Kieran
He checked himself in the mirror again. He was wearing a white polo with the collar open, so all his ink popped. His hair looked good. Why he felt the need to look good was a mystery. He should make himself look undesirable, but feeling sexy boosted his confidence.
Unable to put it off any longer, he finished his coffee and walked across the road.
The city was busy for a Monday, but since most companies had gone to three days in the office, many started the week by getting one of them out of the way.
The temperature was already in the mid-twenties, with the sun glaring off the cheese-grater building, which dominated the view from where he stood.
He opened the shop door and almost gasped with relief when he saw Grant was there, with Carl. He’d been worried he’d be alone with Carl before the others arrived.
“There he is. The boss man,” said Grant, with a big smile.
Kieran couldn’t help smiling. He focused his attention on Grant, not looking at Carl, who was all suited and booted again.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” asked Grant.
“Does coffee count?”
“It does not,” he said with a frown. “Let’s grab something. Carl will wait here for the others to arrive. You two can chat later.”
Before he could say anything, Grant put an arm around his shoulder and was steering him back out of the shop.
Had Carl said something to Grant? Were they genuinely going for breakfast, or was Kieran going to be bundled into a blacked-out vehicle?
He’d told no one about Carl, so nobody would know the reason if he just disappeared.
“Are you okay, Kieran?”
“What? Oh . . . sorry . . . yeah, just tired.” Always a safe thing to say.
“Well, let’s get something inside you. That should put a smile back on your handsome face.”
He looked at Grant, who looked at him deadpan, but his eyes sparkled with teasing, making Kieran laugh.
“That’s better. Have you been to Fortnum and Mason in the Royal Exchange?”
“Bit out of my price range.”
“Not anymore it isn’t, bossman, but breakfast is on me.”
That was another thing that had shocked Kieran.
His salary had been doubled to eighty grand, which he still couldn’t get his head around.
He was earning more than Hassan now. How did the shop make enough to pay him that?
Grant had said he’d be less reliant on tips as he’d need to run the shop and would see fewer clients.
He had his regulars, whom he would keep, but he wouldn’t be taking on anyone new.
If being the manager meant he wouldn’t be tattooing as much anymore, then it probably wasn’t for him.
At least this gave him the chance to test-drive the job before he committed to owning his own place.
They arrived at the Royal Exchange, and it reminded Kieran of what he loved about working in the city: the mix of historical and modern working harmoniously together.
The architecture of the building was still intact, yet modern shops were dotted around it.
Their breakfast location was in the middle of the atrium and didn’t look out of place.
Grant didn’t even have to say anything and they were taken to a table.
Kieran’s stomach was churning with nerves, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat anything, but the last thing he wanted to be was rude.
“Have you had eggs Benedict before, Kieran?”
He shook his head.
“Do you like poached eggs?”
“Yeah.”
“Bacon?”
“Of course.”
“Toasted English muffins?”
He nodded.
“Have you had hollandaise sauce before?”
He wasn’t sure. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t be certain, so he shrugged.
“Tea okay? Or do you want another coffee? I’d recommend the tea here. I never have tea away from home, especially in London where they don’t know how to brew it properly. Usually looks like gnats’ piss, but it’s perfect here.”
“Tea sounds good.”
Grant gestured for the server to come over.
She seemed flustered. Did she know who he was, or was she just feeling nervous about serving the hot as fuck alpha guy who was wearing a tailored suit that showed off his body to perfection?
Kieran might have turned down the chance to go there, but he could still appreciate hotness when it was sitting across from him.
The man might terrify him, but he was still a horny bitch.
Grant ordered their food, asking them to put the hollandaise on the side for Kieran, and ordered them tea and orange juice.
“How are you feeling, Kieran?”
“Er . . . fine.”
“Not excited about your first day as the boss?”
“Oh . . . yeah . . . a bit nervous, really.”
“That’s normal. Everyone feels like that on their first day at a new job. I’m sure you’ve felt that before with all the moving around you’ve done.”
Kieran felt his face heat. He had a point, which is why he still didn’t fully understand why Grant was trusting him with the shop.
“Hey, none of that. Just because other people didn’t see your talents, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve this.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” he blurted out.
Grant frowned at him, then his face softened. If just a fraction of what Kieran had discovered online was true, he should be running as far as he could from this man, but he could tell he would also do anything for the people he cared about.
“Like I said, you remind me of someone who I . . . well, things didn’t go how I wanted them to.”
“Is this person still alive?” What the fuck did I ask that for?
Grant burst out laughing and reassured Kieran that his mind had gone completely to the wrong place, but he didn’t elaborate any more. Kieran’s curiosity was piqued, but he knew better than to ask any follow-up questions.
Their drinks were brought over, and Grant said it was best to let the tea steep for a while, so Kieran sipped his orange juice. It had clearly just been freshly squeezed and was delicious.
“What do you think of Carl?” asked Grant.
Kieran was grateful he wasn’t drinking anything at that moment. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just shrugged and offered a weak smile.
“Is everything okay, Kieran? You don’t seem your usual spunky self.”
“It’s nothing . . . I’m fine . . . I’m just –”
“Tired, you said. Has something happened with that Papa Bear of yours?”
Kieran frowned, and then realised who Grant was referring to and chuckled. Derek gave off that kind of energy. Maybe he should suggest to Sarah that they change the project name. Grant was looking at him expectantly. What had he asked? Oh, yeah, about Derek.
“Nothing like that. I guess I just don’t know Carl yet to have an opinion.”
“Really? We all form opinions within seconds. Is something wrong?”
“I guess . . . it’s just . . .” Fuck! Why couldn’t he speak? “I’ve learnt not to go with my first impression. Been burnt enough times doing that before.”
Kieran breathed a sigh of relief. That was good as a vague enough answer, although based on the look of fury on Grant’s face, he’d made a mistake. He couldn’t help but flinch. Grant took hold of his hand and squeezed it affectionately.
“You need to give me the names of the people who’ve hurt you, Kieran.”
What. The. Fuck! Was he serious?
There was no way he was doing that, and besides, the list of all the men who’d treated him like shit was too long. He couldn’t even remember their profile names, let alone their real names.
“Kieran?”
“I’m fine, Grant. I like to leave the past where it belongs.”
He didn’t look happy but thankfully decided not to push it.
“Well, if anyone from the past shows their face, be sure to tell me straight away, won’t you?”
The look on his face made it clear there could be only one answer.
“Of course.”
Grant smiled and then focused on making their tea.
He wondered what the man would think if he knew the kind of guy he had in his inner circle.
Would he take the same approach? Kieran doubted it, which is why he’d be keeping his history with Carl to himself.
At least with Grant being around as well, there’d be less opportunity for Carl to do anything. That made him feel safe . . . for now.
The feeling of safety didn’t last long. Over breakfast, Grant said he was going to Boston for two weeks on business, but Kieran should call him if he needed anything.
Carl would be there to support him day-to-day, but Grant was always there at the end of the phone.
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to get him so much attention from a mob boss, but while the guy was terrifying, you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing he was in your corner, which was all manner of fucked up.
When he got back to the shop, Carl wasn’t there, but the other tattooists were.
They didn’t seem bothered that Kieran was now in charge.
A couple of them were older than him but had no interest in management, and he got on with everyone.
It was Jez who nobody had liked. Kieran wondered what had happened to him.
He hoped Jez had just been sacked and nothing more permanent had happened.
He needed to stop thinking like that, or he’d be a nervous wreck.
Maybe he needed to watch fewer gangster movies too.
He might have gone on a mafia film and TV binge ever since he met Grant for the first time.
It had probably warped his perspective a bit.
The day passed in a blur of clients, and there was a cheerful buzz in the place. Jez had been funny about having music on, but Kieran had no such qualms. It had been a great atmosphere all day, and before he knew it the others were waving him goodbye, leaving him to lock up.
As he was about to lock the front door, Carl appeared, scaring the shit out of him. Should Kieran just lock him out? But then, this was the only exit, so that wouldn’t end well for him. He opened the door, and Carl walked in, giving Kieran a smile that made him shudder.
“How was your first day as the boss, Kieran?”
“It was . . . yeah . . . it was good.”
“Excellent. I thought we could have a drink and clear the air. It’s important to Grant that we get along, and we don’t want to disappoint him, do we?”
“No . . . no . . . of course not. Have you been to Knights Corner?”
“I think it would be better to have a drink here, where we can talk in private.”
Kieran froze. He needed to get the fuck out of here.
“Kieran, relax. I know you’ve got your own dom now.”
“Huh?”
“The guy at The Back Room?”
Did Carl think Derek was his dom? That could be to his advantage.
“Yeah . . . I mean, when we . . . it wasn’t . . . we weren’t.”
“It’s fine, Kieran, we had a couple of good scenes. I was drunk that night in the club, so I apologise, but our other two scenes were fun, weren’t they?”
The first was, but the second definitely wasn’t. What was Kieran supposed to say?
“You didn’t use your safe word. Did I do something you didn’t like, Kieran?”
And there it was. He didn’t know whether Carl would have stopped if he’d used his safe word.
Technically, he’d done nothing wrong, and it was clear he was trying to put the past behind them.
If he thought he was off the market now, then he’d hopefully keep his hands to himself, and he hadn’t been around here all day.
He’d left Kieran to run the place by himself.
He’d assumed Carl was going to be around all the time, but if he was just a mentor, then why would he?
Carl probably had a lot of businesses he oversaw for Grant.
“Everything’s fine. Just a bit tired after a full-on day.”
“How about just a quick one, and then I’ll let you get home?”
“Okay, I think there are some beers in the fridge.”
“I put a bottle of wine in there earlier. Grant mentioned that you preferred it.”
Kieran nodded. A nice cold glass of wine would be perfect right now. He was feeling way too tense.
“You cash up, and I’ll get us both a glass. We can have them out here. There’s more room than in the office.”
He was right. That office was tiny. He wasn’t sure how a guy as big as Jez had spent so much time in there without feeling claustrophobic.
Kieran cashed up the till, which didn’t take long as few people paid in cash these days, but he needed to reconcile the credit card receipts and stick the cash in the safe.
He’d closed up before, so he knew the process well enough.
By the time he was putting the money in a bag to take to the bank tomorrow, Carl was walking towards him with two glasses of delicious-looking wine. He took the proffered glass.
“Here’s to moving forward,” said Carl with a smile.
“Moving forward,” said Kieran.
They clinked glasses, and he took a big gulp. It tasted delicious and was chilled to perfection. Ideal after a hot day. He took another sip, not realising he’d just made a mistake he would live to regret for the rest of his life.