Chapter 5

Sophie

Nine thirty-five stares up at me when I glance at my phone. I was determined to get here early since Lincoln thinks I'll struggle to be on time. I have a point to prove and I'm going to do everything I can to show him he didn't make a mistake when he hired me.

Telling Dad I started at nine-fifteen to allow myself enough time to change on the way here was tough. I hate lying to him, but what's another lie on top of the biggest of them all? I'm not sure what's going to happen when he finds out what my new job is—because he'll eventually find out. I only hope by then, I'll be a tattoo artist with a reputation for doing incredible work and he'll be proud of me.

I push the door but it's locked, so I knock on the glass and peer into the dark interior. When nobody answers after a few moments, I knock louder because maybe they're in the back office. I noticed a fancy coffee machine in the tiny kitchen area on Friday, so I'd guess they start their day there. Disappointment grows when there's still no answer. Stepping back from the building, I peer down the street and wonder if there's an entrance around the back. Heading toward the alley between two buildings, I make my way down it, ignoring the trash and wrinkling my nose at the powerful stench of urine. God, people are gross. The alley opens up to a parking lot, and it's easy to find the door to Fine Line since it matches the rest of the place. There's a burnt orange Chevelle parked in one of the bays, so I knock on the back door. Heavy footfalls sound on the polished concrete inside, and I blow out a breath to settle my nerves. When the door opens, my hot new boss is standing there. His bright blue eyes latch onto me and his eyebrows shoot up.

I focus solely on his face to stop my gaze from wandering down his fit body, which would be completely inappropriate. "Morning." I smile past my nervousness.

"Morning," he mumbles as he steps aside to allow me in.

"I knocked at the front door but there was no answer, so I thought I'd try my luck here," I explain as I step past him. His soft cedar scent wafts around me, calming me slightly. "Is there somewhere I can leave my purse, and where would you like me to start?" I ask.

He chuckles and the raspiness of it makes a direct hit in my lower belly. Crinkles form at the corner of his eyes and creases bracket his mouth beneath his stubble, which has a few white hairs here and there. "Slow down, Shortcake." Shortcake? I narrow my eyes at him and he waves his hand down the length of my body with raised brows. "You're short." Ugh! I know he's head and shoulders taller than me, but I'm not that short. I mean, maybe I am. I'm only five foot … five-five if I'm wearing my favorite boots. He waves his arm out toward the coffee machine. "Make yourself a cup and we'll go through the expectations for today."

The machine is straightforward, so I make myself a coffee in a spare cup I find at the back of the cupboard—note to self, bring a cup from home—and plonk down in the chair opposite Linc's desk. Taking my first sip, I close my eyes in appreciation. When I open them again, Lincoln is watching me with a hint of amusement.

"That first sip is always the best." I nod and watch him take a sip of his coffee, admiring the movement of his Adam's apple beneath his dark stubble. He studies me closely, and I barely resist squirming under his intense oceanic gaze. "How are you feeling about today?"

My shoulders drop and my cheeks lift. "Nervous-excited but ready to get started and learn all the things."

"Good." He leans forward in his chair. "Jenna's coming in for an hour or so to show you the computer booking system and how we take payments. Then Ken is going to show you how to set up a station because you'll be responsible for keeping our stations prepped."

"That's similar to what I had to do at artWORX and the salon, so it'll be easy to pick up." I'm confident I can learn this job quickly.

"Good. In between answering phones and dealing with clients for their appointments, you can observe Ken and me as we work." My heart skips a beat at the thought of starting my training. "We'll explain what we're doing while you observe and if you have questions, be sure to ask them. Remember, there is no such thing as a stupid question." He raises his dark brows and I nod. "You can have your phone with you, but I don't want to see you scrolling social media. There's always something that needs to be done around here."

"Yes, boss!" I salute him, to lighten the mood. His eyes widen slightly and his mouth twitches, almost like he's trying to hold back a smile.

Pushing to stand, he grabs his coffee and steps from behind his desk. "All right. I'll show you where everything is and grab Jenna's key for you." I follow him out of his office and across the hall to a small storeroom that's not much bigger than a utility closet, forcing our bodies to touch, sending scorching heat radiating through me. Oblivious to my reaction—which I work to squash so I can concentrate—he points to the various items as he explains what each one is and when it's used. Then he waves his arm out toward the bathroom and shows me where I can store my purse safely.

When we head out into the open front area, I touch the leaves of the plants as I pass. "I love the greenery. It adds a touch of softness to the place."

"That's Ken. He loves having the plants here. You'll hear him talking to them throughout the day. He even has names for each one." He pushes his hair out of his eyes. "I can never remember which one is which, so don't feel too bad if you can't keep them straight either."

A giggle escapes me before I can contain it. "I can't imagine Ken talking to the plants. He looks more like he belongs in a motorcycle club."

His body tenses. "Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving." A note of warning slides into his tone. "He's the sweetest dude you'll ever meet." He flicks the light switch and bathes the large room in light. "When you first come in, you'll need to turn on the lights, start the computer, and ensure we have everything we need to begin work. If you notice we're getting low on stock, we have a notepad in the drawer at reception. Just add anything to the list."

"Okay."

"Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was a bitch, and the bean needed an extra slice of peanut butter toast." I turn toward the woman's voice and come face to face with Jenna, the stunning woman I met on Thursday when I came in for the interview. She thought I was a college girl wanting a tattoo. Her lips spread when she finally looks up at me and Lincoln. "Hey, congrats on getting the job! Linc showed me your art. You are one talented lady." She wraps her arm around my shoulder and gives me a side hug as if we know each other well. "Morning, boss."

"Morning." He steps close to her, inspecting her from top to bottom with narrowed eyes. "How are you feeling, Jen?"

"Didn't get much sleep last night. All of my insides feel as though they're squashed behind my ribs, but I'm feeling good right now. I'll probably nap this afternoon." She pushes a multitude of gorgeous braids over her shoulder. "You ready to get started?"

"Absolutely. Show me all the things I need to know."

"All right, I'll leave you ladies to it." He looks directly at me. "When you're finished with Jenna, Ken will show you how to set up our stations." Without waiting for a response, he spins on his heel and stalks to the front door to unlock it.

Jenna turns on the computer and while we wait for it to load, she explains what a typical flow will look like. "People may walk in or phone to make an appointment. The first appointment is a sit down with an artist while the client discusses what they would like. You may do a couple of quick sketches to confirm that you're both on the same page. You'll also need to do a tracing of the area where they want the tattoo so you have measurements as well as any scars, moles, or birthmarks you need to work with or around." She shows me the booking and payment system—explaining how each step of the workflow fits and how it looks in the program—which is similar to the one I've been using at Beyond the Fringe but different from the program artWORX used, but it's easy enough to pick up.

Ken breezes in with a watering can. "Morning, ladies."

When I turn to say good morning back, Jenna stops me with a chuckle. She leans in and whispers, "He's talking to his plants."

My eyes widen. "Oh."

"He'll get to us in a sec." She holds three fingers up and mouths, "three … two … one."

"Morning, doll." He wraps his arm around Jenna and gives her a side hug. "How are you feeling?" His eyes trace her from head to toe with concern. I love how Lincoln and Ken check in with Jenna like she's more than an employee. They feel more like a family.

She chuckles and presses her hand on his protruding belly. "I'm great. Especially now that I've seen you."

His cheeks turn pink. "How's the bean?"

She rubs her stomach lovingly, her expression softening. "The bean's doing great."

"Awesome." Ken turns his attention to me. "How are you doing, doll?"

I smile brightly because I'm living the dream right now. "I'm great, thanks. Jenna's showing me the computer system and explaining how the appointments work."

"Good. If there's anything you forget, you can always ask me or Linc,"—I slide my eyes to Lincoln, something I can't seem to stop myself from doing—"so don't stress if you can't remember everything." Well, that takes some of the pressure off.

"Thanks, Ken."

He nods, then makes his way around the room, watering his plants, twisting the pots, and talking to them as he does. It's quite a sight. The bell over the door rings and when I look toward the sound, a stocky guy with arms covered in colorful tattoos enters. Jenna nudges me. "Let's see what you've got."

I nod and smile. "Good morning, welcome to Fine Line. How can I help you today?"

He grins at me as he leans on the counter. "You could give me your number, beautiful."

Jenna chuckles as Linc's voice booms from his station where he's setting up. "Cut it out, Daniel." Daniel chuckles and Linc steps forward to look at me. "He's here for his appointment with me. He thinks he's a ladies' man. Just ignore him."

"Aww, damn. Stomp on a man's ego, why don't ya?" He says to Linc with a cheeky grin and a wink at me before greeting my boss with a familiar handshake. They make their way over to Lincoln's station, leaving Jenna and me alone.

"Hmm, interesting," Jenna murmurs.

"What's interesting?"

She glances at me, then across to Lincoln. "He never stopped Daniel from hitting on me when I first started here."

I wave off her comment. "It's probably because Linc thinks I'm so young."—I roll my eyes.—"If you could call twenty-six young."

She chews her lip. "Nah, I don't think so. I was only eighteen." My eyes widen. Oh. She nods, raising a single perfectly shaped brow. "Yeah. Anyway, you can mark Daniel as arrived." She points to the screen to show me how to do it. "And when he's finished and you take his payment, the square will turn blue."

My time with Jenna flies by and she heads out to meet her husband for lunch. After Ken explains how to set up each station and I deal with a phone call, I head over to Linc to watch him work. His focus is locked on his client's muscular thigh as he shades the scales of an enormous dragon wrapped around Daniel's leg. Each scale looks as though it's glistening and I swear if I were to touch it, it would feel cool like a snake. The tiger-slash-woman tattoo on Lincoln's left forearm shifts with the movement of his muscles as he holds Daniel's flesh taut, the blue eyes following me as I watch.

"Look at how I maintain three points of contact, Sophie. I anchor my elbow on the table, touch Daniel's leg with my wrist, and anchor my little finger against the thumb I use to stretch his skin." I study each point of contact carefully. It looks easy enough, but I bet it takes practice to get it right. "This keeps my hand steady to ensure my lines are always perfectly straight. I use my fingers beneath the gun to float the needle and keep the depth consistent as I work so I don't go too shallow or too deep." He returns his focus to his work and I lose myself watching the mesmerizing action as ink that looks almost iridescent fills each scale, one by one. I glance up at Daniel's face, finding him relaxed to the point of bliss.