’t know why I even talk to you.”
“Yes, you do,” she says. “You adore me.”
“Not right now, I don’t.”
“Careful,” she says, totally unbothered. “I know how you feel about liars.”
“Can we change the subject?” I ask.
“Fine,” she sighs. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“I still think you should go for it with the hot apprentice,” she says.
I grind my teeth against the urge to scream in frustration. “Henley…”
“Fine,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll let it go. For now. ”
I don’t believe it for a second. When Henley latches onto something, she’s like a dog with a bone. She won’t let it go until something more interesting comes along. I can already feel a headache forming at the base of my skull. I love my sister. I really do. I’d take a bullet for her. But the problem with someone knowing you as well as Henley and I know one another is that we both know exactly which buttons to press to irritate the shit out of each other. And we utilize that information as often as possible. Henley probably does it more than I do, but I attribute that to her being the younger sister. It’s probably something ingrained in her since birth.
“How’s work?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Same old.”
“Didn’t you just land some big promotion? That’s gotta be different, right?”
“It is,” she agrees. “And it isn’t.”
I pat the table before me, and she shifts to turn her back to me. Lifting her shirt up to reveal most of her back, she lies face-down on the table. I study the work I’ve already done as she talks. This will be the third time I’ve added ink to my sister’s back. She doesn’t have any other tattoos, but this one is going to be massive when it’s finished. It’s a piece that took years for her to dream up and months for me to design and draw according to her vision. It’s one of my most detailed works ever and I’m damned proud of it. It’s too bad Henley will probably always keep it covered. A piece like this deserves to be shown off .
“I thought it would be different when I made it to VP,” she says. “Youngest female VP in the history of the company. Bigger office, more respect. I don’t know. It’s the same shit but with different bosses.”
She sounds wistful. Almost sad. I feel a pang of sympathy. Henley and I have always had each other’s backs. Growing up the way we did, there weren’t a lot of options. No one else seemed to be on our team, so we were each other’s team. That hasn’t changed a whole lot in the years since we left that life behind. Not being able to fix this for her is like a knife in my gut.
“Not what you thought it would be?” I ask.
She shrugs as best she can while lying down. “I don’t know. It’s still new. I shouldn’t complain. It’s what I wanted. I’m still just figuring it all out. That’s all.”
If I know my sister, she won’t tell me anything if she doesn’t want to. She’ll tell me about it when she’s ready. And I’ll be here for her when she does. Or, maybe it’s as she said, and she just needs time to adjust to her new position. Either way, I’ll be here to listen. Or to fix it if I can. Not that she’s not capable of fixing her own problems. But the point is that I’m here for her, no matter what.
“I think I’ll start down here on the right,” I say, touching the spot on her lower back. “I’m going to finish the tail and the outlines of the flames. I can probably get most of the line work finished today. We’ll see how time goes and how you feel. If it gets to be too much, just let me know. ”
I add the last part knowing she won’t take me up on it. It’s the same thing I say to all my clients. Some ask for breaks, and some don’t. But I know Henley. She goes to a different headspace when she’s getting tattooed. It’s almost like she leaves her body. Some people will flinch or suck in a breath when the needles get to a particularly sensitive spot, but not her. It’s like she doesn’t feel it. I’ve asked her about it before, but she just shrugged it off.
“You know I won’t,” she teases. “Wake me up when you’re finished.”
I shake my head, amused. “We’ll see.”
I clean and shave her skin, eliminating even the short fuzz that might be there. Then I affix the stencil that outlines the bottom half of a massive phoenix rising from the flames. When she’d come to me with the ambitious idea for such a large design, I’d been skeptical that I could come up with a piece of art that could do her vision justice. But I’d worked on it for months, perfecting it. The final result might be the best piece I’ve ever created. Now, I just need to make sure it translates well onto her skin. I can’t fuck this one up. Henley will never let me hear the end of it.