Below that, scribbled in different handwriting, was a mobile number followed by a loveheart. Nicole stared at it. It stared at her. Her vision greyed at the edges.
“So, I’m thinking we should go to Garden State,” Daniella said. “They doamazingespresso martinis.”
Noah grunted.
“Okay, grumpy! You can pick the place, then.”
The silence that followed was as thick as bad custard. Nicole typed in Daniella’s details as loudly as she could, trying to break it. She could feel Noah watching her. Was he noting the lack of makeup? The hollows under her eyes, the scar on her chin? And why did she care? He sucked. First, he’d asked her out and now he was going for a drink with this…alleged personwho was nice and also the worst person Nicole had ever met. She held her hand out to Daniella Bright. “Can I have your card, please?”
“Oh sure!”
Daniella’s fingernails were a velvet purple. The colour would have looked horrible on Nicole, brought out the blue in her veins, her spider fingers. But maybe that was what Noah liked, purple nails and kitten tattoos. As she swiped her card and told Daniella to punch in her pin, she made her decision. She was moving away from Melbourne and getting rid of her tattoo. Screw Sam and Tabby, they’d left her in this mess. Screw her dad, he’d started this mess. And most of all, screw Noah, the flaky, van-driving, probably bikie-being jerk. They could all go do one.
The machine pinged its authorization. “It looks like it’s worked,” she said. “Do you need a receipt?”
Daniella looked across at Noah. “Um, no?”
“Okay, well…” Nicole raised her eyebrows at Noah, You deal with this.
He jerked to life, like a robotic giant. “You want to book another session while you’re here?”
Daniella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Um yeah. But I’ll call when I know my work hours.”
“Right,” Noah said.
“Right.” Daniella’s gaze flicked to the door. “So…you have my number?”
Nicole looked at the post-it note. What would happen if she just…put it in her mouth and ate it?
“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Noah said. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Great!” A relieved-looking Daniella waved at her. “Thanks, Nicole!”
Nicole nodded. It was that or say the supremely unfair ‘please stop coming here.’
Noah hustled his client out of the door and Nicole stood behind the counter, waiting so she could leave without seeing them talking or kissing or whatever awful thing was happening out the front of her dad’s studio. She closed her eyes and thought of her perfect future. Now she’d decided she was leaving Melbourne, she could transfer to Sydney? No, that was where The Rangers lived. Tasmania? Too small. Paris? Her heart jumped; she’d always wanted to live in Paris. A tattoo removal and then Paris? Was that where her perfect future lay? The door opened and Noah strode by without a sideways glance. “Sorry about that. You can head back upstairs.”
Nicole gaped at him. Oh, she could head back upstairs, could she? He was sorry, was he? Anger, hot and lovely, ignited her jealousy like a match through kerosene. She marched after him, catching him as he reached his tattoo room. His music was still playing, a rap song with ugly words and a pretty music-box beat. “What are you doing?”
Noah’s expression was flat. “Cleaning my machine.”
“Not that. You and your client. You asked for her number.”
“And?”
“Do you have any idea how unprofessional this is?”
Noah’s jaw flexed. “You need to go home.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Nicole was aware her voice was rising, knew she sounded mildly insane, but she didn’t care. “You can’t act like this place is your live-action Tinder. It makes us look like perverts!”
“It’s just a drink.”
“It’s not! It’s my sister’s reputation!”
“Sammy doesn’t give a fuck. You know she’s ‘dated’ a few clients herself.”
He tried to shake off her hold, but Nicole clung on, ignoring the heat pulsating through her palms. “Not lately. Not now she owns the business. You know it’s not just her reputation you’re ruining, it’s my dad’s, as well.”