honest, there’s no way I could pay you in cash right now, so let’s just say I’d be giving you a good deal on the ink. Besides...” That devilish half grin she’d given him through the window earlier turned up the side of her mouth. “You don’t know what I’m going to have you doing.”
What she had him doing, it turned out, at least for that first day, was little more than counting inventory and learning her booking system. When she ran out of things for him to do, Rhea offered to start working on his touch-ups while he was still on the clock. He hadn’t expected her to start right away, but he certainly had no objection. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be. As long as he was back at the motel before nightfall, everything would be fine.
* * *
As soon as Rhea’s fingers brushed his ink, there were whispers of visions. Her gift had initially manifested as shared visions with her clients, a kind of psychic reading, and she’d done a few for family and friends. But her skills had recently expanded to include the delivery of more immediate images that popped into her head without the client even being aware of it—and without her wanting to see them. Ever since she’d gotten images from some creep thinking about pushing her head into his lap, she’d been very careful not to indulge in the latter type.
She tried to keep her mind occupied by focusing on the physical anchors of the here and now—the sharp scent of the alcohol as she swabbed Leo’s skin, the soft snick of the razor as it traveled over the blond hairs on his arm, the warmth of Leo’s body heat as she leaned in close to examine the lines she’d be tracing. And the scent of his skin, like amber-resin oil and pumpkin spice and—Wow.
Rhea got up and busied herself readying supplies to get herself under control. What the heck was that about? He was kinda hot, sure, but not so-hot-that-smelling-him-makes-you-wet hot. Except, clearly, he was.
She worked to keep from blushing as she gave him a smile after setting up the machine and ink caps. “Okay, ready?”
Leo smiled back, and it nearly melted her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
She managed to act like a normal person as she sat and got to work on the outline. When the needles made contact with Leo’s skin, the image bombarded her psyche: blood spattered across a dazzling field of snow, like a giant cherry slush spilled on a white rug.
Leo was looking at her funny. “Are you okay?”
She’d taken her foot off the pedal. “Hmm? Yep, sorry, just thinking for a sec. I might want to use round needles for the line work instead of flat. Give it some more depth, since some of these strokes are really fine.” She hoped she wasn’t babbling nonsense. She could barely remember the words as they left her mouth. Rhea took a breath and went back to work. “I’ll start on the thicker lines on the three parallel columns.”
“Staves.”
“What’s that?”
“The columns are called staves, like in the tarot.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” And like the tarot, they were drawing pictures she couldn’t unsee. Running through thick overgrowth in an ancient wood, tree branches scoring limbs and face. After someone. On the hunt. A pause in the here and now to wipe the blood. The enemy emerges from the darkness. Now the hunted. Swinging the blade to block the blow and missing. Stumbling headlong into the snow as the light grows dim.
Somehow, she got through it without botching the original work and actually managed to make the tattoo sharper and bolder while giving the lines a bit more definition and character—a subtle woodiness to the staves, with ridges and bumps of texture in the outlines if you looked closely.
“This looks fantastic.” Leo studied his tattoo in the light, obviously pleased, as Rhea cleaned up.
“I hope you don’t mind the little extras I added. If you prefer the lines smooth, I can go over it again.”
“No, it’s great.” Leo looked up, his eyes shining behind his glasses. “I hope I can earn it.”
“It took me a little longer than I expected, but I’ll honor the estimate. So ten hours of work should do it.”
Leo shook his head. “Nope. I’ll pay for the time it took. Plus, there’s the tip, which you’ve totally earned. This is excellent work.”
Rhea felt her cheeks warm, as if he’d complimented her on her body instead of praising her skill. “Well, thanks. But you don’t have to tip.” Yes, he does, Rhea. Shut up and take the money. Even if the money was paid in labor, she had earned it, and she needed to stop devaluing herself if she wanted to make a living as an artist.
“But I want to. So what would twenty percent bring it to?”
“An hour and a half at one fifty an hour would be two twenty-five—”
“An hour and a half?” Leo’s brows drew together as he drew his phone from his pocket.
“Yeah, I know. Really, I’m absolutely cool with charging what I originally estimated. It’s not your fault I got fancy. Let’s make it one fifty plus anything else you think is appropriate.”
“No, that’s not it.” He was still looking at his phone, his expression slightly worried. “I’ll happily pay for the work. I just didn’t realize how late it was.”
Rhea glanced at the tablet on its stand. She’d spent a little extra time setting up, but it wasn’t even six o’clock yet.
“Sorry. I should have let you know what time it was when we got started. Did you have somewhere you needed to be?”
Leo slipped his phone into his pocket and gave her a slightly forced smile. “No, it’s cool. I’m just not a night person. I like to be home before it gets dark.”
“I suppose you turn into a pumpkin?”
Leo’s laugh was nervous. “Something like that.”
Rhea couldn’t figure out what faux pas she’d made, but she’d definitely made one. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to jump right into it after your first day of work. We can schedule the rest of your touch-ups for whenever you want.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. And I love the tattoo, so it’s all good.”
She still felt she’d upset him somehow. Maybe a gesture of trust would smooth things over. Rhea twisted an extra door key off the shop ring.
“In case I need you to open or close sometime.”
Leo stared as she placed the key in his palm. “You’re giving me a key?”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?” Damn, she really hoped there wasn’t.
Leo’s smile this time was genuine and a little heartbreakingly adorable. “Absolutely not. You’ve got my Social Security number, so you can track me down. Not that you’d ever have to track me down. Because you won’t need to. You can count on me.” Leo looked flustered at his own rambling. He held out the key. “Maybe you should keep this after all.”
Rhea laughed. “No, take it. Just know that I will hunt you down if you ever screw me over.” He looked a little worried. Which was perhaps a little
