Within the hour of her receiving the text message from Craig, inviting her into work that day for a mystery client, Sara nearly power stomped her way into the shop, her bag of tricks slung high over her shoulder, looking more like a Sharif from the old west than a five foot six (ten in heels) artist. She looked around the shop, removing the sunglasses from her face in a clean swoosh movement. Then finally, she grinned and beamed with pride. Not willing to let anyone see that she was the least bit defeated or even deflated by Craig’s actions against her and her career. Azzi gave a slyer grin when she watched Sara finally return to the shop.
“People have been asking for you.” Azzi stated in a clear tone as to make sure the whole shop heard it. She leaned in and whispered into her palm just for Sara to hear. “I gave them all your work email, they are still yours.” Azzi winked then went back to her new magazine. Something was clearly up at the shop. If Azzi knew, that means everyone knew.
“I’m happy to hear that.” Sara replied with a sigh pulling at her words. “Craig told me I had a client ‘ASAP’, and no one is here but Emilio’s client and Emilio. Where’s Craig?” She sighed again, this time in annoyance rather than relief. Azzi quickly looked back down to her magazine, and using her thumb to point the way she gestured to the door leading to the private work room. “And my client?” Azzi made the same gesture again. Sara nearly growled as she snatched her bag over her shoulder again. “I hope this…” She stopped, realizing now that Emilio’s client had been watching her nearly the entire time she had been in the shop this day.
“I will go see him in the back then.” She nodded and made her way to the back door. The dark letters of the plaque spelling out the word “PRIVATE” in an almost mistrustful kind of way. She put her hand on the handle and let the weight alone pull it down. The door clinked open and groaned as it kept moving, squealing on its hinges.
“I keep forgetting to pick up some WD-40.” Craig huffed, wiping down the table in the center of the room with sanitary wipes, being careful to get into every nook and cranny. “It almost scared off a girl just wanting her ears pierced. She thought something was going to get her.” He laughed, and again each tooth visibly sparkled. His shirt of the day was taut around his body. Each muscle that lay beneath the thin cotton fabric practically on display. His pants secured perfectly on his hip bones, low, but not obscenely low.
“How cute.” Sara forced a smile onto her face. “So where is this mystery client?”
Craig stood tall and shrugged his arms out wide, his hands falling quickly and slapped each thigh. “You’re looking at him.” He too smacked on the cheesiest grin his body could muster.
“I’m getting paid for this, right?” She cautiously set her bag and sunglasses down on the table off to the right hand side of the room usually reserved for the clients’ “audiences”. “You’re not expecting this to be pro-bono, are you?”
“No, I’m paying you full price for this even though you left work early the other night.” He grinned at her in a way that made it seem like he had her life in his hands at the moment over something as trivial as a couple hours of missed work. And it’s simple. When you’re done you can get a coffee and clock in to work the desk with Azzi or with walk-ins.”
Sara nodded back at him. “Alright, I can do that.” She slipped off her leather jacket and set it on her bag before taking a seat beside him. “What are you wanting?” She asked, looking over the inks he had already pulled out for her to use.
“It’s a design my friend sketched out that I was completely into, and he agreed to let me tattoo it on my leg. It’s simple, but I want clean lines, not just a bunch of shading everywhere. And I can’t reach the place I want it well enough.” Craig then proceeded to pull a paper out of his pocket. Barely more than three by three inches with a very rough pencil sketch made out in the middle, about the size of an old fifty-cent piece. It looked like an odd cross between a seven pointed star, a crescent moon, with strange writing in an old dead language around it also encompassed in another circle. Finally, around that were four strange symbols arranged at the compass points of the design.
“It’s quite interesting.” Sara nodded a bit, looking over the small doodle. “And you want it this big? Like, this big exactly?”
“NO, No, no. Clean it up and make it about four inches in diameter. I‘m getting it on my shoulder blade.” His eyes shouted out his excitement of getting a chance to be shirtless around her. “So clean it up, make it look pretty and I’m gonna go out for a bit of coffee. Want one?” He questioned with a ring of sincerity.
“Sure, I’d like one, please?” She gave him a small smile then moved to retrieve her notebook as he left to get their morning caffeine.
During his absence she redrew the little sketch into a full clean design, making a copy of it with transfer paper, and getting the set up ready to use by the time he returned. He came back through the screeching door moments later with a chuckle as he kicked it closed again. “I still hate that door. Blended Mocha?” He offered her the drink closest to her in the cardboard holder.
“Just the one I love.” She took it and immediately tried to tongue some of the whipped cream out through the hole in the dome lid. “Thanks very much.” She looked up to catch him already staring at her. Sara’s smile dropped immediately and she sipped at her mocha before setting it aside and washing her hands. “Shoulder blade. Take off your shirt and get comfortable.” She towel dried her hands, slipping on clean gloves as he made himself comfortable with his drink, phone, and wireless headset. “Right here?” She asked about the placement of the tattoo by drawing it out with her fingertip so he could feel the exact spot he was referring to.
“That would be just perfect Sara.” He checked over and agreed to her cleaned up design, and with that, she began.
Sara gently shaved the peach fuzz off of him and cleaned the skin with a fresh towel and skin cleanser. Craig shivered as some of the chilling liquid ran down his back, but followed it with a cheeky smile. She paid him no mind as she wet his skin and slowly laid the cut out transfer over his skin, spreading it down smooth with one finger. She watched it sit for a long moment before checking under the edge for strong blue lines. Once satisfied she peeled it up from his back with ease, checking it over to make sure she had all the lines, and filling in the ones that didn’t transfer completely with a fine felt tip pen.
“I picked out that red ink you love to use. I hope you don’t mind.” Craig chortled on as he placed his headphones over his ears.
“Of course not. I nearly have to order more of it.” She held the bottle up to the light, observing how low she had become.
“Has anyone used this the past few days?
“I did. I had to know what you loved about it so much. It’s actually quite lovely if I do say so myself.”
“Thanks.” She implied with a nearly inquisitive tone. “I can order you a bottle too if you pay me back.” She filled a tiny ink cup with the red, a black, and a couple shades of blue that Craig had also selected for a bit of background color. “I think this is going to turn out nicer than you imagined.” Sara loved to talk herself up before starting. A tactic that often works with nervous clients. But, when she got no response, she looked at him to find he had already started his music and couldn’t hear a damned thing she said. She shook her head and simply got to work.
Sara took her time with the outline, making sure every line was perfect. No one spot thicker than another unless the design demanded it to be so. Everything was clean, neat, and the best geometric lines she’d ever done. She smiled wide at her work, taking a small moment to stretch and get her machine ready for color. Once the needles were switched out she dipped them in her favorite red ink. Nearly the color of blood, it showed powerfully on all skin types from paper white to ebony. This ink was like magic. Sara leaned in, stretching Craig’s skin taut with one hand, she began to lay the red ink in between her lines. Carefully filling in the shape to look smooth and even, like pouring paint onto a flat surface. She made sure to watch every movement, her needles barely kissing the black line as she worked across the piece.
Craig himself was a pro at getting worked on. He zoned out into his music, more muttering along with it in practically unintelligible sounds rather than actually singing the song aloud like most clients who do this sort of thing would. He flipped through the internet on his phone, checking his social media pages, as well as the company email address making sure that any potential customers were being taken care of. Not a single flinch, cough, or sneeze. Tattooing him was as easy as painting on a statue. Barely an hour had passed by the time Sara was adding the finishing touches and making sure everything was the best it could be. She cleaned his skin with green soap and gave the whole thing a total triple check. If her test to come back was tattooing her boss, then she was dead set and determined to make sure it was the best work she’d ever done. With one last nod, she determined it to be an incontestable homerun.
“It’s done.” She tapped his leg and shook his calf to get his attention away from his phone. Craig pulled off his head phones and turned to look at her over his shoulder.
“You’re done?” He tried to crane his neck far enough to look at it without the use of a mirror or two, but to no success.
“Let me take a look at it then.” Craig hopped off the table, snatching a hand mirror off the counter as he walked to the full length mirror bolted up on the wall. He stood with his back to the floor length mirror and lifted the hand mirror, angling it so he could see the reflection of the tattoo. He grinned from ear to ear. The hint of a smirk hiding within his smile. “Sara, it’s completely wonderful.” Her heart leaped, she loved high praise. “It’s exactly what I wanted it to look like. Thank you.” He set the mirror down and took his place on the table so she could wrap it up for him. Sara stuck the wrap to his skin with masking tape then stood back and took another look at her latest work. She was proud, and her chin stood an extra inch taller for the moment.
“Damn I’m good.” Sara laughed as she began to clean and sanitize the work area for whoever was going to use it next. After wiping down her bottles of ink a few times, she placed them back on her shelves in her work area.
“How was it?” Azzi asked. Her eyes focused like laser beams on Sara. “Did he do anything strange?”
“No.” Sara giggled. “He just wanted me to do a tattoo for him. It was an original design by his friend, I guess, but it looks great as a tattoo. And now he has me working walk-ins, sooo…” Sara took her seat with her sketchbook and pencils to Azzi’s left at the welcome desk.
“At least you’re here. It’s been so boring without you to jack my jaw to.”
“You’ve always been one for gossip, Azzi. There’s no lie about that.” Sara smiled and opened up her sketchbook to the design she had begun for Gavin, Craig’s alleged friend. Pulling out a .5mm pencil and eraser, she got back to work perfecting the design for him, already imagining his reactions of shock, awe, and praise. Sara knew she was vein, but then again, so was everyone else in the world. “Damn.” She finally broke the silence of the room after a long moment of nothing but the soft hum of the speakers playing whatever song was popular at the moment. “I love pin-ups.” She reached up and added a couple of extra lines into the drawn figure’s hair.
“No kidding. They are so sexy.” Azzi leaned over her shoulder and took a long look at the drawing. “She’s going to look so good on skin, Sara.”
“Thank you, hun. I just hope he really likes it. I won’t take less than completely satisfied before I put this permanently on someone’s body.
“I know that.” She giggled as she leaned back into her own seat, looking at the stack of magazines in front of her, trying to pick out what to flip through next.
“You know, you can bring a book in with you. You don’t have to constantly sit here with a magazine.” Sara lightly elbowed her. “Reading books is good for the imagination.”
“Like I need a stronger imagination, cupcake.” Azzi smiled and picked up an older issue of Cosmo.
“Oh no, not at all.” She picked out a random article off the cover. “You just want to know ‘how to recycle your makeup brushes for use in the bedroom.’ I don’t even want to know what they mean by that.” Sara shuddered a bit then went back to her drawing.
Sara worked the desk for nearly seven hours before getting a customer who needed more than a consult and an appointment schedule. She had a grand total of two pieces done by the time she was supposed to clock out for the night. Other than Craig’s strange symbol, she also worked on a girl who had just turned eighteen, and wanted a little pink bunny on the top of her foot as a graduation present to herself.
Sara inked the lines using her favorite red, then filled it in with a mix of the same red and white, shading it carefully as to make it seem fluffy and soft to the touch. She also gave it baby green eyes like the client had herself, along with a little green “lettuce” leaf for it to hold. Her client was very pleased, jumping and clapping like a small circus seal once the piece was complete. She tipped well and even scheduled a consultation for the following week in regards to another tattoo she wanted. After that, Sara clocked out and went home to spend the evening with Alistair.
When she walked in through the front door, she was immediately greeted with a cupcake on a small saucer with one purple birthday candle stuck into the intensely blue frosting. The wax dripping into the folds of the piped confection.
“A congratulations on your day at work for not killing anyone!” Alistair blew into a party noise maker then dumped a handful of confetti on Sara’s head. “Now make a wish, Lass.”
Sara, already in a fit of laughter, made the first wish that came to her mind and blew out the candle. “How long were you standing there waiting?” She stepped out the door leaving it open before brushing as much of the confetti out of her hair and off of her shoulders as she could manage, doing her best not to let it get into the house, despite the small pile that was originally left behind.
“Just a moment really, but I had the confetti all day.” Alistair blew a little of it off the plate and watched it flutter to the carpeted floor. “If you want to vacuum that up, dinner is just about ready.”
“Of course, I’ll just clean up this mess that you’ve been planning on making all day.” She stepped back into the house and took off her jacket, shaking it off onto the floor. A sort of in for a penny, in for a pound kind of thing. “Work was fine, by the way. Craig was my first client.” She walked to the small closet door in their hallway between the kitchen and the living room, pulling the vacuum out and plugging it in near the front door.
“What did he have you do? Titties?” Alistair joked as he went about the kitchen trying to finish up dinner. “Or did he want a real tattoo?”
“Oh, it was a real tattoo. It was really strange.” Sara cleaned up the confetti that found its way everywhere in the living room as if my cursed magic. After putting the vacuum away, she went to the fridge and pulled out a soda, opening it then taking a seat at their dining table. She described the tattoo as best she could to Alistair between cold sips.
“Almost sounds cultish. Maybe from a videogame?”
Sara shook her head. “He said his friend drew it for him. It was cool, but just another tattoo if you ask me. It’s one of those things that only make sense to the person who got it.” She shrugged and took a large swig of her soda. Alistair set a plate in front of her consisting of baked chicken, peas, and a pasta salad. “Looks like you were busy cooking all day. It smells yummy.” She waited for him to sit too before digging into her well-earned meal. “Mmh, and you were right. I, in fact, did not kill him, or anyone else for that matter.” She smirked, drinking from her nearly empty soda can then continuing her meal.
“The night is still young.” He smirked at his plate while cutting into his meat. “You never know what might happen after dinner.” Alistair winked at her as he chomped down on his cut piece of chicken.
“Oh, I see.” She grinned at him, watching his movements closely. “I’m assuming that school went well today?” Her gaze unwavering, simply enjoying looking at him.
“Had a pop-quiz today.” Sara’s brow quirked. “I know, right? Who still does pop-quizzes other than Elementary teachers with a chip on their shoulder? Anyway, we had a pop-quiz on the differences between meiosis and mitosis. I got every single question correct.” He gave her a toothy smile before chomping down on another piece of chicken.
“You did the reading on it. I watched you study the shit out of that chapter. I can almost remember half of it.”
“Oh, can you really?” Sara paused and stared at him blankly.
“No. Not really. But you know what I meant.”
After dinner, Sara assisted Alistair in cleaning up the kitchen before retiring to the couch to watch a movie while wrapped around each other like two stuffed animals lined with Velcro. Another D-horror movie that was basically a straight-to-streaming kind of deal.
“How many ways can they tell a story about a shark? What’s next, ‘Attack of the Mighty Sharkactus’?”
“Sharkactus?” Sara raised her head from his chest, trying to figure out what they hell he was talking about.
“You know. A Sharkactus. Half shark, half cactus, one hundred percent bad-ass.” Sara nodded ever so slowly as she rested her head back on his chest.
“At least tomorrow is a real day off and not just a ‘Fuck you, Sara’ day.”
“Agreed. We can sleep in.”
“We always sleep in.” She corrected him, vibrating both their bodies with her giggles.
“Yes.” Alistair replied, “But this time we can sleep until three. I did the laundry already, so once it’s folded and put away, we don’t have any chores for tomorrow either.”
“Tomorrow is going to be nice then.” She snuggled down more, folding her arms between their torsos to keep her hands warm.
The night passed quietly. Both of them falling asleep on the couch, waking up at the crack of dawn just to climb the stairs and fall into bed after stripping down to their underwear. Thankful that the back out curtains did their job so well that the room remained pitch black even after noon. Sara fell back to sleep instantly as Alistair spooned her body and held her hand. His soft breathing in her ear acting like a white noise machine would. Keeping her mind calm and her body relaxed as she revisited dreamland for the second time that day.
