Chapter 6

Lincoln

Having Sophie sitting so close and her eyes on my work, soaking in every detail, is testing my restraint. She's eager to learn everything she can and her thoughtful questions show she's intuitive enough to consider how the artwork will interact with the play of muscles and skin tone. When I glance up from my work, her brown eyes catch mine and it could be pure coincidence, but my heart skitters. Her excitement about something that has become commonplace for me is tangible and I'm feeding off of it, making the scales I'm working on seem almost real.

I always do my best work because the client deserves my best every single time. They have to wear my art and I take pride in making each piece better than the last; but with her eyes on me, I'm pushing myself to the next level.

I blot the final spot and push away from the table, stretching out my back and neck. I need to practice taking regular breaks instead of getting lost in the work for hours on end. I never had a problem with aches and pains when I was younger, but getting older is a bitch now I'm closer to forty than thirty. It even takes me longer to recover from a fight, and that pisses me off because I know my time as a fighter is coming to an end. I'll have to work out a different way to raise money for the charity I support.

Daniel hops off the table, heads for the mirror, and twists his leg this way and that. "Man, this is fucking awesome."

"I'm glad you like it." I explain the aftercare for the new artwork to Sophie as I work. Daniel's a return customer, so he knows exactly what he needs to do over the next days and weeks.

The bell over the door rings and Sophie heads to the reception desk to greet the next client. While I clean up, she takes Daniel's payment and guides Natasha to the round table where we meet with clients to discuss their needs. I'm impressed at how well she's managing the front desk duties without a hitch. She said she was a fast learner and I don't think she was overselling herself.

"Sophie, how about you bring your sketchpad with you and sit in on our chat? Natasha is here to discuss a new tattoo she'd like. This would be a great opportunity to learn this part of the process and I wouldn't mind seeing you draw up some sketches."

Her eyes widen, and she bites her bottom lip. "Really? You think I can do that?"

"We'll see. But I'm confident you can handle drawing the sketches. Your line work is fantastic."

"Thank you." Her cheeks pinken and she drops her warm gaze from mine as she grabs her sketchpad to follow me to the table where Natasha is flipping through one of our design books.

I hold out my hand as I reach the table. "Hi, Natasha. I'm Lincoln and this is Sophie. This is Sophie's first day, so I hope you don't mind if she sits in."

She stands, taking my hand with a soft smile. "Hi, Lincoln. Sophie. I don't mind at all."

"Hi, Natasha. Thank you," Sophie says as we all sit.

"Tell us a little about what you're looking for," I say and nod toward Sophie's sketchpad. "We'll draw up some rough ideas from your thoughts."

Natasha swallows and licks her lips. "I heard you specialize in tattooing women who have had a mastectomy."

I nod. "I do. How far post-op are you?"

"Two years. I thought I could live with my new breasts, but every time I look in the mirror, all I see is what I've lost. I want to look at my body and love it again." She twists her fingers together. "It's affecting me and my marriage."

"Well, you've come to the right place. Do you have anything in mind?"

She shrugs. "This might sound silly, but I want something feminine and dainty. Beautiful." Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sophie drawing some swirly design on her pad. The lines are delicate and feminine, like a fine lace. It's exactly what Natasha is describing. "I hate that all I see are my scars and missing nipples."

I point to the sketchpad. "Something like this?"

Sophie's pencil doesn't stop as she adds more detail, more swirls, more lines. Natasha gasps, bringing her hand up to her chest and I glance at Sophie's face to see if she's noticed her reaction, but she's so far in the zone that I don't think she's even aware of anything happening around her right now.

"Oh my gosh, it's beautiful." She looks up at me, then back at the design. "Sophie, it's perfect."

At the sound of her name, Sophie looks up as if coming out of a daze. "Huh?"

I nudge Sophie's arm. "Natasha loves it."

"Really? I can do other designs for you."

"It's gorgeous. I don't need to see another design." Natasha points to the page. "This is the one I want."

Sophie's smile is instant and her shoulders straighten. "Thank you. I'm so glad you like it. I can change any part of it and I'm sure we'll need to modify it to shape around your breasts properly. I imagine the design cupping your breasts like a bra would."

Natasha nods as her lips spread. "Perfect."

Ken wanders over to look at the design and his eyes widen when they land on Sophie's sketchpad. "Your lines are beautifully delicate, doll. This is a stunning piece."

She tips her head back to smile at him. "Thanks, Ken. That means a lot coming from someone as talented as you."

"All right. If this is the design you'd like, we need to take some measurements so Sophie can draw it properly. Do you mind following me over to the far table and we can drag the curtain around for privacy?"

"Sure."

Sophie, Natasha, and I head to the last table and I drag the curtain around. Natasha removes her shirt and bra and I trace the area we'll be working with, ensuring I mark the scars so Sophie can cover them effectively with lines, explaining each step. "Okay. Let's see when we can book you in. We'll leave you to dress. Please join us at reception when you're ready."

Sophie's almost giddy when we reach the reception desk. "I can't believe she liked my design straight up."

"I can. It's a stunning piece. You listened to what she wanted and delivered exactly what she asked for. You did a great job at listening to the client's request."

She ducks her head as pink paints her cheeks, again. When Natasha joins us, I talk Sophie through the booking system, particularly how to calculate the time a tattoo like this should take, and we look for a time slot that will allow enough time as well as fit in with Natasha's schedule. "All right, we'll see you in four weeks."

"How much will it cost?"

"We don't charge for mastectomy tattoos here."

Both Natasha and Sophie's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah." I rub the back of my neck. "My mom survived breast cancer, so this is something I do to honor her victory."

Natasha blinks and her hand rises to cover her chest. "Oh, wow." Her eyes grow shiny. "Thank you so much."

I nod. I don't make a big deal out of doing what I do because it isn't a big deal to me in the scheme of things. But I know it's a big deal to the men and women who come here for tattoos to cover their battle scars. "You're welcome. See you when you come in."

"I can't wait. Thank you so much. I can't wait to show my husband once it's finished." Natasha walks out of the studio looking much lighter and freer than she did when she walked in. She'll have even more confidence the next time she walks out that door, and that's something that fills me with pride.

Sophie breaks me from my thoughts when she rests her hand on my arm, singeing my flesh. "You do all mastectomy tattoos for free?" I nod. "That's an incredible gift, Lincoln." She bites her bottom lip, then adds, "Sorry about your mom," she murmurs.

I shrug. "I guess I got to see first-hand the impact of losing breasts has on a woman. Even though she survived, it took a toll on her emotionally and mentally."

Sophie sighs and when I glance down at her, I can't read her expression, but I want to check in with her. "How did that appointment feel for you?"

"So good. Did you see how excited she was? That tattoo is going to change her life. It's going to make her feel comfortable in her skin again. That's a remarkable thing to do for someone."

And that's exactly the vibe I want from my employees and why I gave Sophie the job. "I did. I think you're going to fit in nicely." I hold out my hand to her and she slides hers into it cautiously. "Welcome to the team." I know I already welcomed her, but I feel deep down that she's going to be an incredible asset to Fine Line.

Her shoulders drop from around her ears and her grin spreads wide. "Thank you. I promise you won't be sorry."

Now to keep the relationship between us professional because every time I'm near the woman, I want to erase the space between us and do filthy things to her.