Unleashed (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (161 page)

“Your foot, please.”

A little embarrassed, I lift my foot into her hand, and she holds it and pulls my toes down flat, and then peers at my tattoo.

“Your hand must be steady, especially since it hurts on the foot, and since you did this upside-down.”

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t reply.

“You are skilled with curved lines – they are smooth. These are vines?”

“Well, in my mind they were kind of like beanstalks.”

“But they are not straight?”

I shrug. “I started off with them straight, but after drawing and redrawing the design, realized I liked them more vine-like, tangled.”

She sets my foot down, and I slip it back into my shoe.

“It’s impressive for someone so young. Most people don’t start getting into practicing body art until their mid-twenties, sometimes older. You’ve got a good hand, and a good eye. I can see that from your drawings.” She gestures gently at my portfolio that’s in her hands.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I feel my heart quicken with excitement, anticipation.

“But being a tattoo artist is not the same as being, simply, good at drawing. Tell me, what other skills are vital?”

“An excellent knowledge of the health-related ramifications of getting and giving tattoos,” I say. “And also effective communication. Nothing is worse than a tattoo artist who cannot communicate with her client.”

She just stares at me, as though she’s expecting more.

“Um,” I stall, buying time. “Mental discipline. Tattoo sessions can often go on for hours, and an artist must not only know how to concentrate and not get distracted, but must also know her own limits.”

“And that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Tina says, slapping my portfolio shut. “I like your style, but I must say I see a little of my own in it.”

“I’ve been following your work since I was fifteen,” I say. “On your website, on tattoo message boards, and social network groups.”

“I see. And where are you living now?”

“Near St. Kilda.”

“Ah, so just down the road?”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning. “I walked here today.”

“Don’t walk home at night if you can avoid it,” she says. “Especially on weekends.”

I hold my breath. “Does this mean that, I, uh—”

“Yes, Penelope. Bring the license form tomorrow morning so I can sign it. I’m normally in the shop at eight, but you’ll now be opening up for me, so I expect you to be here at seven-thirty.”

I nod enthusiastically, but she sees the confusion on my face. Tattoo shops don’t usually open so early.

“I run an online business,” she says. “I sell temporary tattoos, and various paraphernalia. Some accessories, too, like rings, earrings, broaches, pins, badges, that kind of thing.” She waves her hand carelessly, but I’m just even more impressed.

“That’s amazing,” I say. “So you’re like a total one-woman show.”

For the first time, she smiles. “Not anymore, I guess. I’ll be handing off some of those duties to you. Pay will be minimum wage, and I expect to only give you two days off a week. Also, you must work weekends and all holidays.”

“That’s fine with me.” I’m squeeing on the inside, but trying to keep my composure on the outside.

“Good. See you tomorrow then.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Azume.”

“It’s just Tina.”

“Thanks, Tina.”

“I have a client coming tomorrow,” she says as I’m about to leave. “It’s a work in progress. I’ll be doing some filling in, going over some outlining. It’s quite expansive on the lower half of his body. He will be nude from the waist-down. I expect you to study me as I administer the tattoo. Will that be a problem?”

“I can handle that,” I say.

“He can be a bit… rude. I’ll try and control him, but really, I don’t think I’ll be very successful.”

“What do you mean ‘rude’?”

“I mean,” she says. “That sometimes women find him difficult. I expect, since you’ll be at my side and watching me, he’ll make a crude joke or two.”

I swallow. “I can handle it.”

She considers me for a moment, but then smiles. “Okay, then,” she says. “Seven-thirty tomorrow morning. Here’s a key, open up the shutters, and let yourself in. There’s no alarm.” She waves her hand. “Nothing to steal, and I’d rather not pay the fee. Once you’re in here, I want you to walk around, get a feel for the table, the chair, everything. Otherwise, simply amuse yourself
without
touching anything, and wait for me to arrive. Understood, Penelope?”

“Yes!” I say, taking the set of keys. Despite Tina’s somewhat harsh tone, I’m over the moon. If I wasn’t so hung-over, I’d be bouncing on my toes right now.

When I get outside, I try to shake the trembling out of my hands, and I bite on my finger so as not to scream.

I can’t believe I’m going to be apprenticing for my favorite artist!

Everything is just going so perfectly so far.

I just took the first step toward my dream career. How many people can honestly say that?