Page 2 of Breaking Through the Doubt (Espen Jetties #4)

2

COREY

The measured hum of tattoo guns came from different rooms of the shop. It was a sound that gave me comfort, knowing with each person who walked in the door and left with ink on their skin or jewelry in a new part of their body, the shop had finally become successful.

“What do you think?” I heard Emilio ask from the stall next to me.

I’d tried to make each section of the studio as private as possible without pushing everyone behind closed doors. I wanted people to see the art we did on skin, not only on the drawings in the lobby and in the windows.

His art always left me speechless. Emilio specialized in hyperrealistic tattoos, the ones that looked like a photograph was right there on the skin. I’d seen him do a snake that scared the living shit out of me. It had looked like it was ready to attack at any moment.

The customer’s excited response brought a smile to my face. When customers were that excited about their new work, word of mouth spread. And in this business, word of mouth was worth its weight in gold.

Of course, we appreciated our walk-in customers for their business, but the artist in each of us thrilled at designing something new and beautiful. I glanced down at the flowers I was currently drawing and forced my mind to stop wandering. The woman who wanted the design for her hip bone would be back in less than thirty minutes.

I put the pen back to the paper and focused on my work.

“Hey, Corey, take a look at this.” I set my pen down and walked over to Emilio’s station, where a man stood facing away from me. On the back of his right shoulder was the image of an infant. The image looked so real, it felt like I could reach out and pinch the baby’s cheek.

“Fucking fantastic, man.” I took a step forward, needing a closer look at the gorgeous design. Hiring Emilio had been one of my best decisions since opening the shop.

It sucked that his last shop didn’t give him the same freedom over his art and flexibility of his schedule. Their loss and my gain. Emilio only worked four days a week and only one night, but the demand to get on his schedule was so high he never had a moment without a client. People were willing to wait for months if it meant they could get one of his tattoos.

The guy looked over his shoulder. “Amazing, right? My little girl is beautiful.”

“She absolutely is.” I clasped Emilio on the shoulder. “Glad Emilio could get you taken care of. Great work.”

“Thanks, Corey.”

I left Emilio to finish up with his client and went back to my drawing. I set my pen down ten minutes later, the flower design in my hand. I wouldn’t create the template for the skin until I was sure the client liked it.

“That’s a simple design.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Lila standing in my doorway. Her long, curly red hair fell in waves down her back. I could see the purple butterfly tattoo peeking out beneath the curtain of her hair.

“Walk-in client. Wants something on her hip.”

“Make sense.”

“No one on your book today?”

“I have someone coming in for a belly button, but you know piercings are very rarely scheduled. People decide to get them in the spur of the moment.”

The ring of the bell from the door turned both our attentions in that direction. The woman from earlier had returned, followed by two younger girls.

I focused on the woman who wanted the tattoo. “I have your design ready. If you want to follow me back, I’ll show you.”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

“Hey,” Lila said in greeting to the two girls. “What can I do for you?”

One girl nudged the other when she didn’t say anything. The first girl spoke up. “My friend wants to get her nose pierced.”

I glanced over at Lila and lifted a brow. “Double-check their IDs.”

“No doubt.” She faced the girls. “I can definitely help with that, but first I need to see your ID.”

I led the woman to my station. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girl hand it over. Lila looked it over, smiled, then handed it back. “Follow me and I’ll get everything set up.”

I let her handle it from there and showed my design to the client in front of me. “How’s this?”

She took the paper from my hands. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Great. Why don’t you get settled on the table, and I’ll print this on the transfer paper.” I dropped the back so she could lie down on the table. “Just give me a few.”

The printer sat farther back in the studio, where we kept the other supplies like piercing jewelry and ink. I was printing the transfer when Lila popped in behind me.

“I take it she’s old enough?” I asked.

She laughed. “Today is her eighteenth birthday.”

“Now that makes a lot more sense.” She appeared young enough that I wondered if she was seventeen, trying to pass for eighteen on looks. But eighteenth birthday stops in my shop were all too common. Everyone wanted piercings and tattoos their parents wouldn’t let them get before they turned eighteen.

I collected the ink colors the client had requested, mixing the purple to a hue I knew would look great on her skin. After placing the ink and transfer on a tray, I returned to my station and set them on the side table.

“Does this look like the right place?” I set the transfer paper on her skin, then gave her the handheld mirror to check my placement right on her hip.

“Yep. That’s where I want it.”

“Great.” I took the mirror from her hand and set it back down before grabbing a wet rag to activate the transfer ink. Once I was sure everything was in place, I dipped the tip of the gun into the black ink. “Let me know if you need a break,” I reminded her as I moved the gun closer to her skin.

“I will. I should be good though. This can’t hurt nearly as badly as my foot.”

“You have a point.” The skin on the foot was extremely thin, making it one of the most painful places to get a tattoo. I turned on the gun and began pressing the ink into her skin.

* * *

I finished up the color and wiped away the excess ink. After placing some ointment on the new ink, I stood back, appreciating my work. It might have been a simple tattoo, but to me, every piece had my own personal touch. Something to make it stand out from the rest. The bright purple of the flower popped against the woman’s light skin.

“Ready to see?” I asked, holding my hand out to her.

“Yes, please.” She took my hand, and I helped her into a seated position.

She slid off the table and walked to the full-length mirror I kept at the back of my stall for people to inspect my work. A smile pulled up the corner of her lips. “I love it. It’s more than I was expecting.”

“I’m happy we surpassed your expectations. Mind if I take a shot of it for your file?”

“Of course not.” I grabbed the tablet and zoomed in until the tattoo took up most of the screen. I took the picture and added it to her file.

She finished admiring her new tattoo, and I wrapped up the freshly tattooed skin. “I’ll take you up front to get you checked out.”

She followed me to the counter, where I handed her a paper listing the aftercare instructions and a small tube of the same healing ointment I had applied to her skin.

“If you have any problems or questions while your skin is healing, my number is at the bottom. Please don’t hesitate to call the shop.”

“Thank you. I need to tell my friends to switch to this place.”

“We’d really appreciate it.”

She pulled out her wallet, paying for the work, then left after, putting the aftercare instructions into her purse. Without anyone else on my books for this time in the day, I returned to my station and opened the drawing app on my tablet.

Having a large book of designs that could be used or customized helped when people were unsure what they might want for their next piece. I opened the tiger I’d been working on yesterday. I zoomed in on the head and grabbed my stylus pen, focusing on the fur. Emilio had been slowly teaching me the techniques he used to create such realism in his work.

The bell to the shop rang, catching my attention, same as it always did. We’d been open for two years, yet the sound still gave my heart a little stutter in excitement.

What I hadn’t expected was to see the man who had just come through the door. His broad shoulders and tall frame made me take notice, but it was the face I’d seen on TV during the hockey season that gave it away instantly.

Leslie Knoxton had just walked into my shop.

The sight of him made me slightly nervous. He was notorious for that temper of his. I set my pencil down and stepped around my drawing desk. Whatever he was here for, I’d make this a great service. Happy men didn’t throw punches.

I stepped behind the reception desk. “Welcome. I’m Corey. Was there something I could help you with today?”

He looked at me and it was hard not to notice the warmth in his brown eyes. Not exactly what I expected, based on every picture I’d seen of him up until this moment. That probably had more to do with the pictures, which were usually taken in the middle or end of a fight.

“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo.”

“Okay. We can do that. Mind coming to my station so I can get more of an idea of what you are looking for?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

I led him around the counter to my station. I took a seat at the desk and grabbed the tablet, pulling up our new client questionnaire form. My stomach fluttered when he sat down. The thought that one of the Espen Jetties had walked into my shop had me on the edge of my seat. I had to do this right. The publicity from this man alone could help skyrocket the business even higher.

“Tell me about the ink you have already.” It was a standard question I asked every new client. It gave me a clearer idea of what they did and didn’t like, as well as what body parts were already covered.

“I don’t have any. I’m a tattoo virgin.”

My mouth practically dropped open. I couldn’t believe it. It was more common than not to see athletes with ink gracing their skin. Untouched skin, how much more perfect could this day get?

“You’re surprised?” He grinned.

“Yeah, you caught me off guard. It’s not often you see professional athletes without tattoos.”

“How about another shock then? Most of my teammates don’t have them either.”

“Really?”

“I think it’s time to change that.”

“I’d be happy to make it happen. Let me get a bit more information down.” I selected the correct answers for the questions on the form, then scrolled down to the art section. Once I’d opened the shop, I ordered software, so we’d be able to keep digital records of every client and the art we’d done for them. “Any idea what design you might want or where you might want it?”