Serious Ink

by Ranae Rose

  That sounded promising. Paul would be thrilled to know a new competition circuit was coming to Pittsburgh.

  “Sounds impressive,” she said, meaning it. When Noah had walked into Hot Ink in his suit and tie, MMA hadn’t even crossed her mind. It made sense, though – it was the sort of industry where she could imagine the professional world being less than buttoned-up and stuffy.

  “You think so?” Noah looked surprised again.

  “Yeah. I mean, I’m no martial artist, but I like to watch MMA. I think it’s pretty cool that a big championship like that is coming to Pittsburgh.”

  “Well, it’s big for us,” Noah said. “Definitely the biggest event we’ve ever organized, though we’re still a growing company. We hope this one will really put us on the map.”

  “Your event sounds a few steps above most of the local fights I’ve been to.”

  “You’re interested in the local MMA circuit?”

  “Yeah. I—”

  “Grilled skewered shrimp.” The waitress appeared, lowering a steaming platter.

  “Those are mine,” Zoe said. “Thank you.”

  “Careful – plate’s hot.” The waitress lowered a sizzling steak in front of Noah. “Anything else I can get you two?”

  Noah looked across the table at Zoe, gaze questioning.

  “We’re fine for now. Thanks.”

  Zoe couldn’t resist popping one of the shrimp into her mouth while it was still hot. Plump and faintly spicy, it was delicious – her favorite item on the restaurant’s gluten-free menu. “Mmm.”

  “What about your work?” Noah asked after cutting a bite of his steak.

  Heat crept into Zoe’s cheeks, and it had nothing to do with her dinner’s spiciness. “At Hot Ink, you mean?” She considered her position as receptionist at the tattoo studio to be her “real” job. Moonlighting at Sugar Panda – well, that was just something she had to do, not something she loved.

  He nodded.

  “I’ve been working there for a few years. I love it. The staff is great, and so is the owner, Jed – you met him. It’s a good place to work; there’s a real sense of camaraderie.”

  “So the yogurt place – that’s just something you do on the side?”

  “Hey, I thought you said we could pretend you never saw me there?”

  He winced. “Sorry. Forgot.”

  “I guess I can forgive you, since you turned down the dinner rolls.” She scooped up a bite of rice pilaf. “And yeah, it’s just a part-time job. I work 35 hours a week at Hot Ink, but lately it just hasn’t been enough to make ends meet. Not that the pay isn’t fair – it is. But I had to do something, and when I saw Sugar Panda was hiring…” She shrugged. “Well, now I’m a ‘yogurt artist’. I haven’t been there long, but it looks like they’re going to give me about twenty hours a week.”

  Her encounter with Dennis sprang to the forefront of her mind. “That was the plan, anyway – I guess I need to brush up on my shamelessness if I expect them to keep me around.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry about that – showing up, I mean. I didn’t realize—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Rehashing it was almost as embarrassing as the original incident had been. It was bad enough that she wore fake ears for a living – knowing that he felt sorry for her was too much. “Really. I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t want you staring across the table and picturing me in my panda ears.”

  One side of his mouth quirked in a smile. “For the record, I thought the ears were cute.”

  She died a little inside. “You’re just saying that. Anyway, they give me a headache every time I put them on. I loathe them.”

  “Call me crazy, but maybe you should call it quits at Sugar Panda.” He donned a more serious expression. “Costumes and singing aside, your boss seems like a real jerk. If the job is making you miserable, maybe you should keep looking.”

  She shook her head as all the reasons why she didn’t dare do exactly that raced through her mind. When she really thought about the obligations that had driven her to don a pair of panda ears in the first place, it was almost overwhelming. “What you’re saying makes sense, but I just can’t.” A little heat crept up her neck. Bringing up money on a date – talk about tacky. “I really need the income those extra work hours provide.”

  Even if she quit Sugar Panda, it might take her weeks or even months to find another part-time position, and the bills stacked on the kitchen table at home put that out of the question. She was already playing catch-up as it was. “I’d hoped for something a little more professional than dishing out yogurt toppings, but I really shouldn’t complain. There are people out there looking for jobs who can’t find them. I’m sorry I’ve been such a whiner. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Professional like how?”

  She shrugged. “Well, I’ve got years of experience as a receptionist. I wouldn’t have minded finding another position like that. I’m pretty organized and I’m sure Jed would give me a good reference.”

  Noah sat back in his chair, but his eyes never left hers. For a few seconds, she let herself get lost in all that green, and then her gaze drifted south, to his mouth and below… She still didn’t know what kind of tattoos he already had, or what he’d seen Jed for. Resigned to pure conjecture, she let herself fantasize about what might be hidden beneath his shirt buttons. Were his arms tattooed? His chest? Or maybe—

  “You know, we’re hiring.”

  “What?” She snapped her gaze upward as a flush of heat swept through her.

  “We’re hiring at Elite East MMA – my company. Like I said, we’re growing.”

  Despite her surprise, her hopes shot right up. “You probably don’t have anything I’d be suitable for,” she said, struggling not to let them get too high. “I don’t want to give up my job at Hot Ink – I just want something I can do part-time, when I’m not at the studio.”

  “Given that we’re in the midst of a transition, hiring some part-time help would be perfect. And you’ve already got reception skills and experience. I’m serious; if you want a job at Elite East, you’ve got one. I can give you 20 hours a week, easy, and we’ll work around your other schedule. The rest of us are already working crazy hours anyway.”

  Zoe’s heart sped as she imagined tossing her panda ears down on Dennis’ desk. “I wouldn’t have to sing, would I?”

  Noah grinned. “Not a note. Unless you want to, of course.”

  “I’m in. If you’re sure, I mean – if you could really use my help and you’re not just trying to do me a favor…” She didn’t even ask about the pay – it had to at least be equivalent to what she was making at Sugar Panda. Yogurt artists barely made over minimum wage.

  “I’m sure. And you’d be doing me – us – a favor.” His expression was serious, but light shone in his eyes. “Besides, I like the idea of seeing a lot more of you.”

  The butterflies in her stomach went crazy. “I guess you’ll be my boss. Does this make our dinner a business meeting instead of a date?” She tried not to feel disappointed at the thought of their time together being tax-deductible. It would be perfectly reasonable if that were the case. Who dated their boss, anyway? A lot of companies didn’t even allow that sort of thing.

  Noah frowned. “I hope not.”

  “I just thought – you know, it might be against the rules or something.”

  His frown faded. “Well, considering that I make the rules, I’d say it’s definitely not.” He reached across the table and touched her hand, sending fire creeping through her veins. “You don’t have to take the job if you don’t want it or you don’t feel comfortable. But even if this isn’t the start of a professional relationship, I hope it’s the start of something.”

  * * * * *

  For the second time that week, Zoe walked into the townhouse she called home and was greeted by the sound of a squeaking mattress. Instant heat flared in her cheeks, and she turned, opening the front door a crack, half t
empted to sprint back out to her car.

  But it was cold outside, and she was tired. So instead, she walked over to the sink, turned on the water and began banging pots around, more to make noise than because she actually felt compelled to wash the dishes at eleven o’clock at night. After all, she had her first day of work at Elite East MMA early the next morning, and then an evening shift at Hot Ink.

  “Zoe!” After a couple minutes, Britney came striding down the hall, her cheeks pink and her normally sleek blonde ponytail decidedly mussed. “You’re back. When you called and said you had a date, I figured you’d be out late.”

  “I have work early in the morning. And it is late.”

  Britney glanced at the kitchen clock, a look of chagrin shadowing her pretty face. “I didn’t realize… Anyway, I was going to get those. Hand over the gloves.”

  “I’ve already started – I can handle it.” There were only a few things that needed to be washed, really. It wouldn’t take long.

  “I insist. You’re working more hours than anyone else in this house, now that you’re on with Sugar Panda.”

  “Actually, I—”

  “Zoe.” Paul emerged into the kitchen, shirtless and sockless in just his jeans.

  Smooth. Unlike Britney, who’d pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, Paul didn’t even bother to try to look like he hadn’t just finished up a quickie. Sometimes, living with her brother and his fiancée made Zoe feel like a third wheel, to put it mildly. Coming home when they were in the middle of sex was the worst – they usually tried to be discreet, but the townhome had been cheaply constructed some thirty years ago, and the walls were thin.

  “How was dad?” Zoe asked, handing over the rubber dish gloves to Britney, who immediately began scrubbing a pot crusted with dried tomato sauce.

  “He seemed to be having an okay day,” Paul said. “I hung out with him for a couple hours. He didn’t say anything, but he ate dinner.” Paul shrugged, but his true feelings were reflected in his eyes, which went a shade darker as he looked down at the floor. “They stopped me on my way out, asked me about the bills…”

  Zoe winced. “They didn’t say anything in front of dad, did they?” The nursing home staff members were generally professional and discreet, but Zoe lived in constant fear that someone would mention money in front of their father. They were two months behind on the facility’s monthly bill now. In another week, they’d be three months overdue.

  “No.”

  “Good. Anyway, I’ll be getting my first check from my second job soon. So that’ll be something.” Not enough, but something. “And actually…”

  She filled Paul and Britney in on her unexpected second job change, mentioning only that she’d found a part-time receptionist position and leaving the details – including the fact that she’d just had a date with her new boss – out. “They’ll be paying me more than I was making at Sugar Panda, too.” Noah had quoted a pay figure to her before dropping her off in the parking lot near Hot Ink.

  “That’s great.” Paul sounded like he meant it, even though he frowned. “I, uh… I’ve got a fight coming up in Philly. A week from now. Money’s all right, if I win.”

  Paul had been laid off from his day job five months ago. Since then, he’d been doing his best to scrape a living by teaching a few jiu-jitsu classes at the school where he’d earned his black belt years ago and participating in low-paying MMA cage matches. When he wasn’t teaching or competing, he was usually at the gym training, or out looking for another day job. So far, he’d only been granted a handful of interviews, and nothing had come of those. In some ways, the job market was tougher than the inside of a cage.

  “Cool,” Zoe said, approaching the kitchen table and picking up the stack of envelopes that comprised the day’s mail and trying to look casual. A part of her was dying to tell Paul about the Elite East Championship Tournament, but she’d promised Noah – until the next day, the news was a company secret. “Is Britney heading to Philly with you?”

  “I can’t,” Britney said. “I picked up a couple more yoga classes at the gym – I’ll be teaching that day.”

  “Wow. More classes? Nice.” Britney was a personal trainer and yoga instructor, and lately, business had been lagging. Most of the people who’d signed up for fitness classes as part of a New Year’s resolution had fallen off the bandwagon already, and she’d lost several long-time clients, too. Picking up more classes was a big deal.

  Britney flashed a grin over her shoulder as she sprayed down a plate. “Yeah.”

  A new job, new classes and a new tournament – it had been a long time since everyone had had such a good day. Well, Paul didn’t know yet that he was having a good day, but he’d find out tomorrow. Zoe’s spirits were high, even as she shuffled through a stack of bills, tearing envelopes open. “Ugh. I didn’t realize we missed the due date for the water bill – now we have to pay a late fee.”

  “They’re not going to shut it off, are they?” Britney asked.

  “No. We still have a week to pay.” It was doable, but Zoe still wanted to kick her own ass. On top of the mounting nursing home debt and their freshly-raised rent, the last thing they needed was to waste money on something like a late fee for a bill that could’ve been paid on time. She hadn’t meant to let the water bill slip through the cracks; the past week had just been hectic, what with the start of her new job and all.

  Paul plucked the bill from her hands. “I’ll take care of it – write a check tonight and send it out in the morning. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thanks.” Zoe sat the rest of the mail down – staring at the sky-high nursing facility bills wouldn’t diminish them by a single a penny. She might as well focus on starting her new job the next day, since that was the only realistic thing she could do to lessen the debt.

  “I’m going to head to bed, you guys,” Zoe said. “See you tomorrow.” She cast a glance over her shoulder as she stepped out of the room, but Paul and Britney didn’t seem to have heard.

  And no wonder – they were both standing in front of the sink, hips touching as they scrubbed dishes together. Britney’s messy ponytail flip-flopped as she tipped her head to the side, letting it rest against Paul’s shoulder. Her voice was quiet, but Zoe caught the words “Philly” and “better soon”.

  The conversation snippets drove home a poignant truth: Paul and Britney had been engaged for a year, and the only reason they weren’t married already was because they couldn’t afford to be. Or at least, they couldn’t afford a ceremony – not with the outstanding nursing home bills. And then there was the fact that they more or less had to live with Zoe. The three of them living together allowed them each to contribute more money toward Paul and Zoe’s father’s care.

  And that was what mattered most to each of them – including Britney, who might as well have married into the family already – even if the arrangement was awkward, at times. Sometimes Zoe dreamed of independence – escaping to her own space and leaving Paul and Britney to their love nest – but more often, she dreamed of what life might’ve been like if everything hadn’t fallen apart for the Ramsey family in the first place.

  CHAPTER 3

  Noah almost choked on his coffee when Zoe walked into the Elite East building at nine am sharp on Saturday morning. She wore a black pencil skirt, matching pumps and a white blouse that he wanted to personally rip each and every button off of. All in all, it was a far cry from the jeans and t-shirt she’d worn at Hot Ink, or the panda ears they’d forced on her at the yogurt place. “You look great,” he said, gaping at her over the rim of his coffee cup.

  “Thanks.” She smoothed the front of her skirt after shrugging out of an unbuttoned black coat. “I guess this is okay then – I’m not dressed too casually?”

  He blinked, giving her another slow up and down. “I don’t see what’s casual about what you’re wearing.”

  “I’m not wearing a jacket. A blazer, I mean. I wasn’t completely sure what to wear – you look so nice in y
our suits and that was the only thing I had to go off of when trying to determine the dress code around here. I don’t have a lot of business casual things anyway – it’s not like I need that kind of wardrobe for Hot Ink.”

  “You could’ve worn jeans and I wouldn’t have cared,” he said. “I’m only wearing a suit because I’ve got the press conference today.”

  But oh, how glad he was that she’d opted for the pencil skirt and heels… Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he did his best to keep his eyes on hers, even as his cock hardened.

  “In the future, wear whatever makes you comfortable.” He swept a hand through the air, gesturing at the mostly empty space on the mostly empty floor they’d signed the lease on just a week ago. “I picked up a desk for you, but it’s still in the box it came in. I don’t think I have any right to complain about appearances.”

  She seemed to relax a little, her shoulders easing down the tiniest bit, the motion drawing his attention to her breasts. She’d buttoned her blouse up to her collarbones, but her clothing emphasized her figure, drawing his eye to every feminine curve. God, she was beautiful, no matter what she wore. He’d been thinking about her in her simple t-shirt since the night before, and now he knew he had no hope of ever getting her out of his head.

  “So how do you want me to start?” she asked. “Is there a phone you want me to, uh, answer? Any filing that needs to be done…” She glanced around at the open space, which was conspicuously lacking in the furniture department, a little dent appearing in her lower lip.

  “Yeah, we’ve got a phone.” They had that, a coffee maker and a few chairs. “To be honest, we’re just getting set up here. I know it doesn’t look like much. I’ll get started on assembling your desk right now. Meanwhile, why don’t you have a cup of coffee? The phone is over in that corner—” he pointed to where it sat on the carpet, its wire running into the bare wall “—and if it rings, it’d be great if you could answer it. I don’t expect you to hunker down on the floor beside it or anything, though.”