by T Gephart
“Last night’s predicament didn’t need to have happened.”
He laughed, the asshole finding it amusing. “Of course it didn’t, you can get to know the woman before you put your dick inside her.”
“Very funny, but no.” I rolled my eyes. “Instead, Kitty and I are going to coach each other, giving each other the in so we don’t end up with the crazies.”
Josh laughed, his body shaking as he shook his head. “You two are going to join forces and coach each other?”
“Yep.” I nodded proudly.
“D, you really think that is a good idea?” Josh raised an eyebrow, the grin still on his face. “Isn’t it a little like the blind leading the blind?”
I scratched my head, failing to see where he was going with the analogy. “What are you talking about? Blind people get led all the time with no issue, what do you think the dog is for?”
“The dog can fucking SEE, Dallas!” He cursed out a laugh. “I’m not sure which one of the two of you is worse, but even a blind person would see what a hot mess this is going to end up as. Lord, help us all.”
I got his concern—even if it was misguided—but I was more than confident we were going to prove him wrong. “Trust me, we’ve got this. Seriously, what is the worst that can go wrong?”
He shook his head, slowly backing toward the doorway. “Dude, stop talking. I can’t even reason with you when you’re in this mood. Let’s get some work done, I’ve got Mason coming later to check out the shop.”
“Whatever.” I flipped him off and watched him leave.
I wasn’t sure when he’d found the new guy or why he hadn’t mentioned it before. And had I been a pussy, I might have gotten my feelings bent out of shape. But honestly, I didn’t care. As long as this dude was a decent artist and not a serial killer, I was happy to have him on the team. Besides, there was the very real possibility that Josh had mentioned it and I hadn’t been paying attention. Business shit bored the hell out of me, so anytime we had a “meeting” I had a tendency to zone out. Not like I had a say in the matter anyway, it was his business and he was going to do what he wanted, so it was really just a waste of brain activity.
And I had more important stuff to fill my brain.
Trish, the chick who was scheduled for a hip piece rapped at my open doorway. “You ready for me, Dallas?”
And even if I hadn’t been ready, I sure as shit would be. Super-hot, nice tits and a pair of bright pink lips that were begging for a blowjob—she wasn’t the kind of woman I could ignore.
Besides, it was our last appointment which meant all that heat she’d been tossing my way no longer had to be ignored. I needed to play a lottery ticket or something because surely the day couldn’t get any better.
“Sure thing, sweetheart. Take a seat and give me a few minutes to set up.” I tipped my chin to my tattoo chair, my machines not ready.
She nodded, swaying her hips with intent as she moved across my room and planting her ass as directed, relaxing into the chair. “No stress, I’m not in any hurry.”
Good thing too, because I wasn’t a man who liked to be rushed, especially when it came to beautiful women or my work.
She watched with interest as I went through the motions, covering my machines and setting up my colors. Her lip biting didn’t go unnoticed as I snapped on a pair of black nitrile gloves.
“Now.” I slowly took my seat in my stool beside her, unable to hide my beaming grin. “Let’s get your pants off so I can get started.”
“Hey, you got a minute? Mason is here.” Josh appeared at my door like he did whenever he needed something, watching me clean off my latest work. I’d just finished an armband for a frat boy named Brendon who talked a good game until he’d sat down and then had to grit his teeth so he didn’t cry. And had I not had such a stellar morning, I might have been annoyed. But I had Trish’s number tucked into my pocket and all kinds of positivity swimming around in my head, so a whiny twenty-year-old wearing a popped-up collar polo shirt wasn’t half bad.
“Just finishing up, big guy.” I smirked at Josh before turning to frat boy and giving him the rundown on after care.
He nodded, the silent understanding passing between us that I wanted to wrap up as soon as possible. “Awesome, meet me in my room.”
Josh disappeared and I rang up Brendon out front. We still hadn’t gotten a permanent front desk person, needing us both to multi task. But I was hoping with the addition of a new artist, someone to answer our phones and help out would be soon to follow.
Small steps.
Or, I could just hire someone myself when Josh inevitably went on his honeymoon. See, there was always a work around.
As I left the front reception area and got closer to Josh’s room, I heard the laughing. Two male voices chuckling like they’d shared the funniest thing ever, and I was anxious to hear what was so hilarious. After all, Josh was the more serious of the two of us so if the new guy thought he was funny, he was going to piss his pants when he finally met me. Either that or he was one of those eager-to-please lapdogs. God, I really hoped not.
“What’s so funny?” I walked into the room, not bothering with an intro.
“Nothing important.” Josh shrugged, the grin still on his face. “Mason was just telling me about a friend we have in common. Reliving some history.”
Mason was sitting down, but I could tell the dude was well over six-foot. Big in the shoulders, which probably meant he wasn’t a lightweight, and a set of blue eyes that I was positive were contact lenses. Paired together with blond hair that hung down to his shoulders, the dude looked like he was trying to be Brad Pitt from that movie Troy.
Awesome.
A fucking pretty boy.
So much for my excellent morning.
At least he had ink, the exposed skin on his arms covered in decent art was a small consolation.
“Oh really?” I asked with interest, wondering which old friend they were discussing considering I’d known Josh more than half of our lives. “And who would that be?”
Okay, so I had already decided I didn’t like him. Partly because he looked like he would be more suited for tanning in Venice Beach than doing ink work in Queens, and partly because the bastard had come into my house and was acting so familiar.
“Joe Langston,” asshole responded wearing the same stupid smirk he’d had on when I’d walked in. “Joe was my old boss back in San Diego.”
Yeah, so I was right about the douchebag liking to tan, just needed to go a little further south on the west coast.
Josh tipped his chin to the untaken chair beside dumbass. “Take a seat, Dallas. We both have an hour before our next clients.”
“Nah, I’m good.” I nodded, preferring to stand so I could get a better read on the situation. “I’m Dallas.” I held out my hand, being a man and shaking the dick’s hand.
He reciprocated, giving it a decent shake before dropping it. “Mason. Heard a lot about both of you actually, it’s great to finally meet you.”
Yeah, well we’d see how his great-to-finally-meet-you stood later. “Joe’s a lying piece of shit, I wouldn’t believe anything he said.” I folded my arms across my chest and added a smirk of my own. “The dude’s only successful because he’s all the way over there. No way he’d hack it out here in New York.”
“D, you know Joe’s a solid artist.” Josh laughed, rolling his eyes.
“Whatever.” I shrugged, not giving a shit about Joe Langston or his abilities. “So you’re the new guy.” I hoped the dumbass was sharp enough to catch the emphasis on new. “What brings you all the way across the country?”
Working for Josh was as good a reason as any—there were guys who’d give up their left nut for the chance to work in our shop—but I was curious if there wasn’t some other motivation.
He could easily be a plant, infiltrating our set-up so he could go back to Joe and tell him what we did. While Joe might be a decent—and I used that term lightly—artist, he wasn’t even in th
e same realm as Josh and me.
The bastard eased back into his chair, not at all bothered by my question. “Well, my sister and brother-in-law just had a baby and they live out in Brooklyn. And since I’m the only family she has, I wanted my niece to grow up knowing her uncle. I mentioned it to Joe that I was looking to make the move and he hooked me up with Josh, seemed like fate.”
“The timing couldn’t have been more perfect,” Josh added. “And while Joe is awesome, we’re going to really put you through your paces.”
The dumbass—Mason, not Josh who seemed to have a serious lovefest for the douchebag—continued to tell us how he and his sister were both orphaned in their teens. And blah, blah, blah, he’d had a hard life, finding his way back through tattooing.
Great, because it wasn’t enough I disliked the guy, now he’d told me his fucking life story I was going to feel bad about it. And I hated to feel bad about anything.
“So Mason is going to come in for the rest of the week, do some consults and help at the front desk, and then start working on his own clients next week,” Josh announced, tipping his chin to the man in question. “If you have any questions let us know, but you can set up the third room however you want it and just make yourself feel at home.”
“Yeah, all the stuff Josh said. Happy to have you on board. ” I gave him a smile even though I wasn’t really feeling it.
“Thanks, I’m going to go take a look around.” Mason rose from his chair, confirming as he stood that he was a tall bastard. He nodded to me on his way out, heading down the hall to the empty room toward the back.
“What was that about?” Josh asked, getting to his feet and shutting the door to his room. If I assumed our little meeting was over, I’d have been mistaken.
I shrugged, pretending like I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Huh?”
“Come on, Dallas. How long have I known you?” He chuckled, retaking his chair and giving me a look as he kept his voice low. “Usually I can’t get you to shut up, and yet you barely said two words to the guy.”
“Didn’t realize I needed to,” I answered. Besides, anything I was going to say wouldn’t have been complimentary, and I’d already given Josh my word I’d be nice to the guy.
But if I was trying to be slick, Josh wasn’t buying it. “Be nice.”
“Yeah, yeah. We done, or do you want a commitment I’m going to let him sit with us at lunch and be his best friend?” I laughed, because Josh cared waaaaaay too much about people’s feelings.
“Get out of here, moron.” He shook his head with a grin. “And for the record, it wouldn’t kill you to show him around. Maybe even take him out for a drink to meet some people considering he’s new in town. I would do it myself but . . .”
He didn’t need to finish, his lack of time pretty fucking obvious since he had a woman at home he was intending to give his last name to. Besides, even when he was single, he was never as good at the social interactions as I was. I was a legend, able to make almost anything turn into a good time. And when it came to meeting people, they flocked to me like I was Jesus turning water into wine. Guess that was just my cross to bear.
“I’ll take care of it,” I offered, hoping it wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “See how awesome a wingman I am? You should give me a raise.”
He laughed, whatever concern he had easing out of his face. “I already pay you more than I should. Let’s just say you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Well that doesn’t sound like me at all.” I screwed up my face in disgust. “Let’s just agree it’s an early wedding present instead.”
Josh gave me a nod and a smile. “Whatever it takes. And for what it’s worth, thanks.”
“Stop with the gratitude. It’s making me feel weird.” I shivered, not used to being on the receiving end of Josh’s thank yous.
And with another laugh he smacked me across the shoulder and then started to get ready for his next client. He was good like that, stopping before it got weird. It was my cue too, stepping out of his room and heading back to my own.
Guess the week was going to be more interesting than I’d anticipated. Not necessarily a bad thing. I still hadn’t worked out what Mason’s angle was, but getting close to him would serve a dual purpose. No better way to get to know his intentions than to be all up in his business, and I could keep an eye on him too.
Besides, not even babysitting the new guy was going to ruin what had been an unbelievable strike of luck. When it came to living the best life, I was the number one contender.
Kitty
“SO YOU JUST CALLED JOSH? AND HE came?” Lani’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in case she wasn’t conveying enough shock.
“Well, I called him but he didn’t answer, so I had to call Dallas. But they ended up being together.” I shrugged, our lunchtime session used to explain why I was sporting faint bruising around one of my wrists. It had definitely been a poor choice not getting handcuffs with padding, but yanking at them when I realized I was stuck hadn’t done me any favors either.
Unlike me, Lani had a regular boyfriend. He was decent looking and seemed smitten, but when I saw them together I couldn’t help but yawn. I wasn’t even sure either of them were attracted to one another anymore—their relationship, the definition of boring. But she didn’t judge my lifestyle and consequent bad choices, so I thought it was fair I didn’t judge her ordinary ones. Some people got off on routine and stability, it was just a shame I wasn’t one of them.
“Eve isn’t weird about having her boyfriend around you . . . you know . . .” Her eyebrows rose as she whispered, “Alone?”
It had been one of my prior lapses in judgment that had brought Eve into my life. Or was it me into hers? Either way, our introduction had been far from conventional. Hard for anything to be conventional when you’re blowing what you thought was a cute, single guy from the office and he ends up being the boyfriend of someone else. I’d like to say it had been an isolated incident but unfortunately it wasn’t. At least it had been the first and only time with Oliver, nothing progressing further than the blowjob and some third base touching.
Still, I hadn’t intentionally pursued him. I would never get involved with a man who was in any sort of committed relationship. It just so happened that they didn’t feel the same way about me. Happy for me to be their mushroom—kept in the dark and fed bullshit.
“Thanks a lot, Lani,” I snapped, a little more than slightly annoyed. “You of all people should know that I would never try anything with someone else’s man. Especially not a friend.”
She had the decency to look apologetic, her hands reaching for me just as quickly as her mouth sought to explain. “Kitty, of course I know that. I trust you, we’re friends. But not everyone is as understanding, and I don’t want Eve to turn up on your doorstep one day with an icepick because she turned into a psycho territorial bitch.”
While Lani didn’t judge me, she judged others plenty. Namely rich women who came from privilege, which Eve happened to be. You’d never know from looking at Lani but she’d been dirt poor most of her life, and she’d sooner trust a drug dealer from the hood than a gallery owner who hailed from the Upper East Side.
“I wish you’d see that Eve isn’t like that. And just because she has money, she isn’t going to turn into a crazy bitch.” I was almost positive the two of them were never going to be able to be in a room together.
“Babe, if you want to be friends with her, that’s your own business. Just maybe next time you’re in trouble call Cameron.”
I laughed, unable to stop myself. She might be happily in love—or whatever she described her relationship to be—but Cameron wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted in an emergency. I mean, if I had an issue with my tax return or the IRS then he’d totally be my first port of call, but anything else . . . I’d take my chances solo.
“I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me. But thanks for the offer.” I shook my head, hoping my futur
e wouldn’t involve instances where I required anyone’s help. Besides, Dallas and I had our newly minted agreement, which I was positive was going to keep me too busy to get into any real trouble.
She shrugged and turned her attention back to her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully as she listened to how attentive Dallas had been in bringing me pie. I didn’t bother to tell her that we had decided to team up and be the ultimate dating deciphering duo. Considering we only had a little time left before both of us needed to be back in our offices, I figured eating lunch was probably more important.
“Hey, you’re still going to O’Shea’s dinner tomorrow night, right?” I asked, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind and decided to spend a fun evening doing a crossword puzzle with Cameron instead.
She groaned, taking a sip from her soda. “Of course I’m going, he’s my boss. I think these teambuilding dinners at his house are less about morale and more about showing off his fancy penthouse.” She rolled her eyes. “If I had a choice, I’d totally get out of it.”
O’Shea wasn’t my boss, but invited me and the other EAs all the same. Not because he gave a shit about any of us, but because he had a massive chip on his shoulder and wanted to piss off the other executives. Show how much more fun he was, how much he “cared” for his staff and was one of them. I went along because he didn’t scrimp on the catering and it kept me up to date on office gossip. Nothing loosened lips faster than an open bar, and O’Shea was legendary for his free-flowing liquor. My boss had never asked me to be the inside man—or woman as was the case—but made it very clear that he appreciated my reconnaissance missions. And again, the food was usually really good.
“We can Uber if you want, you can crash at my place,” I offered, my lack of a car making the option of being a designated driver impossible.
It just didn’t seem practical to waste money on a car when I worked in Manhattan. Besides, I preferred to spend my money on things other than parking garages.