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“Yeah. Some people are worried it’ll bring the wrong sort of people to Kitchi Falls, but I think they’re out of their minds. As if people with tattoos are inherently bad.” She looked at my tattoo sleeve. “Clearly, I don’t agree with them.”
“Good to hear,” I said, frankly getting a little sick of all the people that had a problem with my shop but didn’t have the balls to say it to my face.
“When do you open?”
“Tomorrow,” I said. “Soft opening.”
“Are you taking appointments?”
“I am,” I said. “Only have a few this week since I didn’t hire anyone to help out yet and am giving myself extra time to work out the kinks.”
“You mean, like another tattoo artist?”
“Yeah, or even someone to work the front desk. I’m a one-man show for now.”
The woman looked to her left and right at the craft store filled to the gills with supplies. Surely they had transfer paper, but I wasn’t sure if she was actually planning to get it for me or not.
“Hire me.”
Had I heard her correctly?
“The owner here is a total dick,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking of quitting.”
“Wouldn’t hiring you leave him high and dry?” The last thing I wanted was someone who would walk out like that. If she did it here, she’d do it just as easily to me. Nate was fond of saying “a zebra doesn’t change his stripes,” and I couldn’t disagree.
“Well, I’d have to give him two weeks’ notice. But I’m only here part-time. I also attend a local community college, so I might be able to squeeze in a few hours at your place, too, in the meantime, just to get my feet wet.”
Good answer.
“What do you know about tattooing?”
“Exactly nothing.”
I laughed. “Perfect,” I said, kidding, obviously.
On the plus side, she had a welcoming personality, exactly what the shop would need. And she wouldn’t actually be doing any tattooing, but it would be helpful for her to learn.
“What’s your name?”
“Alex,” she said. “Davis.”
Alex. Charlee. What was it about Kitchi Falls that the women’s names were also men’s? Or maybe that was just the vibe I attracted. And there was no doubt about the fact that, though she was young, this woman was extremely attractive. And yet. . . nothing.
Fucking Charlee. She’d ruined me.
Which was precisely why my tastes in bed ran a bit on the. . . eccentric side. . . these days. Something to capture a thrill I needed that wasn’t always there otherwise.
“Can you come by this week?”
“I’m off here in an hour. I have a night class at six but can come over in between.”
She was ambitious too. Perfect.
“About that transfer paper. . .”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Yes, we do. Aisle five.”
Grabbing the paper, I checked out, glad to have come in rather than order more online and chance running out. Now I had a front desk clerk, even if she was part-time, which suited me just fine for the time being.
