One More Day

by Hadley, Auryn

  "Ya did good today." His blue eyes caught hers, but he glanced away quickly. "We finished seventeen more than normal."

  "Damn," Colby breathed. "So that's why my arms feel like lead. It was like they kept coming and coming. I barely got the damned irons clean, and there was another ready for the chair."

  "Next time you take the damned tramp stamps though," Ryan teased. "That one, with the glaring boyfriend? Fucking bitch would not hold still."

  Mack's eyes widened a bit. So far, Ryan had been very soft spoken, and she wasn't sure she'd heard him say a foul word, yet. Two in one sentence had to be a record.

  "You're shockin' the help," Colby teased.

  His head snapped over to her. "Yeah," he said, remembering that Mack was there. "Sorry, Mack."

  "Seriously?" Colby asked. "She's not a fucking prude, man. I know; she told me."

  Ryan threw up his hands and walked around the corner. That embarrassed smile was teasing his lips again.

  Colby sank into her chair, laughing. "So, you got Ryan going."

  "Going?" she asked, completely confused.

  "Yep, he's being self-conscious. He had to be melting back there, but hasn't stripped off that damned long sleeve yet. If you let him, he'll wear it all summer too."

  "Wait. He doesn't like his tats?"

  Colby shook his head. "He loves his tattoos. He just doesn't like other people's opinions about them. He'll cave soon enough, but you have him watching his language and blushing like a little boy. What the hell did you do to him?"

  She sighed and pulled up another chair. "Got caught having a melt down Tuesday. I got fired and had a shit day, so was sobbing my eyes out walking home."

  "You?"

  She nodded. "It was a pretty shit day. I mean, they had me work almost the whole damned shift before they had the balls to lay me off. Too few calls to justify the temps, they said, but my damned line rang non-stop."

  "What'd ya do?"

  "Call center, inbound sales."

  "Sucks," he teased.

  "Hairy balls," she agreed, making him laugh again. "So what's next, Colby? What do I need to do to help close down?"

  "If I say sweep the lobby you aren't going to give me shit for being a chauvinist?"

  "Not if you tell me where the broom is."

  He showed her the cleaning supplies, and together they got to work. While Mack swept, he cleaned the tools one more time, and wiped down the chairs, paying special attention to the seams. They joked as they worked, and the time flew. It was nearly two am when they were done. Colby tossed his arm over her shoulders casually and dragged her back to the office where Ryan was staring at a screen, entranced.

  "Dude, quitting time," he teased his boss.

  Ryan looked up. "You're done already?"

  "Yeah, Mack pitched in. I'm out, bro. You need a ride home, Mack?"

  "It's not far," she said, gesturing in the general direction. "I can walk, Colby."

  He shrugged. "Then it's not a problem. You said you walked, and it's fuckin late and we aren't exactly on the best side of town. I mean, if you don't want me to know where you live, that's cool as shit, but if you want a ride, I don't mind."

  "Take the ride," Ryan said. "He's going that way."

  "Ok, that's actually nice. I just don't want to put you out," she admitted. "Lemme grab my shit?"

  He nodded, and she went to find her bag. Storing her art supplies carefully, she could easily hear the men's voices without the clients talking and music to drown them out. Her hands moved a bit slower as she listened, not even ashamed to be eavesdropping.

  "Ryan, how long are you going to be stupid, man?" Colby asked.

  "I dunno. Just lay off."

  "If you didn't want her around, then why'd you hire her?"

  Ryan sighed. "I like having her around. You saw her work! She's amazing."

  The way he said amazing made Mack's stomach flip. She didn't think her art was that good, but he purred the word off his tongue. To have the Super Hot Guy refer to her in that tone made her smile in a way she hadn't since junior high.

  "She's also cool as shit," Colby said. "We're keeping her, and that means you need to grow a fucking pair of balls. C'mon, how much more did we make tonight than last week?"

  "Almost four thousand," Ryan said. "And she scheduled quite a few for next week. I mean, she has the flow, the idea, and damn, she can just whip up things that make the clients happy? Yeah. She's good."

  "She's got the portfolio, man. She's already able to mimic our styles too. How long until she's an apprentice?"

  "What?" Mack asked, coming around the corner.

  Ryan tilted his head to Colby. "He thinks you should learn to tattoo."

  "I don't know a thing about tattoos!" Her head flipped between them.

  "More than you think," Ryan assured her. "Most of the hard part is the art. Using the tools just takes practice."

  "And you'd need a tattoo," Colby said. "Maybe a nice tramp stamp? Get you to pull your little pants down to your ass?"

  "Fuck," Mack said, laughing at him. "You are not tattooing my fat ass. Take me home and save your bad pickup lines."

  Laughing, he slung his arm over her shoulder again, guiding her to the back of the building. "Baby, I'd hit that ass."

  "Colby, you'd hit anything so long as it was warm and wet. I'm not even sure you'd need those," she shot back.

  He laughed, nodding. "Probably true. Fuck. Tell me you're keeping the job, Mack?"

  They'd reached the back door, and he pulled it open, then turned to lock it. She thought that was a bit odd, but assumed that locking Ryan in was probably safer than leaving him alone with the back door wide open.

  "Yes, Colby, I'm keeping the job. At least until Ryan fires me."

  "Shit. He's not about to fire you. Take a lot before that happens. Ryan Sterling doesn't exactly get along with most people, but when he does, it takes a fuck load before he gives up on them. He's one of the good ones, Mack. You make an honest effort, and he'll get your back."

  He pressed a button on his key fob, and the lights of a truck flashed at the back of the small parking lot. Next to it, she couldn't help but notice the sport bike. It was bright yellow and black, the color catching her eye.

  "Cute bike," she said, walking to the passenger side.

  Colby chuckled. "What is it with you babes and the bikes?"

  "Good excuse to wrap our arms around the guy driving?"

  "I see," he teased, glancing over to her. "I'll tell Ryan to take you for a ride then. It's his."

  That was not what she'd expected at all, but some how it fit. She could see him on the bike, in a set of matching leathers, with a full face helmet. She could also very easily imagine how nice his ass would look leaned over that thing. As her mind daydreamed - only for a split second - Colby watched, smiling bigger and bigger when she had nothing to say.

  "Stop!" she demanded.

  "You got the hots for him, huh?"

  Mack just sighed, and pulled her seatbelt on. "Not fucking my boss does not mean that he doesn't have a nice ass. I can't say anything about yours since your pants look like you took a shit in them."

  "They do not!" he assured her.

  She nodded her head slowly, grinning. "Yep. That sag in the back, yeah. Looks like you dumped a load. Good thing you don't smell like it."

  The teasing didn't slow between them for the few blocks until she got to her apartment. When she told him the last turn, he slowed and looked at the buildings on either side.

  "You fucking live in Cement City?" he asked.

  "Only place I can afford."

  "Yeah. That fucking sucks. Look, I'll be here tomorrow at one thirty, if you're ok with that? Gives us enough time to get into work early?"

  "You're picking me up now, too?"

  Colby sighed, and the smart ass slipped away. "Mack, I used to live here. I know how many people get shot. Yeah, I'm giving you a ride. So which one is yours?"

  "Seventeen, bottom floor here on the left."
She pointed as he slowed to a stop.

  "Wanna give me your number, too, so if I'm late or something I can call?"

  "Sure."

  "Not flipping out about sharing personal information?" He seemed honestly confused by that.

  "Still not dating my co-workers," she teased. "Besides, I know how to block your calls."

  He smiled, the easy going man quickly returning. "Yeah. Tomorrow then. Going to be even more crazy, you know."

  "Makes me the money." She waved as she closed the truck's door and jogged around the front.

  He didn't leave until she'd not only unlocked her door but stepped inside and turned on a light. For all of his bravado, Colby seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. Ryan was beautiful, Colby was kind, and she enjoyed what she was doing. Everything seemed perfect for just a few minutes, until she saw the note on the fridge.

  Chemo, 8am, Monday morning!

  Chapter 5

  The weekend went by in a blur. Colby managed to find countless ways to pick on her, always hoping to get her to blush. Each time she gave as good as she got, he was more impressed. By Sunday night, the two of them had grown comfortable with each other, and she was even thinking of him as her friend, not just her co-worker.

  Ryan still hadn't shown off his tattoos. Sunday he'd gone as far as pushing his sleeves up, but the purple surgical gloves obscured nearly as much as the shirt. Of course, Mack had looked. She'd been looking the whole time. She couldn't help it. The more he tried to hide it, the more she was dying to see exactly what his tattoos looked like.

  Of course, he was always friendly, but in a timid and shy way. Mack couldn't help but think that it made him even more appealing. Men who looked like underwear models were supposed to act like Colby. Not that Colby was unattractive, but he wasn't exactly her type. He reminded her of a Harley rider with better tattoos.

  That was the other thing she'd learned. With a line of clients steaming into the shop, she saw good tattoos, bad tattoos, and really bad tattoos. She saw piercings that were tasteful, and those that were good for nothing but shock value. She couldn't understand why the size of a piercing would be something to brag about, but Colby let her watch while they adjusted a plug, helping the client stretch the holes in his ears one more size.

  When he dropped her off Sunday night, she felt like she'd been living a dream for the last three days. Ryan kept the coffee on all night, and both guys had taken to bringing her a cup, each of them trying to be the first. She'd learned which tattoos were easier than others, and did her best to make sure that one of them didn't get all the tough jobs while the other got all the easy ones. By the time things started to slow down that night, they were working like a well oiled team. Mack just felt like she fit in.

  But as soon as she walked in her apartment, the reminder on the fridge brought it all back. Stage IIB cervical cancer. Sixty percent survival rate. Chemo.

  Through the front window, she watched Colby drive away. At least she had something to look forward to. She actually liked her job. She loved her art, and working at Sterling Ink gave her the excuse to use it. Now all she had to do, was figure out how to explain why she was going to lose her hair.

  The doctors said it would probably start falling out about ten days after her first treatment. Mack could accept being bald. It wasn't like she was vain. Hell, it wasn't like she was pretty enough for it to even matter. The only thing she was terrified of was losing the one thing that had finally gone right for her in the last year: her damned job.

  So, with a new determination, she found her way into her bed, planning to sleep the night away and start the next stage of her life, but her body had other ideas. All night she tossed and turned. Every time she was close to sleep, some thought would creep in her head, making her mind whirl, and pull her back awake. When the sky began to grow light, she just gave up.

  Her appointment was at eight. She'd been warned to eat something and drink plenty, so made herself a lavish breakfast: sausage, eggs, and orange juice. Sitting at the tiny bar, the closest thing she had to a dining room, she scarfed back the food before taking a long hot shower and finding comfortable clothes. A short sleeve shirt, to make accessing the veins in her arm easy, and a comfortable pair of baggy jeans would work for both her treatment and for work.

  Mack grabbed a zip up hoodie and headed through the door, refusing to pay attention to the sinking feeling of fear in her chest. Chemo was pretty standard now. She already had cancer, and this would help. Survival for her stage of cervical cancer was pretty high, so long as she treated it, so that was the plan. That's what she was doing. She wasn't a victim, she was going to kick the shit out of this fucking cancer and show it that Mackenzie Lawrence was one mean damned bitch. She worked in a tattoo shop after all.

  The session was much easier than she'd expected. Granted, the first attempt to start the IV hadn't gone well, but except for the bruise, it didn't hurt. She'd been given anti-nausea medication and loaded up with two different types of drugs. While the poison dripped into her veins, Mack finally managed to get a bit of sleep.

  Things seemed to be going well. The nurse woke her, removed the catheter, gave her a handful of brochures and phone numbers, and she was done. Thirty minutes early even! She felt great as she walked out of the clinic - a bit tired, but overall not as bad as she'd feared. She found a bus stop, and made the nearly forty-five minute trip home.

  She kept telling herself that it was the lack of sleep making her feel so tired. She couldn't think of anything except how comfortable a bed would be. That's how she ended up laying on the couch and letting her eyes slip closed just an hour before Colby was supposed to pick her up for work.

  A loud banging pulled her from a near comatose state. Confused, Mack tried to remember where she was, and it came again, this time, a man was yelling her name to go with it.

  "C'mon Mack, get your ass out of bed!" Colby yelled, thumping on the door.

  In a daze, she staggered across the living room and pulled open the door. "Fuck," she said, positive she looked like a mess. "I sat on the couch for a second, and passed out."

  He chuckled. "Yeah, and didn't answer your fucking phone either. Don't scare me like that, babe. Go fix your hair, I'll tell Ryan I'm running late."

  "Yeah," she grumbled, staggering into the other room.

  It felt like she was trying to walk through water. She found the bathroom, ran a brush through her hair, and debated makeup for a moment, before realizing that she was supposed to be at work in just ten minutes. Instead, she just splashed water on her face and added a flick of mascara, enough so she didn't look like the walking dead.

  Staggering back into the living room, she found Colby had made himself at home easily. One foot on the coffee table, he sat sprawled across the sofa. He heard her come back in and glanced over.

  "I can see how this thing would eat you. It's fucking awesome."

  "It's evil," she agreed, reaching beside him to grab her hoodie from the sofa.

  His hand shot out and grabbed her forearm. "What the fuck?" he growled, turning it so he could see the dark bruise. "Someone hit you?"

  "Doctor's appointment this morning. They took blood and missed the first time." Well, it was kinda true. They had taken blood, and run a few tests.

  "What the fuck time did you get up?" he asked.

  Mack just shook her head. "More like when did I go to sleep. The fucking appointment was at eight. I'm as good as I'm going to get. Lets go before Ryan finds a reason to fire me on my first week."

  Colby nodded and peeled himself out of the couch. Together, they made their way to his truck. She had to work to keep up. It felt like he was power walking, but she knew it was her own exhaustion. On the drive there, she felt her eyes wanting to close, and struggled to fight it.

  Mondays were relatively slow, but they still had a few clients from the weekend who needed a second session or those who'd been put off. A steady trickle started around three o'clock, but oddly slowed down not long after the sun set. It was d
uring the first lull that she caught herself trying to doze off.

  Her elbow was propped on the desk, with her chin in her hand, and her eyes began to slip closed. She was nearly asleep before she knew it. Her head began to lean to the side, causing her to jerk awake quickly. Sucking in a breath, her heart racing, she checked to see if anyone had noticed. Colby was at the back of the room messing with his equipment again, and Ryan was no where to be seen.

  Rubbing her face, she pulled the large board with Colby's back section out, and decided drawing would keep her awake. She'd made a few lines, and had almost found the zone, when she began to feel warm and bloated. Very warm. It had to be the hoodie, so she peeled out of it, draping it over her chair, and tried to start again.

  One line, then the next, the vines tried to fight the mechanization of their oasis. Mack carefully edged each leaf, adding a few thorns and simple flowers, as if the vegetation was mutating when it touched the geometrical lines. She blocked out the way her body was feeling, and her mind finally start to cooperate.

  The smell hit her only a second before the cup touched the desk.

  Mack dropped the drawing board and shoved herself out of the chair, rushing down the hallway as her stomach revolted. The coffee. The smell of it. She couldn't take it. Unfortunately, her desk was on the complete opposite side of the building from the single bathroom, and with each step, her guts began to heave.

  Spotting a trash can just inside Ryan's office, she shoved her face inside and puked like a national champion. Over and over she heaved, nearly crying with the pain of her body's revolt.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder, another at the base of her neck grabbing her hair, then heard Ryan's voice. "Mack?" She just shook her head and retched again. "Fuck, grab her a cloth and a glass of water or something," he said. She could only assume he was talking to Colby.

  She puked yet again.

  "Mack, you gonna be ok?"

  She nodded, her eyes closed, on her knees praying to a plastic trashcan in the hall of her work place. Her oh so sexy superman of a boss was holding her hair back. With a deep sigh, she wiped the heel of her hand across her mouth and tried to sit up, wishing she was anywhere else.