All the Pretty Lies (Pretty #1)(24)
Author: M. Leighton

“That sounds about right.”

“Well, I guess it won’t take me very long then.” It hurts to admit it, but I know when I’ve been beat. And I refuse to let this woman think I give a rat’s ass.

Even though I do.

“I wouldn’t count on it, sweetie. Hemi likes to mix business and pleasure. And he’s a hard one to resist.”

“Is that why you’re back?” I ask bluntly. When she jerks her head toward me, I smile again. “I mean, I’m sure he is hard to resist.”

“I don’t think I introduced myself, did I?” she muses, ignoring my question. “I’m Sasha. I’ll be filling in for a little while.”

I could hug Hemi when he walks through the front door. I’m not sure I could keep up pretenses for one more second. If that’s what I was even doing. Whatever it was, I feel sure she saw right through it.

“Sorry I’m late, Sloane,” Hemi says, heading straight for his cubby. “Come on back. I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes. She wants an original. Thought we’d work on it before she gets here.”

“Sounds good,” I say, standing and pushing my stool back out of the way. I glance down at Sasha. She’s eyeing Hemi. I’m wondering if she’s insulted that he didn’t acknowledge her. Just the thought of that makes my smile a little brighter. “Nice to meet you, Sasha.”

“You, too, sweetie. I’ll see you around. I’m not going anywhere.”

If I’d been inclined to think for even a fraction of a second that Sasha was no threat, I would’ve been wrong. But I was also wrong about not being able to compete with a girl like that. Not that Hemi coming in and ignoring her means anything—maybe he saw her before he left. It’s her reaction that gives me hope. Why would she feel the least bit threatened by me if there was no reason to be?

Is that crazy logic? I think to myself as I slide my purse under the counter where Hemi told me to put it.

Maybe. But it’s logic that makes me feel a little better about being here. And about my chances. So, flawed or not, I’ll take it.

Maybe Sasha doesn’t have this all wrapped up after all.

********

It’s been three weeks since I started sketching at The Ink Stain. Three weeks of being around Hemi. Three weeks of run-ins with Sasha. Three weeks of seeing whatever might have been blossoming between us…stall.

Tonight, I’m gonna try to kick it back into gear, though. Or at least see if there’s anything to kick back into gear. Sasha isn’t working, Hemi said the schedule is light and, if there aren’t a lot of walk-ins, he said he would work on finishing my tattoo. Just the thought of his hands on my body again…

Ohmigod!

It’s the first night I’ve been anxious to get to the studio since that very first one, the one that began a downward spiral of disappointing nights. But not tonight. Tonight it’ll just be me and Hemi. I’ll get to see where we stand and how he acts when Sasha isn’t around.

He doesn’t flirt with her even when I’m there. It’s more like he’s just grouchy yet polite. She takes it in stride. I’m sure she knows why he’s grouchy. After all, it didn’t start until she showed up. I don’t know what’s going on between those two, but it seems more like history and baggage than anything current.

Of course, that could be wishful thinking on my part, too.

Frick!

When I arrive, Hemi is waiting for me at the counter. “How would you feel about sketching out here for a little while? Maybe fielding anyone that comes in? I’ve got a client in back that I need to do some color touch-ups for.”

I try not to feel too deflated and I give him a smile. “That’s fine. Anything particular you want me to sketch?”

“Yes. The one that you drew on my side. I want you to sketch it out so we can make a stencil. I’ll be your first subject.”

My mouth falls open. “You’re joking, right?”

He smiles. For the first time in forever, it seems. “No, I’m not joking.”

“Tonight?”

“No. Tonight maybe I can finish yours.” Yes! “Maybe the next time you work you can start it.”

“Okay. If you’re fine with it then…”

I grab some paper from beneath the counter and scoot up onto the stationary stool that sits back there. Hemi starts to walk off, but then stops just this side of the doorway.

“Sloane,” he begins. When he doesn’t continue, I look up. He holds my eyes for several long seconds before he speaks. “Take it as a compliment. It means I trust you.”

“Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say.

Hemi winks at me and then disappears into the next room. One more time, like a stubborn phoenix that refuses to stay burned to ash, hope rises.

********

It’s finally time. Everyone is gone from the shop, clients and artists alike, and it’s just me and Hemi. Alone.

And he’s going to finish my tattoo.

I’m nervous. I don’t know why this feels like so much more than a tattoo. I guess, in my head, I’m giving him one last chance to show me he still wants me before I kill off any and all hope I had for us. And I’m praying he comes through.

“So, where do you want me?” I ask.

“Oh, right. Your butterflies. Ummm,” he murmurs, wrinkling his brow in thought. “How high do you want them to go?”

“Well, my last one is right here,” I say, pointing through my clothes to the area right at the lower edge of my bra strap. “I think maybe three or four more up to here.” I indicate the place just south of my arm pit. I know what I’m asking. The question is: Will Hemi?

“Okay, to go that high I’ll need you out of your clothes on that side. I can’t move straps and material aside to work up in there. It’ll crowd my hand.”

His tone is matter of fact. My stomach is not.

“And we want those hands free to work,” I tease. Hemi says nothing, but he raises that one pierced brow. A shiver runs through me. I clear my throat. “That’s fine. I can just take off my top and use a drape, if that’s all right with you.”

There’s a long pause before he says anything. “That’s fine. However you’re most comfortable.”

I nod and smile before I turn around and head for the dressing room. I take off my shirt and bra, and slip the loose-fitting drape over my head. It’s split up both sides so that it’s basically just a big flap that falls over my chest and back. I check my reflection, hoping that Hemi doesn’t make note of my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. I take a deep, calming breath before I open the door and make my way back to Hemi.