Adrian
The shop has been busierthan ever since Charleigh started tattooing. And, I have the pleasure of being tortured by the sight of Sophia on a daily basis. It’s not a bad thing. It does make things more difficult for me and my growing interest in her.
She's been working at the shop for over a year, and while she makes things a lot easier for us, every day I have to remind myself why it's a bad idea to date a coworker. I've been intrigued by her since the day she got her first tattoo. Then, she was a scared, meek girl. But now… she seems stronger, as if she’s finally found her footing in the world and nothing is holding her back anymore. Everything from her hair to the colorful ink adorning her arms has changed. What was once long, straight brown hair is now a short blonde bob. She’s bolder, and I think Bianca has a lot to do with that.
"Hey Adrian," Sophia leans against the door jamb. "Is there anything you're running low on? I'm going to make a supply order in hopes that it gets here before this weekend."
She doesn't really have to do those orders because it usually falls on our shoulders, but she's doing her best to make sure she adds value to the shop. I don't know why, there's no chance in hell Corey would ever fire her. She keeps the breakroom and the lobby cleaner than Charleigh ever did, and makes the entire atmosphere better. Nobody likes working in a messy shop. I'm pretty sure if it was up to Corey, and it definitely is, he would have her come in and run the shop while he would stay home with his wife. Not that that would ever happen. He loves tattooing way too much for that. He’d most likely have withdrawals and call up here nonstop to “check in,” causing us to get behind while we answer his questions.
"No,” I glance at my supply drawer. "I'm good. I ordered extra supplies the last time."
She smiles at me and nods her head. "Good deal. I only wanted to check because as usual Bianca waits until the last minute to let me know she's running out of ink." Sighing she turns around muttering, “That’s the one thing you don’t want to run out of. How can you tattoo people without ink?”
She’s adorable when she works on a task. Doing her best to make sure everything is perfect. My eyes catch on the pack of transfer paper sitting on my table. It’s unopened, but she doesn’t know that. “Actually, Soph, I need some more transfer paper.” Any excuse to talk to her. When she’s paying attention, I do my best to be a dick. There’s no good reason why. But if she doesn’t express interest, then I don’t have to worry about any future relationship. Backward ass thinking, I know.
Sophia is back at my door within a minute. “You literally just said you didn’t need anything.”
Stepping to the right to block her view of my table, I reply, “I know. But I thought I would double check, just in case.”
She lifts an eyebrow, and tilts her head to the side. Damn it, she’s knows I’m lying. The shrill ring of the shop phone begins, and she rolls her eyes. “If you say so. I’ll add it to the order.” Turning, she hurries to the front desk picking up the phone just before it stops ringing.
This girl, no woman, needs to get out of my head. She’s consumed my thoughts for a long time. At first, they were welcome, a way for me to get over the bullshit with Miranda. Now, it’s hard for me to come to work and see her every single day. She’s within reach, but I forbid myself from grasping onto her. I’ve already been left once for greener pastures, and I’m not going to willingly let it happen again.
Pulling my appointment book out of the drawer, I scan the pages to see how the rest of my day is going to go. Soph has the main schedule up front, and everyone usually asks her what their day looks like. Not me, though. I keep my own to cut down on my interactions with her. It’s the only way I could think of to keep me in my area and away from her.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see there are only five appointments. Hopefully they’ll end at the time they are supposed to otherwise I’ll be here late. My plans tonight include going to a bar, drowning in my sorrows, and finding someone to erase all thoughts of Soph. It’s not likely to happen. There’s no way anyone can drive her from my thoughts. I’ve tried to no avail.
* * *
I knew my lack of appointments was too good to be true. The first appointment went fine, and we finished the small ladybugs on her foot long before her time would have been up. It was the second one that screwed up the rest of my day.
That’s my one issue when it comes to this job. You quote somebody a price and approximation of how long it's going to take, and they come in adding to the original design. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem giving my clients exactly what they want. But when the changes almost completely override what we had discussed, it not only puts a kink in my workday, it also cuts into other people's time and they aren’t out of here when they expect to be.
Even though it's a Wednesday night, music can be heard from the bars up and down the street. I'm supposed to be at one of those bars right now, instead I'm cleaning up my workstation and making sure the rest of the nighttime duties are taken care of. A cold beer in my hand would be so much better. Hell, I may go grab a drink after this anyway. It’s not like the bars are closing any time soon.
Turning the corner to enter the break room, I run into Sophia. "Oh shit," she shrieks and rubs her nose.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you were still here." It's odd because I am usually the last one to leave if I'm working at night. The break room is typically one of the last things I check. Charleigh has a tendency to leave her snack wrappers all over the table. “Are you okay?”
“I think so?” She’s still rubbing her face where she ran into my chest. “You should consider working out less. That,” she points toward my chest, “is a dangerous weapon. Are you sure you aren’t hiding bricks under your shirt?” Her cheeks redden immediately, and she takes a few steps back.
I smirk. Not because I hurt her with my apparent dangerous weapons, but because I caused a reaction in her. It shouldn’t fill me with joy, and I mentally kick myself for the feeling. She is off limits. Too bad the thudding organ in my chest isn’t on the same page as my brain. “Why are you still here? The girls left an hour ago.”
She winces. Maybe my voice was a little harsher than I intended it to be. “I know that,” her chin lifts a bit higher, shrugging off my tone. “You still had a client, though. I stay until all of the clients are gone. It’s what Corey and I agreed on, and I take my job very seriously.”
My eyes roll of their own accord. “I never implied that you didn’t.” Glancing over her shoulder to the breakroom, I ask, “Is everything in there, cleaned up?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “Why is it so hard for Charleigh to throw her wrappers in the trash? I’ve met her parents, and I know they didn’t let her get away with that crap at home. She doesn’t even do it in her own apartment. I don’t understand why she does it here?”
“Because,” I snort, “she’s seeing how long she can get away with it before you say something to her.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.” My head moves back and forth. “She used to try to pull that crap with me before she graduated high school. I told her I wasn’t her father and she damn well better pick up after herself.” I shrug. “There hasn’t been a problem since. Until you came along.”
“I’d expect that crap from Bianca. She can be scary sometimes. But I never would have thought Charleigh would do that.” Shooting a quick glare at the breakroom door, she says, “I guess I’m going to have a talk with her.”
“Have fun with that.” The light in my workroom is still on, and I walk back to turn it off. “Are you ready to leave?”