The Rules of Dating(11)

“I have no idea how you’ve worn it this long,” Billie said.

After I shed a layer, Billie went to sit in her tattoo chair. I sat in the one across from her. “So, how did you get into tattooing?” I asked.

“I was showing a few pieces of my art at a gallery when I was eighteen, and a tatted guy bought one of my pieces. He asked me about my plans for the future, and when I said I wasn’t sure, he asked if I was squeamish. I said no, and he gave me his business card and told me to drop by. He said he would let me shadow him, if I wanted, to see if tattooing might be something I was interested in.”

She smiled. “My mother was so pissed. She owns the gallery and was trying to push me to go to college to be a curator like her. Honestly, that’s probably why I stopped by the guy’s tattoo parlor the next day. My favorite pastime as a teenager was riling up my mother. I still kind of enjoy it, actually… Anyway, I was mesmerized by the colorful work Devin did, and within a month, I’d started working as a receptionist for him so I could learn the business. Eventually he let me train under him as an apprentice.”

“That’s pretty cool. So you were basically discovered?”

“I never thought of it that way.” She laughed and shrugged. “But I guess so. Although my mother would say Devin hired me to look at my ass, not because I had any talent.”

I frowned. “That’s not very encouraging. Was there a reason she thought that? Like, did the guy ever hit on you?”

Billie shook her head. “Absolutely not. Devin’s like a father to me. And he’s been happily married as many years as I’ve been alive. My mother just hates what I do for a living.”

“Why?”

“Because she doesn’t consider it art. Only paintings that hang in a gallery and sell for six figures are worthy of Renee Holland’s time. She calls my work ‘a waste of talent drawing obscenities’.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’d rather look at your art book than walk around MOMA any day of the week.”

She smiled. “Thank you. She’s been bugging me to show some of my art at an exhibit she’s planning. It’s sort of a good opportunity, because there will be a lot of reviewers from magazines that people who like my kind of art read. But I’m not sure I want to do it, because I hate the thought of owing her anything.”

“You know the old saying, ‘don’t cut off your nose to spite your face’? Sometimes in life you just need to suck it up if it helps you get where you want to be.”

Billie was quiet a minute. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe I’ll think about it some more.”

Eventually, Owen showed up with the part I needed, but since he had to relieve my sitter in a few minutes, he couldn’t stay. Billie and I were once again alone.

“Alright. I’m going to go plug this baby in, and hopefully we’ll get the lights back on,” I told her.

“You go ahead.” Billie groaned. “I’m too hot to move.”

Ten minutes later, the lights flickered back on. When I turned around, Billie was lying back in her tattoo chair. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, exactly the way I’d pictured her in my dreams. And that sent my mind reeling about fucking her on the chair. I couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Umm…check me out much?” Billie laughed as she sat up.

“No, I wasn’t… I was just thinking about the wiring.”

She swung her legs up and hopped down. Smiling, she strutted toward me. “You are so full of shit.”

“I am not.”

She stood right in front of me and raised a brow. “Look into my eyes and tell me you weren’t just thinking some dirty thought about me.”

My gaze shifted back and forth between her eyes. I opened my mouth, and then closed it. Then I opened my mouth once again, but nothing came out.

Billie laughed. “It’s okay. You just have to own it when you get caught.” She ran a fingernail down my arm. “I mean, you didn’t notice me noticing all these muscles while you were busy looking at me. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d look like this under your stuffy dress shirts. But if you had caught me looking, I’d have owned it. There’s nothing wrong with appreciating someone’s physique. It’s just creepy when you lie about it.”

Well, if that’s how she feels… I looked down. Since she was so short and standing so close, I had a straight view of her phenomenal cleavage. I grinned. “In case you’re wondering, I’m looking. I admit it.”

Billie laughed again and shoved at my chest. “You’re such a dork. Now fix my AC before I die of heat exhaustion, Mr. Landlord.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A half hour later, I finally got the AC blowing cold air. I hated to leave, but I really needed to go make my daughter dinner. So I collected the tools and packed them into the toolbox. “I have to get upstairs and feed Saylor.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Thank you for coming to my rescue. The old landlord would’ve taken four days to return my call. I appreciate the fast response.”

“No problem. Why don’t I give you my cell number, just in case it gives you any more problems?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Billie handed me her phone, and I punched in my number and handed it back to her. “Well, have a good night.”