Brittle Heart (Memento Vivere Duet Book 1) by Blake Black

Author:Blake Black [Black, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-10T16:00:00+00:00

Xander

Carolina is in the final phase of sanitizing the tattoo station when I step out of my office, pulling on the spare black shirt I keep in there. She’s got gloves on and is doing a solid job.

“Did you learn to do that from watching me?” I ask, startling her as I stand behind her. “Sorry,” I quickly add, not meaning to scare her.

“I picked it up when you were doing mine.” She shrugs, but her attentiveness is impressive.

I glance at the clock, noting my client is due any minute. “Sorry, but we’ve gotta speed through the tasks I need you to handle before my appointment shows up,” I tell her.

“No problem.” She quickly removes her gloves, tossing them in the trash.

We get to the front, where I introduce her to the desktop computer. “The password’s CC0818. This is my calendar. If someone comes in looking for an appointment, you’ve gotta check here first to see if I’m free and then ask them what they want. I usually only do small tattoos on Saturdays, while larger pieces are reserved for Tuesday through Friday. Sundays and Mondays are my days off.” As I’m explaining, she fetches a notepad and pen from the counter to jot down notes.

“You know my style. If a design doesn’t match my aesthetic, I won’t tattoo it, and you can let them know right away. All else, it’s just about setting up an appointment. They have to send me their idea using the form on the website, and I’ll confirm the date and design later tonight after I’m done with my client.”

She gives me a nod. “Okay, got it.”

“If you have any questions or need me, come and ask,” I tell her. “But try to keep it to a minimum, as I’ll need to focus on this design today.”

“Understood,” she says, her face serious.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. She’s definitely taking this seriously.

I can manage things on my own. I’ve done it for years, mainly because I’m not great with people hanging around. They tend to bug me or get too loud for my liking. I prefer working in peace or with music playing. Yes, it’d be nice not to have to break my concentration to handle walk-ins or answer phone calls, but I’d take that any day over having someone who isn’t a client in my space.

When Clay mentioned the cream incident, I knew she’d never accept a free handout. I grew up poor and understand the feeling of having things just given to you. She wants to earn her way. I respect that. And the few times I’ve interacted with her, she’s been nice to be around.

The door dings, and my client comes in. He’s a big gym guy, almost as tall as me, and huge. His broad back will take hours to tattoo, and I’m pumped.

“Hey, X,” he greets, shaking my hand before pulling me into a hug and patting my back hard.

I have to hold my breath to stifle a grunt as pain flares up in my shoulder.

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