Moments in Ink

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  The three of them burst out laughing as Zia came back, confusion on her face.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Aaron being put in his place,” Marcus said, shaking his head.

  Thankfully, Zia didn’t ask exactly how that had happened. We went back to our drinks, all of us keenly aware of what we weren’t saying.

  But it didn’t matter. I did not have a thing for Zia. She might be hot, might be exactly my type, but I wasn’t looking.

  Once we’d finished our drinks, we each paid and headed our separate ways, Aaron and me promising to see each other again, and me being nice to the others.

  It was good to find new people to speak with, to stop shutting myself in my house like a hermit. But I was ready to go home and do exactly that.

  I pulled into my driveway at nearly the same time as Zia did in hers and tilted my chin at the other woman.

  She walked towards me along the stone path between our houses, the connections between them so stark that it sometimes seemed odd that the two homes had been sold separately when so many things seemed to be shared between them.

  “Hey there,” Zia said.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “I have your coat. I can get it to you.”

  “Um, maybe tomorrow. I need to go in. Headache,” I lied.

  She seemed to understand that I was lying. But I didn’t care. I didn’t know what to make of her, and I needed to get my thoughts in order first.

  It was hard to do that with her standing right there looking sexy as hell.

  “Sorry for how we met. It’s a funny story, but I can be a little out there, so I apologize if I embarrassed you.”

  I shook my head, confused. “You didn’t embarrass me at all. I’m just glad that you made it inside your house, and you have good friends that could help you. There were a lot of connections tonight. I guess it confused me.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” She licked her lips, and my gaze went straight to her mouth. I didn’t think either of us had meant for it to happen.

  She let out a slow breath. “Have a good night, neighbor.”

  “Goodnight,” I whispered. She looked at me again, her chest rising slowly as she inhaled, and then she turned on her very high heels and made her way back toward her house.

  I made sure she made it inside safely, and then I walked into my own home and closed the door behind me. I put my palms on the wood, inhaling again, trying to get her scent out of my nostrils, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I had moved here to get healthy, to get happy.

  Not to find someone that was probably all wrong for me and bruise my heart even more than it already was.

  But there was something about Zia.

  And hell, I had a feeling that even though I could hide and never see my neighbor again if I really tried, it wasn’t going to be easy. And most of me didn’t want it to be.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter 3

  Zia

  * * *

  “And that’s it for this look. What do you think? Be sure to hit subscribe on my channel and like this video if you’d like to keep up on all of our looks. It’s been wonderful seeing you again, my beauties. I wish you all the best, and remember, the beauty we play with starts from the inside. Be kind and remember that you are loved. This is Zia, and I love you.”

  I smiled, lowered my eyes to show off my makeup again, and then hit end on the recording.

  I let out a sigh, rolled my shoulders back, and looked at my makeup. My recording had gone longer than I had planned, but I felt like I had hit a stride.

  It had been a while since I’d done a video this long, or even a tutorial. I wasn’t active like I used to be, my views going way down since I wasn’t one of the popular beauty bloggers any longer. And that was fine with me, it wasn’t the main focus of my business anymore, and I didn’t solely rely on YouTube advertising to pay my bills. Every once in a while, I liked sitting in front of a camera, though, taking the time to set up my lighting and have some fun with a new look.

  I had been thinking about this one for a while, Poison Ivy meets a Disney princess. I liked being able to explore and experiment with my looks, even if the ones I did weren’t perfect for every day. Most of the looks I did these days weren’t for my old channel but for clients who wanted to learn how to be able to do their makeup to feel as if they were brightening their eyes or making their cheekbones stand out the way that they wanted them to. All without feeling down about themselves, and without adding too much to their morning routine so they could go into work.

  While in England, I’d worked on opening my business and launching my makeup line with my new palette coming out in the fall. I also had my YouTube channel, my other social media, advertising, and being a makeup artist in general. I didn’t have the option of going into other avenues that many makeup artists did, mostly because I had moved to Boulder and not to New York or LA. I had thought about doing that after coming home from England and going into that form of makeup, but I’d wanted to be home for a little bit. To remember who I was. And while my path in my career wasn’t standard, I was figuring out what worked for me. And it would evolve as times changed. Because I wasn’t going to sit back and waste what income I had already made by forgetting what I needed to do and be in the future—whoever that person may be.

  Now, I was pretty much covered head to toe in a princess Poison Ivy look, and it was a little ridiculous. However, I wasn’t going to change until later. I needed to use the lighting in the other part of my house to take more pictures for social media to add to my video once I edited it, and even work on more photos for my friend’s cosplay site. They owned a blog where they went over different looks for cosplay to help people who were closet cosplayers or new in the arena to figure out where they wanted to start and what they wanted to have fun with.

  I loved it because it didn’t matter where they came from socioeconomically, or if they looked nothing like the person they wanted to cosplay, everybody could have their own twist. They didn’t have to be “a perfect Barbie” as an old cosplayer blogger used to call them.

  I wasn’t a fan of making anyone feel like they weren’t enough. I wanted to show the world that they could be anybody they wanted to be. They had to love themselves first.

  Maybe it was an old saying, and people would laugh at me for how I made my living, but it was a living, and if I could bring joy to people while I did that, then that’s what I would do.

  When I needed to move on to a new career, I would, but this would always be something I loved, even if it was only a thing for me to do in a room with great lighting and a palette of eyeshadow.

  I looked down at my notes and made a few more for my staff. I loved that I could employ people now, especially in the other parts of my business that had nothing to do with the makeup on my face. My goal was to provide an income for others that worked hard but maybe couldn’t find a normal path to employment. Whatever normal was these days.

  I wanted to provide for people who needed help but weren’t able to ask for it. Most of my staff was made up of single mothers or men and women who, thanks to circumstances out of their control, felt unable to really leave their house and go in for a nine-to-five job. But I was there for them, doing my best to help them.

  I loved my job, even if I didn’t have an exact title with most things. Still, I considered myself an entrepreneur. One who wanted to help others, to show beauty in the way people wanted themselves to be.

  With makeup or without. Simply healthy.

  My degree in psychology didn’t help me with everything, but it did in some things. I had wanted to go to cosmetology school, but that hadn’t happened. In the end, I’d gotten to sort of mix both of my passions. At least, in a way.

  I went outside, needing the air, and figured I could take some outdoor shots using my tripod and timer. I froze at the sound of Meredith’s voice.

  “I understand, but that�
�s not what we talked about.”

  I couldn’t see her, but the clipped nature of her words made me freeze, not wanting to intrude. However, I also wanted to know if there was anything I could do. Not that I knew if I could do anything.

  “Fine, fine. Send the paperwork over. You and I aren’t done.” Meredith let out a sigh, cursed under her breath, and then went silent. I figured she had ended the call.

  The trees still separated us, so I did my best to ignore her. I didn’t even say hello because I didn’t want her to think that I had been listening in—because I totally had been.

  Instead, I set up my light and tripod near the far corner of my yard and hoped she wouldn’t come around the trees and see me in my full cosplay regalia.

  I wasn’t in full costume, but I was still wearing leather pants, a bright green lace-up top, and my boobs were pretty much pushed to my chin. I had put on a ruby red wig, and I felt like a million bucks.

  I didn’t need to be judged by someone who didn’t understand my job.

  And maybe that was my ex from London talking in my head, not Meredith. But I really didn’t want to get hurt again. Especially not by someone I felt an attraction to, one I should probably ignore.

  I put my hands on my hips and took a few photos doing my best to find the right angle.

  I went back to my phone, checked to see what the photos looked like, and adjusted.

  “Thank you for my jacket,” Meredith said from the gate. I froze, thankful that I didn’t push back and trip over my heels.

  “Oh, you’re welcome. I didn’t know where to put it.”

  “Over the gate like you did, and on a towel so it didn’t get dirty was perfect. So, thank you.”

  I let out a breath and nodded, doing my best not to look at Meredith in her full accountant straitlaced gear. She looked like fucking Rachel Maddow and Megan Rapinoe had had a baby and became my wet dream.

  There was something wrong with the way Meredith looked, all sexy as hell and serious.

  And though her undercut made it look as if she might have a wild side or at least an angle that wasn’t as judgy, everything else bled seriousness.

  The exact opposite of my current costume.

  “Anyway, I need to get back to work.” I heard the curtness in my words and saw Meredith raise a brow.

  Was the look in response to my getup? Or my tone?

  “What are you working on?” Meredith asked.

  “Uh, just photos.”

  Smooth.

  “Is this a new makeup look for your channel?” Meredith asked.

  I blinked, confused. Had I told her about my channel? No, I had said that I was a makeup artist. Maybe Aaron had mentioned it.

  “I recognized your name once I thought about it. A couple of my friends follow you religiously and try out your looks.”

  “Your friends. But not you?” I asked, wondering why I sounded so catty.

  Meredith snorted and gestured towards the gate. I nodded, waving my hand, and she stepped through and headed towards where I was standing. I didn’t know what she wanted, but practically shouting over the backyard was idiotic.

  “I don’t have the talent for it.”

  “Anybody can have the talent for it. You only need to learn the basic steps,” I said, repeating my mantra.

  “Maybe. I don’t have that type of talent, though. I seriously don’t. I’m good with two colors on my eyes, a light one and a dark one, and sometimes I even blend them together. Very thin eyeliner usually helps me out. I tried that cat-eye look once. Let’s just say I ended up with pinkeye.”

  I held back a wince. “Clean brushes are the way to go.”

  “I know that. But I stabbed myself in the eye so hard, it ended up pink.”

  I snorted at that.

  “Really?”

  “Really. I am seriously the worst at it. I know you say that anybody can learn, but I don’t think that’s the case. I’m better at one-on-one training.”

  I didn’t know if she was hitting on me, but the way she looked at me, her eyes all dark and stormy, the way she licked her lips? I wanted it to be flirting.

  Or maybe I saw too much into what wasn’t there.

  “You know, you have great cheekbones,” I said suddenly, and she smiled at me.

  “That’s good genetics.”

  “Perhaps. You can work with those with any look that you want. If, you know…you ever want my help or anything. Not that you need it. But it is sort of my job.”

  I was rambling, and I knew it, and from the way that she smiled at me, she knew it, too.

  Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer. I’d like to be able to know at least how to do more than I already do. It’d be nice to have a better basic work look. As well as to have something to wear when I go out. Not that I go out all that much, other than with Aaron when he forces me.”

  She smiled at that, and I swallowed hard, trying not to imagine her out on the town with me on her arm.

  I was seriously losing my mind.

  “So, are you Poison Ivy? As a princess?” She looked up at the tiara I had forgotten I’d put in my wig.

  “I am. At least, partly. Thanks for getting it right.”

  “It was the green. Plus, did you put leaves on your eyelids?”

  I fluttered my eyelashes and grinned. “Yep. Took forever, it was probably one of my harder tutorials, but I can’t wait to see what people think of it and do on their own. They tag me in the best Instagram photos.”

  I was also tagged in some of the worst, but those were just trolls looking for attention, and I wanted nothing to do with that.

  “I’ve always wanted to have fun with my makeup and things, but I’ve never been good at it. And my ex always wanted me to be a girly girl, even when I sometimes didn’t feel like being one. Sometimes I do. But…I don’t know. When I left him, I went full-on opposite. I threw away my dresses, got the undercut, and proclaimed that I would be who I was.”

  I froze, feeling as if I didn’t move, she might forget that I was standing there and open herself up again. Not that I was any good at opening up.

  “You can be whoever you want to be. And I know those words are overused, and sometimes aren’t the truth, but if you can find your way in there, you can be the girly girl you want to be. Or not. Whatever.” I added the last part, completely derailing my conversation, but she smiled at me and stuffed her hands into her suit pockets.

  The fact that her pants had actual pockets held me transfixed, and she rocked back on her heels and grinned.

  “Yes, these are men’s pants. Women’s don’t usually have pockets. I mean, what the hell, right?”

  “I swear, every time I wear a dress with pockets, I twirl and show everyone I can that it does, indeed, have pockets.”

  “The best stuff does.”

  A silence dropped between us, and I wasn’t sure if it was awkward or not.

  “What you said about your ex? I had something similar before. When I left him, back in England… Anyway, I’m still trying to figure out who I am.”

  “I didn’t know who I was before. I’m also trying to figure it out,” Meredith said, not looking at me. “I do like the suits, though.”

  “Well, you look fucking hot in them.”

  Meredith looked at me then, her eyes dark, a smile playing on her lips.

  I swallowed hard. “Go out with me,” I said, surprising myself.

  I must have surprised her too because her eyes widened.

  “I mean, forget that. That was stupid. We’re neighbors. You might be my accountant. Okay, you might not be my accountant. We’re both totally not looking for anything. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Okay,” Meredith said, and I froze.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. Let’s go out. We’re both not looking for anything serious. Right?”

  I nodded. “I want nothing to do with serious.”

  “Then, sure. Why not? I could use a friend.” She paused, and something in my heart tore, eve
n though I didn’t know what or why. “Or whatever.”

  Whatever. I could do whatever.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Now, did you find your right angle? Or do you need some help with the camera?” Meredith asked, grinning.

  “Really? You want to help?”

  “Why not?”

  “You could always join me and be the serious businesswoman beside Poison Ivy.”

  “I don’t think I’m wearing the right makeup for that.”

  “I don’t think you’re giving yourself a chance.”

  And then she stepped forward. My breath caught, and she reached for the camera.

  “Why don’t you be the star, and I’ll stand behind the lens.”

  “For now,” I said, laughing.

  “Perhaps.

  I let out a breath and let Poison Ivy as a princess fill me.

  I could pretend, I could become the people that were nothing like me. Because, as Meredith had said, I didn’t know who I was. But I was figuring it out.

  And, apparently, I had a date.

  Chapter 4

  Meredith

  * * *

  I ran my hands over my face and stared at my closet, wondering what the hell I was doing. I needed to pick what I was going to wear for my date with Zia, but I had no idea what look to go with.

  Should I try for girly girl as we had talked about?

  Would she like me like that?

  We had talked about me in a dress, but was that me right now? I liked wearing pants most of the time, though I still had a couple of dresses I hadn’t donated when I left my husband.

  Only I wasn’t sure I was ready to wear a dress. And the two that I had in the back of my closet weren’t set up for dinner and dancing and possibly drinks that Zia and I had talked about after the photoshoot.

  Or should I go with the suit? Maybe some leather? Lace? Or perhaps just go in my bra and panties like she had worn when I first met her, and we could call it a day.

  I ran my hands down my face again, grateful that I hadn’t put on any makeup yet. Not that my makeup would look anywhere near close to Zia’s. Maybe I should quit while I was ahead and text her that I couldn’t go. She would probably hate me for it, but at least I wouldn’t feel as dejected as I did right now.