Looking for Trouble(19)
Dylan sat up straighter. “I will? Probably be working here, you mean?” Could he really get that lucky so quickly? That never happened to him.
“Yeah, I’ll check everything out today and give you a call tonight.”
Dylan had to restrain himself from jumping out of his seat and dancing. “Thank you. I just… I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Troy winked, but somehow Dylan could tell it wasn’t a flirtatious wink. It was one that said he could tell Dylan needed this…and that he wanted to help. He hated pity, but right now he needed a damn job.
“You’re welcome. I’ve always been one to trust my gut.” Troy reached out, and they shook hands. “It’ll be great to have you around, Dylan.”
When they let go, Dylan asked, “What about friends? Can you be friends with your employees?”
Troy pushed his hair off his forehead. “Yeah, yeah, I can.”
Dylan legit had a bounce in his step when he left the Dancing Unicorn. He stopped by a café and ordered cold sandwiches and chips to-go for him and Clay. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been with them earlier. He probably had a job, and he couldn’t wait to tell Clay. He hurried down the block.
Pushing open the door to the shop, he said, “Clay, guess what! Oh my God, you’re never going to believe how lucky I am!” only then looking over to see Clay wiping a man’s arm. Shit, shit, shit. So stupid of him to walk in like that, practically screaming, not considering the fact that Clay could be, ya know, working. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s okay. We’re done here,” Clay said as he continued to clean off the tattoo. Really, it wasn’t all right. What if he had actually been tattooing and Dylan had startled him?
Dylan watched him for a moment, fascinated with Clay in that setting. As the guy looked at the work in the mirror, Clay spoke with him about aftercare, giving him instructions. The tattoo was a set of small footprints, like a baby’s.
“Can I see?” Dylan asked, interested in Clay’s work.
“Sure, come on back,” Clay told him, and Dylan walked over. The skin around the tattoo was slightly red, but the artwork itself was beautiful. Every tiny detail of the little baby feet was there, and he was in awe of it.
“Wow…it’s beautiful.”
“My new baby girl,” the man said proudly, showing Dylan and Clay a photo on his phone.
Dylan waited as the two of them went to the register and the gentleman paid. When Clay finished, he came back and washed his hands. Dylan said, “That really was incredible. I don’t think it struck me before—what you do. It’s amazing. I could never do something like that.”
As Clay dried his hands, he looked over his shoulder at Dylan, frowning. “Yes, you could.”
Dylan waved him off, not wanting to get into it.
“I’m serious. You can—”
“Do anything if I set my mind to it?” Dylan cut him off. “You can save me the speech. I’ve heard it before, and it’s bullshit. It’s not possible for everyone to do anything if they try. We all have limits. That’s just a fact. Some people have more limits than others. I understand mine.”
The lines around Clay’s mouth wrinkled as his frown deepened. “I didn’t realize you were such a pessimist.”
“I’m a realist in some circumstances. It took me a while to see, but I do. And it’s fine. It is what it is. And yes, is there a chance I could maybe learn to tattoo if I was trained? I guess. But it’s also likely that I couldn’t. Not anyone can do anything. That’s my point.” Dylan had come to terms with that a long time ago. “Anyway, I brought you lunch to celebrate! Where should we eat?”
Clay pointed to the office, which gave the perfect view to the front of the shop. They went inside, leaving the door open, and each sat on one side of the desk.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got ham and cheese. I hope that’s okay. I can go back if you want something else.”
“What? No. I’m the least picky person you’ll ever meet, and even if I wasn’t, you did something nice. What kind of person would expect you to go back?”
Dylan just shrugged off his question. He didn’t see why it was a big deal.
“What are we celebrating?” Clay asked as Dylan handed him his food and drink.
“I got a job! Maybe…probably. Troy said he’d call tonight. It’s at the Dancing Unicorn. He’s gay or bi, by the way. I’m not sure if you know him or knew that. Gorgeous as hell too.”
When Clay didn’t answer, Dylan looked over at him, that damn frown even deeper still, set in stone on his face. “Oh my God. What now?”
“If he’s your boss, you can’t… I mean, you’re a grown man, but…”
“Relax, Sad Eyes. I know. But maybe after I quit and right before I leave.” Dylan winked at him, and Clay shook his head. “I’m kidding!” Kind of…or maybe he wasn’t. “Or I could leave him for you. Not a lot of options around here, it seems. No wonder you head into Raleigh to get laid. I’m telling you, you’d want to fuck Troy, though. I’m not sure if he and I would be compatible that way. I’m pretty sure he’s a bottom. Do you know him?” Clay was staring at him, wrinkles around his eyes now matching those around his mouth. Hello, Intense Eyes. What was his problem? “Wait. Are you not out?”