by T Gephart
“You were worried about me?” My voice rose about two octaves. His concern so incredibly sweet, I could barely stand it.
“Not so much worried.” He shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips. “I think you have demonstrated today that you can more than hold your own. But I didn’t want you agreeing to prove a point. I get the feeling proving a point is important to you.”
“Are you a fortune teller too?” I laughed, surprised how obviously transparent I was. “Yeah, I probably would have agreed even if I didn’t want to.” Too many memories of questionable decisions made on the other side of a dare flashed in my mind. “But I do want to, I can’t think of anything I want to do more than to do you.” Wait. That’s not what I meant to say. “I mean, watch you do . . . what you do. With you.” And now I was butchering the English language as well. “Crap, I mean. I want to do this.”
It was the best I could do. I blamed low blood sugar and the lone coffee I’d had hours ago as not being substantial enough to make me more articulate.
He let out a huge laugh, thankfully ignoring my lame ass verbal spillage. “Good. I’m glad. Now let’s get back out there before Dallas eats our food.”
It had been the best first day ever.
As promised, after lunch I followed Josh and Bob into the back room and watched as Josh worked.
Bob had been exactly as described. A large man, who was probably in his late forties, and who by the look of his colorful skin, had been through the process a few—or twenty—times before. He was funny and a little bit flirty but had no problem with me sitting in and spectating.
I couldn’t look away. My eyes following Josh’s hands to the point where I had completely zoned out. The rhythmic buzz of the machine and swipes of color lulling me into some kind of trance as I watched the image literally materialize. Depth, shadow, light. It was all there in brilliant color.
“You still with me?” Josh looked up, wiping away the residual ink with a rag.
“Yes, it’s fascinating.” I reassured him that, despite my mental vacation, everything was kosher. “Bob, you should see it. It’s really, really good.”
“That’s why I keep coming back.” Bob laughed, his head resting on his bent arm. “Although next time, I might make my appointment with you.” Flirty Bob shot me a wink.
“Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that.” I laughed, “Josh is the best, you should stick with him.” I neglected to mention that since my lapse in judgment where I’d considered tattooing Josh, my days of picking up a machine were over.
“Pity, you have nice hands.” Another flirty wink.
“You’re making me a little jealous, Bob.” Josh chuckled. “I thought we had something special and now you’re looking to replace me?”
“Sorry, bud. Your hands will do I guess if the lady’s aren’t on offer.”
“Wow, Bob. Cuts me deep.” Josh placed a gloved hand over his heart, pretending to sniff away a tear. “Real deep.”
And before I knew it, Josh was wiping the last of the excess ink off and spraying Bob’s skin. Once it was clean, he let Bob inspect his newest addition with a mirror and then affixed a bandage.
Bob—as I had been—was extremely impressed and was anxious to make another appointment in the new year for another piece. He again suggested I should do the next one, trying to convince me at least three more times while I processed his payment and booked him in for January. Little did he know when he came back, I’d be long gone.
“You need any help cleaning up?” I poked my head into Josh’s room, having flipped the closed sign on the shop door.
“Dallas still finishing up?” he snapped off his gloves, tossing them into the trash.
“Yeah, he has at least another hour.” I’d checked in on him on my way back to the rooms. “He said he’ll close for you when he is done.”
“Cool, well I guess you can go home then.” He stopped packing things away and smiled. “It’s Saturday night, I’m sure you have plans.”
“I can stay back longer if you need me,” I said a little too quickly. “I don’t mind. Today has been really fun.” While I was a little tired—my muscles aching from hanging the photos earlier—it had been such an amazing day. “It’s not a word I’d usually use to describe work.”
“That’s a big problem then.” He shook his head, his cerulean blue eyes flicking over to me. “You should enjoy it.”
I meant the gallery, not the work I did for myself. The job was intended to help me build connections in the art world and also give me a place to continue to learn. At least that was what I had told myself when I accepted the job there twelve months ago. Though it seemed more about sales than about art and it bored me to tears some days. But I didn’t want to seem like a quitter, which was why I turned up every day even though I was sure the last time my boss cracked a smile was in 1999.
“You’re right. I should.” Nod. “I do. It was a bad word choice.” Nod. “I think I’m just tired.” The words jumbled as they fell out of my mouth because I didn’t want to admit I actually did hate my regular job.
I think he knew I was full of shit but thankfully he didn’t say anything, his smile easy as he looked me over with those amazing blue eyes.
“Okay then, enjoy the rest of the weekend. We’re shut tomorrow and Monday, so back Tuesday?” He asked like he wasn’t sure I would.
“Yep. Tuesday sounds great.” I stretched my neck, my shoulders a little tight from sitting hunched over while I was watching him work. “Thanks, and have a good night.” I gave him a quick wave before heading back down the hall.
Grabbing my bag from behind the counter, I pulled open the glass door. I debated going back and saying a proper goodbye to Dallas but then decided against it. Josh’s words still rattled around in my head and I’m not sure why they made me feel uncomfortable.
That’s a big problem. You should enjoy it.
Why had it made me so edgy? I had a great job and I should love it. It could be so much worse. I was just annoyed at the situation. I had no idea why I was acting so ungrateful.
Shaking my head, and hopefully my mood, I stepped out onto the sidewalk.
He was right about one thing.
It was Saturday night, and it was the first time I’d been single in a long time. I might not be ready for another relationship, but a little fun never killed anyone. Besides, Oliver was probably screwing everything with a pulse by now. Not like us being together had stopped him. Kitty had probably been one of many. And maybe that’s what I needed. Go and be reckless for a change and have some casual sex to burn away some of this stupid sexual frustration. I’d never know unless I tried, right? And if there were a time to start, it would be now.
Yes. That was definitely the way to go.
I pulled out my phone and started dialing.
“Hey, Eve.” Heather answered almost instantly. “You hanging in there, doll? We’ve been worried about you.”
Heather, like the rest of my friends, had been concerned about my mental state. They’d taken turns to check on me, making sure I hadn’t gone Tarantino and Kill Bill’d every asshole who’d written a bad review. It wasn’t a stretch to be honest, and if not for Kitty’s intervention I’d probably be wielding a sword across Manhattan. Not a yellow jumpsuit, though, because yellow wasn’t in my color wheel.
I hadn’t bothered to tell her or the rest of our friends about my new job, the news probably enough to confirm I had gone off the rails. But as my situation wasn’t going to be changing anytime soon, I should probably fill them in about my committing to working for Josh. That was a conversation that needed to happen in person, and hopefully somewhere there was a lot of alcohol. So why not kill two birds with one stone.
“Doing great, Heather.” I put on my best smile, hoping it would translate into my voice. “I need you and the girls to meet me at a bar in a couple of hours. I just need to get home and change, but I’ll text you the details.”
“A bar? You sure you’re up for that?” Heather’s v
oice dipped with concern. “We can have a quiet night in if you’d like? I’ll make my famous cocktails.”
“Thanks, Heather, but I want to go out.” I wasn’t going to find a sexy man distraction underneath someone’s couch. No, we needed to outsource that search, so bar it was. “I’ll explain everything when I see you.”
Saying a quick goodbye before Heather could ask any more questions, I ended the call and hailed a cab. A cab, which was ridiculous considering I had a shiny red Tesla sitting in my undercover garage.
Ugh.
I should probably sell that car or start driving it more, I didn’t want to live with any regrets even if they were minor.
Okay, I needed to get my head in the game and stop acting like a fruit loop. But tonight I was going to blow off some major steam. And screw regrets.
Eve
“SO, HOW DO YOU KNOW EVE?” LANA shouted to Kitty over the music, sipping on the straw of her cocktail.
“She works with Oliver,” I answered, even though the question hadn’t been directed at me. “We shared some mutual interests. She’s an art lover.” I winked at Kitty, her invitation to join my night out came soon after Heather’s.
“Well, Kitty, it’s nice of you to join us.” Heather managed a stiff smile while she shuffled out of time to the music. It was a poor attempt at dancing but we loved her too much to tell her to stop. “I’m just surprised we haven’t met you before.”
“I’m from Queens,” Kitty yelled over the music. “I don’t come into the city much outside of work.”
“Oh my God, these drinks are good.” Kristen pulled the glass from her lips. “I don’t even know what this thing is called but the bartender keeps giving them to me.” She leaned in, lowering her voice as much as the surrounding noise allowed and still be heard. “And I think the bartender is flirting with me or something because I haven’t paid for one of these glasses of deliciousness yet.” She smiled proudly, turning and giving the bartender in question a cute wave.
“He’s not flirting with you, silly.” Heather laughed, taking a sip from her drink. “Eve has her card at the bar and is running a tab.”
Bar 53 was a swanky bar in Midtown and the destination for our little get together. It was just popular enough that the place was always packed, but not so much that we needed to wait in line. Besides, Heather’s brother was dating the promotions manager which meant even if it got busy, we were always waved through. It helped having friends in high places. And on a night like tonight I didn’t want to wait on the street.
“Don’t be jealous, Heather.” Kristen ignored her while taking another sip of her drink. “I know flirting when I see it.” She nodded to the bartender who unsurprisingly winked back. I was guessing it might have been the tips she was slipping him after each drink, and we were at least five cocktails in.
“So, Kitty.” Lana tugged lightly on her arm ignoring Heather and Kristen. “You need to tell us. Is Oliver miserable without Eve?”
“Ugh. I don’t want to talk about him.” I downed what was left in my glass and signaled to the bartender I wanted another. The drinks weren’t cheap but they kept them coming. It was a fair trade and one I would happily pay for. “I’m so done with him.”
Heather, Lana and Kristen had gotten the edited version of our break-up. Oliver was a cheating manwhore who needed to go, and therefore I sent him packing. It was all the important parts anyway.
We had successfully avoided all talk of me and Oliver for the initial part of the evening. Kristen’s tale of being pulled over by the hot State Trooper on the interstate had given me a small reprieve but I assumed it was only a matter of time before they asked. It seemed that time had arrived.
“How can you just be done with him?” Lana asked, not willing to accept I’d already moved on. At least not without a full explanation, post mortem and flip chart on how was I planning to proceed from here on out. “You were together forever, you lived with him. Don’t you feel anything?”
“I’m soulless, didn’t you read the review?” I laughed reaching across the bar and getting another drink. Amazing how after a few drinks and used in a different context, those words lost some of their sting. “Rather convenient in times like these.”
“She Icy Hot’d his underwear.” Kitty cleared her throat, giving me a secretive smile. “I overheard Oliver telling one of the guys from work. Said his balls were still on fire, and he was worried his dick might be broken.” She threw her head back and laughed. “He had to take a day off sick to go to the emergency room, he thought he was going to die.”
“Oh my God!” Kristen smacked me across the arm, my drink sloshing all over Heather. “You Icy Hot’d his underwear? Girl, I am never pissing you off.”
“I cannot confirm or deny such a thing.” I sipped what was left in my glass. “But maybe he should be more selective on where he puts his penis and bad things won’t happen to it.”
“It’s really not that impressive either, I’ve seen way better.” Kitty shrugged as four pairs of eyes whipped around and landed directly on her.
Seriously, if they’d been lasers, she would have been incinerated.
Choruses of “What?” “Whoa?” that filled the air were joined by “But he’s so tall, how can he not be huge?”
The last one was from Kristen.
We were probably going to need to cut her off.
“Shit. Sorry.” Kitty bit her lip realizing her faux pas. “You’ve just been so cool about it, I keep forgetting.”
Ugh.
Maybe we needed to cut everyone off.
“It’s fine, Kitty.” I sighed, the abbreviated version of how I knew Kitty no longer sufficient. “So.” My fingers twisted the stem of my now empty glass. Well that sucked, this was exactly the conversation that needed a drink. “Kitty works with Oliver but was also working over Oliver when we first met.” I giggled, the ridiculousness of it all seeming so funny. Maybe it was the cocktails. “But it’s fine, we’re fine.” I extended my arms and twirled. “Everyone’s fine.”
“Except for Oliver’s penis, apparently.” Kitty laughed, the two of us the only ones who seemed to find the situation amusing.
“Kitty blew Oliver and you’re okay with it?” Heather’s extra thick mascara’d eyes widened to maximum capacity. “Eve, I love you, honey, but I think we have to accept the very real possibility you may have had a psychological episode.”
“See, here’s the thing.” I tried to make sure I didn’t slur my words, needing the important stuff to come out clear. “I don’t think I really loved him. We were together so long, I think it was just a convenience thing.”
Heather rubbed my arm, the conversation sobering me as I went on. “Like it was expected we’d get married, he’d fill my uterus and we’d grow old and boring. It is a little depressing when I think about it, that I would have just stayed and been content.” I shrugged wondering if maybe my passion wasn’t just lacking in my artwork. Maybe it had been lost in me too.
“He left the gallery early the night of my exhibit, and I didn’t really care.” I vividly remembered kissing him goodbye, waving him off and enjoying my night without him. “I should have cared that he wasn’t there and he should have wanted to be. Yeah, he cheated, but I think he did us both a favor.”
“We need more drinks,” Kristen helpfully added.
“Lots more.” This time from Lana.
“Yes, more drinks.” I waved to our favorite bartender, signaling we needed another round. “And then I’ll tell you about my new job at a tattoo studio in Queens.”
“How hot is this guy? Did he take off his shirt?” Kristen was asking all the important questions.
“Soooooo hot.” Kitty fanned herself. “He’s got the most amazing smile and his eyes are so blue, they don’t look real.”
My concern about telling my friends about my recent career change was a non-issue. While there had been some initial concerns about my mental well being—to be fair, I’d had some myself—the more I spoke, the more they a
greed.
I needed to shake things up, find my zen or something, and if a hot tattooist in Queens could help me find my mojo, what was the harm. Besides, women with money weren’t as conservative as most people thought. The higher their bank account, the crazier they usually were. Heather just assumed I was finally embracing my net worth. It was no secret that my trust fund was in stratosphere territory.
“You never answered if he took off his shirt.” Lana leaned back against the chair, her tongue fighting to grab the straw as it swirled in her drink.
We’d moved our drunken party of five to a booth when one became available; wisely deciding that remaining vertical was going to pose a challenge. It also meant we got table service too, which was handy, the drinks seeming to appear like magic. I was really going to have a headache tomorrow.
“He has not removed his shirt.” I swished my hand through the air, the admission slightly disappointing. “Sadly, there really isn’t a need for him to strip down so I doubt I’ll ever get to see.”
“And you’re not having hot rebound sex with this guy, why?” Heather asked, solidly on Team Josh.
I held up my hand and listed the reasons on each finger.
“Because he’s my boss. And if there’s a chance he can help me I don’t want to screw this up. And he’s probably not into me. And he’s my boss.”
“Not great reasons if you ask me.” Kitty’s head rolled loosely to the side. “I bet his penis isn’t disappointing.”
“We need to stop talking about him,” I droned, my head falling into my hands. “I need to find someone else to lust over, at least for tonight.”
“And have hot rebound sex with,” Heather added, in case there was any doubt.
“Yes and that.” I scanned the club looking for a suitable and willing victim, my search so far being fruitless. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone to have casual, emotionless sex with? I needed to get more serious about my efforts.