by J. L. Perry
‘Morning,’ Candice says with a smile as she comes through the front door. ‘Whatcha doing?’
‘Just watching that guy.’
‘What guy?’ She looks across the street. ‘Oh, nice car.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
‘So what’s the go with him? Is he acting suspicious or something?’
‘No, nothing like that. He was parked there when I arrived an hour ago. Not sure how long he’s been out there.’
Shrugging, she turns and heads to the counter. Things have been going well for us—we’ve fallen into an easy routine, and despite these feelings I still battle daily, things are good. I’ve been working on her sleeves whenever I get some free time. They look amazing. The original version of Candice was hot, but the tattooed version is smokin’.
‘Do you want one of those pastries with your coffee this morning?’ she asks. I still buy a muffin and coffee for Brian on my way to work, but I’ve stopped getting one for myself. Call me selfish, but I love having Candice look after me. She found a small cake shop nearby that sells the best damn pastries I’ve ever eaten and now I’m hooked on them. I pull a fifty out of my wallet and pass it to her.
‘Sure. That would be great. Grab a few for the guys.’
‘Right,’ she says, laughing. ‘That’s if you don’t eat them first.’
As the morning wears on I find myself being drawn back to the window, and the guy across the road. My concern for him is escalating. He’s left the car and is sitting in the park under a tree. He appears to be drawing in a sketchpad. It reminds me of the one Candice bought me before I left for uni. It could just be my imagination, but he seems like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. When I look at him, I see myself, the guy I was before I got Candice back. Lost and alone.
I have an overwhelming compulsion to go and ask him if he’s okay, but I have no clue how to do that without looking like a crazy stalker. What if I’m wrong about him? His body language tells me I’m not.
I’m distracted by Gus escorting his client out to reception. She’s a pretty blonde, and, after she pays Candice, she turns and thanks Gus before heading to the door. Gus comes to stand beside me, throwing his arm around my shoulder, as we watch her make her way down the street.
‘I just inked a caricature of a devil on her arse. Fuck me, what an arse. I wanted to bite it.’
His comment makes me laugh. ‘I don’t blame you man, it’s a nice arse.’
‘You guys are pathetic,’ Candice spits.
When I glance at her over my shoulder, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disgust.
‘Well, she’s mine,’ Gus says. ‘You can look but don’t touch. You already have more than you can handle, Mr Chick Magnet.’ He slaps me on the back and laughs. ‘I aspire to be just like you one day, boss—the world is your oyster with your endless supply of pussy.’
I wish he’d stop talking. Before Candice started working here, the boys and I went out occasionally for drinks. They were always astounded by the number of women who would hit on me, so they started referring to me as Mr Chick Magnet as a joke. At the time I thought it was funny, not so much now.
In an attempt to avoid Candice’s glare, I take a step closer to the window. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I look across the street to the park. I watch as the guy lights up his umpteenth cigarette for the day. He’s definitely stressing about something. Nobody smokes that much—well, they shouldn’t. If he keeps going like that, he’ll be dead before he’s thirty.
That’s when I get an idea, the perfect excuse to approach him. ‘Hey, Gus, can I bludge a smoke off you?’
‘What?’ Candice says. ‘You don’t smoke.’
‘Yeah, boss, what’s the go?’ Gus chimes in, giving me a confused look.
‘I smoked for a while when I was in high school.’ I only did it to rebel against my parents, but it also helped calm me. Their constant demands used to stress me the hell out. ‘I still have one occasionally when I drink, or if I’m stressed.’
‘It’s 10.30 am. It’s a bit early to be hitting the bottle.’ He laughs.
‘Just give me a damn smoke,’ I snap, holding out my hand.
Gus pulls a packet out of his shirt pocket and hands me one. ‘Do you need to borrow my lighter?’
‘Nope.’ When I turn to Candice her brow is furrowed. She’s obviously surprised that she didn’t know this about me. It’s not the only thing she doesn’t know. Like my obsession with her. ‘If my next client shows up, tell him I’ll be back in five.’
I head for the door before she has a chance to speak. My concerns for this guy may just be my overactive imagination, but there’s only one way to find out.
Crossing the street, I head towards the park. The guy’s so engrossed in what he’s drawing, he doesn’t even notice me approaching.
‘Hey, buddy. Got a light?’
Looking up from his sketchpad, he makes eye contact with me. ‘Sure,’ he says. He picks his lighter up off the grass beside him and tosses it to me.
‘Thanks. I left mine at the shop.’ Once my cigarette is lit I hand the lighter back. I have the urge to cough as soon as the smoke slides down the back of my throat, filling my lungs. It’s been a while since I’ve had one. My eyes move down to the open pad on his lap. He has a real talent. ‘Hey, did you draw that?’
‘Yeah.’
‘That’s pretty good. Mind if I take a look?’
‘Sure, knock yourself out.’
He’s trying to act like he doesn’t give a shit that I’ve taken an interest in his work, but I saw the way his face lit up when I complimented his drawings. My admiration of his talents only grows as I flick through the pages. He’s damn good.
‘That would make a fucking awesome tatt. Ever thought of selling these?’
‘Nah. I just do it for fun,’ he answers with a shrug.
‘I own the tattoo parlour across the road.’ I point to my shop. Flicking through the rest of his drawings, I smile. To be honest I’m quite envious of his work. I can draw but nowhere near as detailed as this. I want to own these. ‘Fuck, these are wicked.’
‘Thanks, man.’ He smiles for the first time since I approached him. Even his body language has changed. I’m glad I came over here now. I know how fucked up alone feels.
‘I’m serious. I’d love to buy some of these.’ Truth is, I want them all. Except the few he’s drawn of some chick with her dog. I won’t be able to use them. ‘I’m always looking for new designs. You wanna sell them?’ I pause. I don’t feel comfortable leaving him here alone. ‘Do ya wanna come and check out my shop?’
‘Sure, why not,’ he replies, standing.
‘Jax,’ I say, extending my hand.
‘Carter.’
He follows me across the street and I grin when I see his face light up once we enter. His eyes are everywhere. I love people’s reactions when they enter my shop for the first time; it doesn’t look like much from the street, but it’s pretty impressive once you step inside. I put a lot of thought and time into getting the place just the way I wanted it.
As I approach the counter with Carter in tow, I see a smile tug at Candice’s lips. She looks him up and down. I can’t tell you how much that annoys me. It’s the first time I’ve ever noticed her openly check someone out. I don’t like it one little bit.
‘Candice, this is Carter,’ I say, trying to keep my composure.
‘Hi, handsome.’
What the fuck? I have to bite my tongue when she winks at him. What in the hell is she playing at?
‘Hey,’ Carter says, nodding.
I’m grateful that he doesn’t reciprocate the flirting. If she’s doing this to piss me off, it’s working. What if she’s actually interested in this guy? Maybe that’s why I’ve been so drawn to him—is he my fucking karma?
‘Check out these drawings,’ I say, passing the sketchpad to her. I’m trying my best to act cool. Pretending I’m not in love with her and trying to accept the fact that she’s free to
be with any man she wants is torture. I hope this gets easier with time, because right now I’m struggling.
‘Wow, these are amazing. Did you do these?’ Candice asks. He nods. ‘They’re great. Oh, I’d love this one on my arse.’
I see a smile tug at his lips when she points to the image of a skull on a bed of roses. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could handle tattooing her arse, but there’s no way in hell I’d let one of the other guys do it.
‘I’ll give you a hundred and fifty dollars,’ I say, trying to defuse whatever the hell is going on between these two.
‘I guess,’ Carter says, shrugging.
‘All right.’ I flip through the sketchpad and count how many drawings there are. ‘Fifteen,’ I say, leaning over to pick up a calculator off the counter. ‘That’s … two thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars. You happy with that?’
‘You’re paying me a hundred and fifty dollars per drawing?’ he asks in disbelief.
‘Yeah. Did you think it was one-fifty for the lot?’
‘I did.’
I laugh, shaking my head. This guy really underestimates his own talent.
‘These are good man. I’ll make more than my money back in one sitting. They’re going to sell well. I already know a few guys who are gonna love these.’
‘Shit.’ He smiles. It’s a big improvement on the sombre face he’s been carrying around all morning. Mission accomplished. If I’ve helped brighten his day, even slightly, then I’m happy.
‘I’ve got a client coming in shortly. I’ve gotta go set up. Candice will fix you up with the cash. It was nice meeting you, man,’ I say, extending my hand to him once more. ‘If you have any more drawings you wanna get rid of, you know where to find me.’
‘Thanks.’
‘No, thank you. Catch ya on the flip side,’ I say, turning away. I don’t want to stick around to hear the rest of their conversation.
Unfortunately, I’m not quick enough. Candice opens the register and starts counting out the money.
‘There you go, handsome.’
‘Thanks.’
I pause. I don’t want to listen, but I feel compelled to. Apparently I like to torture myself. Please just take the money and leave.
‘Here. I wrote my number inside. If you ever want to hook up, give me a call. I’d like to see what else you can do with those hands of yours.’
My heart sinks. Christ, why didn’t I keep walking?
Carter chuckles before replying. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
With that, I continue down the corridor. I’ve heard enough. What I really want to do is turn around and tell Carter to stay the hell away from my girl. But she’s not my girl—she’s my damn infatuation. Nothing more.
I close my studio door and rest my head against it, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Witnessing her openly flirt with Carter has really messed me up, but if I’d reacted like I did with that fucker, Jason, it would’ve only damaged our friendship further. I look down at the tattoo on my forearm.
A moment of patience in a moment of anger saves you a hundred moments of regret.
I’ve had this for a few years now. It was one of my first tattoos. I had Candice in mind when I got it. If I’d had this when she first texted me after I left, maybe we wouldn’t have been apart for so long. I take a few seconds to let the meaning behind the quote sink in. They’re wise words. After the way I’ve been acting towards her lately, this may be the only thing that helps me get through this clusterfuck.
I need to let this infatuation with her go once and for all.
CANDICE
THE MOMENT CARTER IS OUT THE DOOR, I SLUMP DOWN ONTO my stool and bury my face in my hands. What in the hell is wrong with me? Sure Carter was hot, but my show was purely for Jax’s benefit. It was a shitty move, but his and Gus’s conversation earlier cut me to the core. I’m not naive enough to think Jax isn’t seeing other women—the woman who dropped off his wallet was all the proof I needed. What upsets me most, is knowing I’m not enough for him. Why am I not enough for him?
I’m not even sure why I handed over my phone number to Carter like that. Jax had already left the room. Maybe subconsciously it was the push I needed to move forward? There’s been no one else since Jax, but I can’t keep waiting around for something that’s never going to happen. Friendship is where our relationship began and where it ends for us.
Jax’s silence for the rest of the day is unnerving. Apart from escorting his clients back and forth, I barely see him. Is he angry with me, or is it my imagination? I shouldn’t have flirted in front of him. Two wrongs don’t make a right.
By late afternoon, it gets the better of me. Heading down the corridor to his studio, I knock before entering. ‘Hey,’ I say, popping my head just inside the door and smiling.
‘Hey.’ He briefly looks up at me before returning to what he’s doing.
‘You okay?’
‘Yep. What’s up?’
‘Sophia wants to know if you’re coming over for dinner tonight.’ That’s a big fat lie—I want to know. Plus, Maddie’s been asking for him, but I’m not about to guilt him into coming over by saying that.
‘Sorry, not tonight. I have other plans.’
‘Oh, okay. I’ll let her know.’ My heart is heavy as I turn and head back out to the reception area. He can deny it all he wants, but he’s shitty with me. This back and forth bullshit is doing my head in. Why can’t either of us let go and move on? I don’t want to hurt him, and I know Jax well enough to know he wouldn’t want to hurt me either. But that’s exactly what we’re doing to each other.
••••
Jax is always pretty easygoing—he never stays mad for long. So when I head in to work the next morning, I’m ready to start the day fresh, to let go of what happened with Carter. But the shop is still locked up when I get here. Jax is always here before me, so I’m concerned. I have keys, but I only bring them with me on Tuesdays. Ten minutes pass, and just as I pull out my phone to call him, I see him approaching.
The first thing I notice is he looks like shit. Then I smell the alcohol—he reeks. Why would he be drinking on a weeknight? That’s not like him, and it concerns me.
‘Morning.’
‘Morning,’ he groans as he digs his keys out of his pocket. Despite how he’s obviously feeling, he smiles as he holds the door open for me, and that tells me we’re okay again.
Well, we are until Gus walks through the door five minutes later.
‘I’m not worthy … I’m not worthy,’ Gus chants as he crosses the shop floor and bows down before Jax. Gus is a good guy, but can be a bit overbearing sometimes. He’s like a gentle giant, prankster and big kid all rolled into one.
‘Fuck off, Gus,’ Jax snaps. ‘I’m not in the mood for your shit today.’
‘Man, I saw those two babes you left the club with last night. Fuck me.’ He reaches over the counter and playfully punches Jax in the arm. ‘You need to give me some pointers—how do you do that shit night after night? You’re like a real-life Arthur Fonza-fucking-relli, from Happy Days. They just flock to you.’ He lets out a boisterous laugh because he thinks he’s funny. Neither of us join in. In Gus’s defence, he has no idea about the history between me and Jax. I’m pretty sure if he did, he’d stop saying stuff like that in front of me.
Jax gives me a pained look, like he’s trying to convey a silent apology. There’s no need—he’s free to screw whoever he wants. I go back to counting out the float, trying hard to will the tears away. I can’t believe I felt sorry for that jerk a few minutes ago.
‘Stop being a dickhead is a good start,’ Jax snaps at Gus, before going to his studio.
I flinch when I hear his door slam.
‘What did I do?’ Gus asks, looking at me dumbfounded. He definitely doesn’t have the brains to match his brawn.
I just shake my head.
Thankfully, the rest of the day is uneventful, well except for my personal pity party. Jax has remained quiet exce
pt for an occasional word here or there. To be honest, it pisses me off. Around four pm, when he walks into reception to see his client out, my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognise.
‘Candice speaking,’ I answer.
‘Hey, Candice, it’s Carter. I was in there the other day—’
Oh shit. With all this other crap going on, I’d totally forgotten about him. I take a deep breath for courage before I speak. It’s now or never. This may be the chance I need to get Jaxson Albright out of my system once and for all.
‘Oh, I know who you are. You have the kind of face a girl would never forget. Have you decided to take me up on my offer?’
As soon as those words are out of my mouth, Jax’s head snaps in my direction.
‘Yeah. You still up for it?’ Carter asks.
‘God no,’ I want to scream, but I don’t. I can do this. No, correction, I have to do this.
‘Of course. Name the time and place and I’ll be there, handsome.’
Jax doesn’t even try to hide the fact that’s he’s eavesdropping on my conversation.
‘Tonight?’
My eyes lock with Jax’s before I reply, ‘Tonight sounds perfect.’ When Jax narrows his eyes, I divert my gaze to the floor. What am I doing? I’m moving on. ‘I get home from work around six. How about I meet you at eight?’
‘Great. I’ll text you my address.’
Carter sounds just as apprehensive as I feel, and that calms me somewhat. ‘Looking forward to it.’
My heart is beating out of my chest when I end the call. I take my time bending down and putting my phone back into my bag before I straighten and make eye contact with Jax again.
‘Who was that?’ he asks.
‘None of your damn business.’
‘Don’t fuck with me, Candice,’ he snaps as he closes the distance between us. ‘Who were you on the phone to just now?’
‘A friend.’
‘Male or female?’ Here we go with his double standards again.
