Do Me Right (4 page)

"It's personal," she said, settling at the table in the back room to eat her lunch.

He turned a chair around and straddled it. "That was obvious. How personal?"

"None of your business. Shouldn't you be up front, in case anyone comes in?"

"We can hear the bells from here." He rested his chin on his folded arms and studied her. "If you ask me, it's about time you hooked up with somebody. I don't think you were cut out to be a nun."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that ever since Zach left, you haven't been in a very good mood. Getting laid might be just the thing to cheer you up."

She glared at him. "Who asked you?"

He laughed. "Hey, it always works for me."

"
Some
of us don't get off on sleeping around like a stray dog, okay?"

He preened, running a hand through his spiky bleached-blond hair. "Can I help it if women find me irresistible?"

She took a long drink of Coke and shook her head. "Some women have no taste."

"So tell me about this new employee you hired. Guy or gal?"

Grateful for the change in subject, she relaxed a little. "Female. She's a music major at UT."

"A musician who knows tattoos?" He grinned. "Does she play in a band?"

"I have no idea. Apparently her mom and dad have a shop in Denver. She grew up in the business."

"I can't wait to meet her. When does she start?"

"This afternoon."

He started to get up, but she leaned forward and grabbed his arm, squeezing hard. "Scott?"

"What?" Worry lines stood out on his high forehead.

"No hitting on the help, okay?"

"Just a little flirting...."

"Not if she's not interested in flirting back. That's sexual harassment and it could get us both sued."

She released him and he leaned back, rubbing his arm. "I won't do anything stupid," he said huffily. He shoved back the chair and left the room.

She contemplated her half-eaten sandwich. Of course Scott would do something stupid. He couldn't help it. When a man's hormones took over, his brain stopped working. Simple as that.

She was one to talk though. She'd just agreed to what was probably a stupid idea. A fun fling with a cowboy stud. It sounded good on the surface, but who knew where that kind of thing could lead? Hadn't Zach and Jen's relationship started the same way?

At least theirs had worked out okay. She didn't have that kind of luck with men. For one thing, she wasn't the soft, girlie-girl type they seemed to prefer. Even the biker dudes she'd spent time with had accused her of being too tough. The last guy she'd spent more than one night with had said she was too bossy. Which maybe was true, but he'd liked it enough in the beginning.

That was a man for you. Not consistent. When she'd been younger and more naive, she hadn't known that and it had gotten her into trouble. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

The bell on the door sounded. She didn't have an appointment until two, but maybe the customer was early. In any case, she'd lost her appetite for lunch. She wrapped up the rest of the sandwich and stashed it in the refrigerator, then went up front.

She found Scott talking with a petite girl with short red hair. She wore a long, flowing sundress and sandals, and had no visible piercings other than two studs in each ear. A sun-and-moon tattoo adorned her left shoulder.

"What's your name?" Scott was asking when Theresa joined them.

"Cherry. Cherry Donovan."

Scott's eyes lit up. "Cherry. Nice name."

She scowled at him. "No cracks about the name, okay?"

He held up both hands. His innocent expression wouldn't have fooled his grandmother. "Hey, I didn't say anything."

Cherry glanced at Theresa and rolled her eyes. "You thought it. Men always do."

Scott looked to Theresa for help. She held out her hand. "Hi, Cherry, good to see you again."

"Hey, Theresa. I'm a little early, but my class this afternoon was canceled, so I thought I'd come on by and spend a little time getting to know the place."

Cherry had a pretty smile and a vulnerable, elfin quality. Theresa felt like an Amazon. But the girl couldn't very well help that she was short, could she? "We're glad to have you here," she said. "I see you've already met Scott."

"So you're the new part-timer?" He grinned and stuck out his hand. "I'm Scott."

"That's what she just said." Cherry touched his hand briefly, then deftly moved away. Scott's face fell.

Theresa turned her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing. So much for Mr. Suave's chances with his new co-worker. Cherry was obviously less than impressed. "You pretty much saw everything when you interviewed, but I'll refresh your memory," Theresa said. She scooped up the cat that had been weaving around her boots. "This is Delilah. The other one, Mick, is around here somewhere."

"I remember." Cherry scratched underneath the cat's chin. Delilah rewarded her with a rumbling purr. Theresa handed her the animal and led the way to the workbench and storage cabinets. "Over here is where we keep all the tattooing supplies."

"I have my own machine," Cherry said. "A graduation gift from my folks."

Scott joined them. "I hear you're a musician." So much for thinking he was crushed. Theresa should have known better.

Cherry scarcely looked at him. "I'm a music major, yeah."

"I used to play in a band myself." He puffed out his chest.

Theresa figured if she bit down on the inside of her cheek any harder, she'd draw blood. Cherry gave him a scornful look. "I don't play in a
band
. I perform with the school symphony. Cello."

Scott looked so disappointed, Theresa almost felt sorry for him. Almost. "Evenings and weekends, when you'll be working, are our prime time for walk-ins," she said. "They'll keep you busy until you get your own clients." At least she hoped so. With the picketers refusing to give up, walk-in traffic had been slow lately.

"I can do piercings, too," she offered.

"I usually handle the piercings," Scott said.

Cherry shrugged. "I'm just saying I can do them, too."

"I'm sure there won't be a problem dividing up the work." Theresa gave Scott a hard look.
At least there'd better not be.

He shrugged. "Sure."

He retreated to the front counter, probably to sulk. Theresa guessed she could live with that if it kept him quiet. She turned to Cherry again. "When you get a chance, make some copies of your portfolio so we can display them for the customers."

"Sure thing. And I thought I'd print up some business cards to hand out around campus and stuff--if that's okay with you."

"Of course it's okay. And I'll cover the cost of the cards." She'd been about to suggest as much, but the girl got ahead of her. She'd have to be on her toes with this kid. "Come on in back and I'll show you where to put your things and we'll go over the operation of the autoclave."

Cherry deposited the cat on the floor and followed Theresa to the storage closet that served as headquarters for the sterilization equipment. "It's the same kind my mom and dad have," she said when Theresa opened the door.

"So I guess you really did grow up in the business," Theresa said, impressed but not wanting to show it too much.

"I started apprenticing when I was a teenager and I'd work summers and holidays for extra money. It's interesting work, but music's really where I want to make my career." Her expression turned sheepish. "I hope it's okay for me to say that. I like to be up-front with people."

"I appreciate that." It was a little scary how together this chick was. Theresa knew there was no way she'd been this calm and confident at Cherry's age. "Why don't we go back up front?"

Scott was still sulking behind the counter. "Why don't you show Cherry how to get into the computer," Theresa said. She turned to Cherry. "We're trying to get all the scheduling and ordering and things like that computerized, but we're not there yet."

She nodded. "My parents are technophobes, too. I keep telling them to join the twenty-first century, but they don't get it."

Now Theresa felt like an Amazon
crone
. She was only seven years older than Elf Girl, but it might as well have been twenty. "Scott's doing a good job of getting us on track," she said. "He can explain the system to you."

"Yeah, sure." He moved over to make room for Cherry in front of the computer.

Ten minutes later, as she was prepping her two o'clock customer--a truck driver named Alan--Theresa congratulated herself on her smooth handling of the potential conflict between Scott and Cherry. The two were both bent over the computer, engrossed in talk of databases, spreadsheets and operating systems.

She'd just started outlining a wolf's head on Alan's ankle when the door bells sounded again and a woman in a pink smock took a hesitant step inside. "Uh, I'm looking for a Miss Theresa Jacobs," she said.

Theresa shut off the tattoo machine. "That's me."

"Oh! Then I do have the right place." Eyes wide, the woman stared around the room.

"Can I help you?" Theresa prompted.

"Oh! Yes. Just a minute. I'll be right back." She exited again, the temple bells jangling in her wake.

"Something tells me she didn't stop by for a tat," the man in the chair said.

"Sorry about the interruption," Theresa apologized.

He shrugged. "I'm not in any hurry."

The woman reappeared in the doorway, her face almost hidden by a large arrangement of yellow roses in a glass vase. "Where should I put these?" she asked.

Theresa's mouth dropped open. After a stunned silence, she managed to speak. "Why are you bringing those in here?"

"You said you were Theresa Jacobs, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"These flowers are for you." She set the arrangement on the front counter and pointed to the tiny emblem on the left breast pocket of her smock. "From Pecan Street Florists."

"Why is a florist's shop sending me flowers?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, they're not from us. We're just delivering them. There's a card on the arrangement." Her gaze shifted to the man in the chair, and her eyes widened again as she zeroed in on the beginnings of the tattoo there. "I've always wondered--doesn't that hurt?"

"Not much." He grinned. "You ought to try it sometime."

The delivery woman blushed. "I don't think... At least, I never..." She shook her head. "I have to go now. Enjoy your flowers."

When she was gone, they all stared at the roses. There had to be at least a dozen of them, a soft yellow with a blush of pink at the tips of the petals, baby's breath and greenery arranged around them. "They're gorgeous," Cherry said.

"Aren't you going to check the card?" Scott said.

"Maybe later." She switched on the tattoo machine again. In all her twenty-eight years, no one had
ever
sent her flowers. She wasn't sure how to act.

"Oh, go on, check the card," her customer said. "I'm curious now, too."

Reluctantly she shut off the machine and stripped off her gloves, then walked up to the counter.

Up close, the arrangement was even prettier. She wanted to bury her nose amid the buds and see if they smelled like anything. She wanted to feel the petals and see if they were as velvety soft as they looked. But she didn't want to look like a fool in front of everyone, so all she did was reach up and snatch the card from its holder.

The envelope was unsealed, and the card inside was a simple white one. "I'm looking forward to tonight. Kyle."

"Ooooh, you're blushing!" Cherry squealed. She elbowed Scott in the ribs. "It must be good."

"I'll bet it's from that cowboy." Scott leaned over the counter and looked at her around the flowers. "Isn't it?"

"What cowboy?" Cherry asked.

Theresa hated that she was blushing. She wasn't the kind of woman who blushed. But then, she wasn't the kind of woman men sent flowers to, either. She tucked the card inside her top, away from prying eyes. "I suggest we all get back to work," she said and walked briskly back to her customer.

"It is your birthday or something?" he asked.

She shook her head and put on a new pair of gloves. "No, it isn't."

He grinned. "Well, whoever sent you those, I'd say they have good taste."

Because the flowers he'd chosen were so pretty, or because he'd sent them to
her?
She didn't ask. "Why don't you just relax and we'll get started again." She told herself to focus on her work, to stop thinking about the flowers or Kyle Cameron. It was bad enough he'd thrown her for a loop with his kisses. What the hell did he think he was doing turning all romantic and sending her
flowers?