by Jen Andrews
I hadn’t picked up the mail in a few days, so the stack was huge. I went back to my desk and absentmindedly opened all of the envelopes. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the weekend.
As I was sorting the mail into stacks of junk, bills, and magazines, I remembered I wanted to get my hair cut. I made a quick call to Autumn, my hairdresser. She had just had a cancellation, so she made an appointment for me at noon.
Standing up from my chair, I looked through the window to find my brothers still showing Andy around. They seemed to be getting along well. Not wanting to intrude on their ‘man time,’ I sat back down to pay some bills. Right as I finished, Andy came inside the office.
“Hey, Zoey, how’s it going?” he asked, smiling down at me from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries,” I replied in regards to his tardiness. “I see you and my brothers became acquainted out there. That’s great.” I motioned for him to take a seat in the chair next to the desk, and he came in and sat down.
“I have your paperwork and some other information to go over with you, and then we’ll get your uniforms ordered,” I said, trying to be professional. What I really wanted to do was reach out and— well…I really wanted to strip his clothes off to see if the rest of his body was as insanely good looking as his face.
Holy hell, Zoey! I took a deep breath and got my shit together. I went over all of his paperwork with him and filled out his tax forms.
“We contract with a company for your uniforms, and they’ll supply you with ten of them,” I explained. I glanced up from the paperwork in front of me, and he was trying to hold back a smile. Why in the hell is he looking at me that way?
He noticed my discomfort and gave me a big grin, his blue eyes sparkling.
Flustered, I took another breath and shuffled the papers on the desk in front of me. “You’ll be responsible for bringing the dirty uniforms down to the shop for pick up on Wednesdays, so they can take them to be cleaned. They’ll give you a canvas laundry bag to put them in, with your name and the shop’s name and address on it.”
I glanced at him again, and he seemed to be amused with what I was telling him. “What?” I finally asked.
“Oh nothing,” he said, smiling. “Please, continue.”
“What are you smiling at?” I asked, nervously. “You’re making me self-conscious. Is there something on my face? In my teeth? What?” By that time, he really was laughing at me.
“Nothing, Zoey, I swear,” he replied, still laughing. “It’s different seeing you at work than it is seeing you at home. Last night, we were all drinking, and you were relaxed and having a good time. Now, you’re all business. It’s a big change. That’s all.”
I shook my head and looked away from him. “If you say so. Let’s get your uniforms ordered, so you can get out there and get to work.” I needed to get this over with, and get him out of the office, so I continued talking. “Joe will bring your uniforms on Wednesday when he picks up my brothers’ laundry bags. Um, it’s going to be getting cold outside soon, so do you want long sleeve shirts?”
“Let me ask you a question first, if it’s okay. What is the tattoo policy here?”
Tattoo?
Suddenly, I was very interested in seeing the tattoo he had. I love tattoos. Leg tats, body tats, sleeves, back tats, tats on the ribcage, and on the sides of the torso were by far my favorite.
“We don’t really have a policy, so to speak,” I replied. “Can I ask what it’s of and where it’s at?” He raised an eyebrow. “Will it be seen by customers?” I clarified, so he would stop doing that sexy-as-all-get-out eyebrow-raising thing he did.
One of the last two mechanics actually had a tattoo on his forearm that said ‘fuck off.’ We figured he got drunk one night, and his friends did it to him. He had a slight drinking problem, so he didn’t work out for us.
Andy was wearing black work pants and a black long sleeved button-up work shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to a few inches below his elbows. “Yeah,” he replied. “They’re on my arms, but you can only see them if I wear short sleeved shirts.”
They? There’s more than one? Oh, God, I really wanted to see his tattoos!
“Fine, let’s see them then,” I said, silently hoping I would get to see all of them. “I am sure they are fine, unless they say something like fuck off or are prison tats, but since we’ve done a pre-employment background check on you, I know you haven’t been in prison.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Nope, no prison tattoos for me, and they definitely don’t say fuck off.” He tried to roll his sleeves up further, but they wouldn’t go over his elbows. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and took the whole thing off instead. He watched me the entire time he was undoing the buttons and taking his damn shirt off, and I knew he was totally fucking with me.
He was seriously taunting me with a shirt striptease. Evil man!
Damn, he’s wearing a black T-shirt under the button up. I can’t see anything but arms. Oh, but what fine arms they are…
Holy hell, this dude is ripped. I was finally looking at those muscular biceps I was so fortunate enough to grab hold of at the store. I realized then, he’d been wearing long sleeves every time I’d seen him.
“Well, here they are,” he said, smiling deviously. “As you can see, I have no prison tats and no bad language.”
He turned his arm back and forth, letting me easily see the whole tattoo. I gawked at his biceps, and he had what appeared to be solid black tribal tattoos, but not the typical American type. They were a series of bold designs, intermingled with fine, intricate patterns. They were amazing and unlike anything I had ever seen.
He seemed to notice I was intrigued, so he lifted his shirtsleeve all the way to his shoulder, where he had a large Tiki looking face tattooed with its mouth open wide and its tongue hanging out.
Hmm, that’s different, but so freaking sexy on him.
“Tribal?” I asked, a little bit in shock at the situation unfolding in front of me. This is definitely not what I was expecting when I got out of bed this morning. It was much, much better.
I reached out and ran my fingertips over one of his tats. He smiled at me, showing his perfect white teeth. Yep, that made me blush. “Sorry.” I was embarrassed, so I quickly pulled my hand away.
He obviously knew I liked what I was seeing. “I don’t mind…at all,” he responded softly.
I continued my inspection, without touching, of course. “What do they mean?”
“They’re Maori tribal tattoos. I had them done in En Zed,” he explained. “I spent about six months there shortly after my divorce. I hadn’t been back since we’d moved to the States. I have a house near Auckland that my friend and his wife live in, so I went back to visit them and decided to stay for a while.”
The next thing I know, he’d pulled his other sleeve up to his shoulder, showing he had just as many tattoos on that arm. Like his other arm, they encircled the entire bicep. I wondered if they traveled over his shoulders and onto his back and chest.
“Seen enough?” he asked a little provocatively.
Um, no. Not really. I felt the heat rising up my neck and onto my cheeks. My mind said no, but my mouth said, “Um, yeah. I think that’ll do. Short sleeves it is, unless you want long sleeves for winter, of course.”
Andy thought about it for a second, and then decided short sleeves would be fine. He pulled his other shirt back on and buttoned it up. Darn. I could’ve sat and inspected every tiny detail of his tattoos all day long.
“Okay then,” I said as I tried to get his tattoos off my mind. “Time to order your pants!” I declared, slightly ruffled, and really wanting to change the subject. “What size do you need?”
He started laughing hard at that point. “What? I don’t get to strip down to my underwear for this?” he asked between laughs.
Now there’s an idea... I wonder if he has tattoos on his legs too...
I realized then t
hat he was totally screwing with me.
“You are such a shithead!” I grumbled as I wadded up a piece of paper and threw it at him, hitting him on the chest. Yeah, it bounced right off. His chest was probably as muscular as his biceps, and most likely covered in tattoos too.
“I need thirty-six by thirty-six pants, please, Zoey,” he stated after he finally stopped laughing.
“Jeez, how tall are you?”
“Six-three. How tall are you?” he asked with a sarcastic grin on his face. He was toying with me again.
I wrote down the size he needed and looked away from the order form to find him grinning at me once again. “I am five-eight,” I answered, and then quickly moved on. “I think we’re done here for now. I’ll get this faxed over in a minute and—”
Hearing a sound behind me, I glanced back and saw my mom coming through the door.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, and then I introduced her to Andy. She carried a cardboard box in her hands, with two drink holders full of coffee cups in it. I would recognize that blue lid anywhere. She brought everyone coffee from Dutch Bros.
“Mom, you are a saint!” I took the box from her and set it on the desk.
She turned to Andy. “Andy, will you do me a favor and go to the white truck out front and get the pink box from the back seat?”
“Absolutely,” he replied happily. “I’ll be right back.”
I carefully pulled the drink holders out of the box, set them on the desk, and found my coffee. I took a nice long drink of it and collapsed on my chair.
“You made my day, Mom,” I groaned blissfully and began to take another drink.
“So, Zoey, why didn’t you tell me our Andy was so handsome?”
Our Andy? I inhaled at that moment and choked on my coffee, spitting it all over the place. She laughed as she smacked me on the back to try to help my coughing fit. After she stopped hitting me, she mopped up my coffee spray with a paper towel, while I tried to clean myself up and continued to choke. Fuck, I think it’s in my lungs.
By the time I finished coughing and was able speak again, Andy was coming back into the office, carrying a pink box I immediately recognized from Burrell’s Bakery.
He set the box on the desk and turned to leave. “See you later, ladies. I’d better go find something to work on. Don’t want boss lady here firing me on the first day.” He jokingly pointed his finger at me and laughed.
My mom laughed at his comment. Traitor!
“Wait a sec, Andy,” she said to him as he turned toward the door. “I brought you a coffee, and this box is full of pastries from the bakery. You’d better get what you want out of there before my boys find out I brought it. Otherwise, you won’t get anything.”
“Mom’s right. They’re pigs. In fact, you better take two, just in case.” I opened the box and hunted down a chocolate chip scone.
Andy seemed surprised by my mom’s kindness to him. “Thank you very much, Mrs. James. I really appreciate everything your family has done with the apartment and the job. It means a lot to me, and I can never thank you enough. Will you let me know how much everything cost for the apartment, so I can repay you?”
My mom looked up at him; she was smiling and shaking her head. He was at least a foot taller than she was. “You are very welcome, Andy, but there is no need to repay us. It was only a little paint and extra furniture. We’re happy you’re here, and please, call me Luisa. There’s no need for formalities with all this testosterone running amuck. Zoey and I are like one of the boys around here.”
Andy thanked her again as he picked up a napkin and took two pastries from the box like I told him to. He took a giant cinnamon roll and the other chocolate chip scone. That guy sure could pack in the food, but you would never know it as fit and muscular as he seemed to be.
Once my mom picked her pastry out, I stood and pushed the intercom button on the office wall to call my brothers in from the shop. “Hey, asshats, there’s coffee and a box from Burrell’s in here. Come get it.”
Through the window, I watched them drop the tools they were holding and run toward the office like a bunch of five year olds. Fearing for my safety, I sat back down on my chair out of the way. “You might want to back away from the box, you two.”
My brothers grabbed their coffees and left only crumbs in the pastry box. After thanking our mom and giving her sticky kisses on the cheek, they went back out to the shop, taking Andy with them.
For the next couple of hours, my mom and I worked in peace, catching up on paperwork and taking an occasional phone call. I decided to walk to The Speed Shop next door to see how the morning was going there.
Business was running smoothly at the store, so I went home for a quick lunch, and then drove across town for my hair appointment. Autumn sat me down at her station, where she draped a black cape around my shoulders and lap.
“Long time no see, Zoey. Where have you been?”
“Nowhere really, I’ve just been super busy. Business at the shop is going well, and so is my store, so it’s been keeping me on my toes.”
I didn’t want to give out too much information. You know how salons are hot spots for local gossip. Word had yet to get out about what Rob had done to me months before, and I wanted to keep it that way.
Autumn took out her scissors and a comb, and laid them on the workstation below the mirror. “So, what are we gonna go with your hair today, girl?”
Wanting a noticeable change, we decided to go with long layers all over, so I would be able to flat iron it, leave it wavy, or flip the ends a bit for a different style. My hair hadn’t been cut in months, so it was all one length and very boring.
After deciding on the style for my hair, Autumn suggested adding some highlights. I trusted her completely and let her do what she wanted. She brushed in platinum highlights where my new chin-length layers would soon be and added more highlights all over to give my golden-blonde hair a sun-kissed look.
The color needed to sit on my hair for a while, so I picked a magazine off the rack and flipped through it. I stopped flipping pages when I came across my favorite cologne ad featuring Paul Walker. It was even the ad with the scent sample, and I immediately thought of Andy.
I hoped everything was going smoothly at work for him on his first day. He seemed to get along well with my brothers, which was a plus.
Looking back down at my magazine, I caught sight of my fingernails and wondered if I could get a mani-pedi while I was at the salon. I checked at the front desk and made an appointment to get my nails done after my hair. I sent my mom a text, letting her know I was going to be a while longer at the salon. About ten minutes passed before I got a response back from her, telling me to take my time and that she had everything under control.
Autumn came over after her timer went off and checked my highlights. They were ready to come out of their foil wrappers, so she began pulling them out of my hair, and each time she did, she would smile excitedly and say, “Stunning!” She was thrilled, and I was getting excited to see it myself.
Next, she washed and then cut my hair. After there was a large pile of hair on the floor from my haircut, Autumn used a flat-iron to style my new cut. When she was finished, she spun me around in the chair to face the mirror.
“Well, what do you think? You’ve got some serious ba-bow going on now, girl!” Autumn said enthusiastically as she continued to arrange my hair around my shoulders.
Assuming that the word ba-bow was a good thing, I inspected myself in the mirror. She was right. I looked completely different. Aside from the slightly dark circles under my eyes, I almost resembled my old self.
“Wow! I love it!” I said excitedly. “The highlights made such a difference. Thanks for convincing me to do it, and I love the cut and style.” I was thrilled with my new look and tipped Autumn generously for working her magic on me.
It was time for my mani-pedi, so I picked out a fire engine red nail polish, and then slipped off my shoes and socks. The nail tech, Mai, rolled my jeans up to
my knees, and I silently thanked God I’d shaved my legs.
While my feet soaked in the warm, scented water, in the whirlpool footbath, Mai worked on my manicure. After she shaped my nails, she painted them, so it didn’t take long at all. While my nails dried, she massaged, scrubbed, and did a sea salt treatment on my feet. It felt wonderful, but the sea salt scrub tickled my feet like crazy.
She painted my toes to match my fingernails. When she was finished, I felt completely pampered, but it was time to get back to work
On my way home, I made a stop at the lock shop to have my lobby and apartment keys duplicated, so I could give them to Andy. That way he had access to my laundry room if I wasn’t home when he needed it, especially while I was in Cabo for a month and wouldn’t be there to let him in.
By the time I arrived back at the shop, it was closing time. I parked at my apartment and went inside the store to see how the day went without me there.
We were so fortunate we hired great employees. I never needed to worry about anything with them there. That was reassuring since I would be gone on my vacation soon. My dad would be around to help if he was needed, so it made me feel better that he’d finally filled the fifth mechanic position. At least he wouldn’t be expected to work at the shop and the store.
I headed across the courtyard and parking area, and then through the back door of the shop. As soon as I turned the corner from the hallway into the shop, Noah and Jeremy spotted me and whistled.
“Hey now, you jackasses behave yourselves. We don’t want the newbie to start acting like you two when a pretty lady enters the building.”
Did I just call myself pretty?
My new hair and nails must have helped boost my confidence a little. I peeked around, attempting to be inconspicuous, while trying to see where Andy was.
“He’s in the machine shop with Dad, if you’re looking for the newbie,” Noah teased, tormenting me on purpose.
“Well, I wasn’t looking for him, so wipe that stupid-ass look off your face!” I lied, embarrassed at having been caught. My jerk brothers busted up laughing and began putting their tools away for the night.
