by Nicole James
She nodded and asked quietly, “Are you okay?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he huffed out a breath. “He’s right about the girl, and maybe I saw it.”
“But that’s your decision. Not his,” Ava argued.
“Maybe if you stick around, you’ll help him see that,” Liam put in.
Ava looked over at him. “Me? I can’t get him to see anything.”
“Bullshit,” Liam replied.
She arched a brow at him and glanced at the cuss jar.
He rolled his eyes, slid his hand in his hip pocket, pulled out a bill, and shoved it in the jar. Then continued, “He’s changing, Ava. Maybe you can’t see it, but we all can. And you’re the reason for that change.”
Max and Rory both nodded when she glanced to see if they agreed with Liam. She shook her head, not believing that for a second. “You’re all crazy.”
“Not seeing it, doesn’t make it not so,” Max stated.
She grinned. “More prophetic words from Maxwell O’Rourke?”
“Exactly.” He grinned, tousled her hair, and then pulled her in for a quick bear hug.
“Want to know my theory?” Liam asked.
“Do tell,” Ava replied, laughing in Max’s hold, but giving Liam her attention.
Liam’s brows lifted as he stared into her eyes and challenged, “I think you two like fighting, or maybe you’re both just scared of what would happen if you stop.”
The smile on Ava’s face faded as his words sunk in. Were they true? What would happen if they stopped fighting each other over everything?
Chapter Thirteen
Ava sat at her kitchen table, staring out the window. She felt like she was failing again. For most of her life, failure was foreign to her. She’d always done well in school, always been little Miss Perfect obtaining straight A’s. When she’d first set up her business, she’d studied everything she could to be sure it was a success. Her type-A personality wouldn’t let her do anything less. She’d always felt so in control of her life. At least she had until her sister had gotten ill. Then she’d felt completely out of control. She’d tried so hard to get her sister well, to get her all the medical attention she could, taking her to doctor after doctor, chasing after a cure for a disease that soon ravaged her poor younger sibling. Having lost her mother and father in the years just before Lily was diagnosed, the responsibility for her care had all fallen to Ava, the oldest.
She’d taken on the task with no hesitation. But with it, came her first failure, and it had been a big one. She’d been unable to save her baby sister, no matter how hard they both fought.
Now it seemed she was letting down the charity she’d created in her memory. She was about to lose this bet and with it, her biggest draw for the Gala. She hung her head. It was so hard to swallow, and it felt like she was letting her sister down all over again.
If only Jameson would see she just wanted to help. She wasn’t trying to attack him, but nothing she did was right in his eyes—he only seemed to see her as the enemy.
She thought back to the conversation she’d had with Max the day he’d taken her for ice cream. It had been quite a revelation into the inner psyche of the town’s golden boy. He wasn’t at all what she’d thought; he was fighting for his family. It seemed he’d always been fighting for his family, and that was something she could admire and relate to whole-heartedly. It touched something in her—made her want to fight for him, not against him.
She sat up straighter, an idea taking shape in her brain. Perhaps that was the key to all of this. Perhaps if she showed him she wanted to help him, truly help him, he’d stop seeing it as an attack. Maybe, just maybe, they could find some common ground.
Perhaps if he felt her true desire to help, he in turn would go along with helping with the Gala, not grudgingly, but enthusiastically.
Her eyes darted over the table. The only problem was she knew next to nothing about his industry, and if she really wanted to help him, she was going to have to change that. Researching and learning about a topic was nothing foreign to her, and now that she had a plan, it made tackling the challenge that much easier. She grabbed a notepad, flipped open her laptop, and got to work.
Chapter Fourteen
After closing time, Ava found the guys all sitting in the break room drinking beer. Max looked up when he saw her walk in, and he held up his bottle. “Can I get you one, Ava?”
“Yeah, come join us, sweetie,” Rory added.
Liam slid the chair next to him, patting the seat in invitation.
She smiled, her eyes moving around the group of four men. “No thanks on the beer, but there is something I wanted to talk about, if you don’t mind.”
Jameson leaned back in his seat, his arms folded. “Okay, shoot.”
Ava cleared her throat and glanced down at some of the information she’d printed off last night. “I know I don’t know anything about your business, but despite what you think, I really do want to help you.” She looked right at Jameson when she said it. “So, I did a little research last night. By little, meaning I was up until 2:00 a.m.”
“You don’t need to do that, Ava,” Jameson said softly.
She met his eyes. “I want to contribute. I think I can.”
“This is only temporary,” he reminded her.
“Hear her out, Jamie,” Max put in, turning to his brother and then nodding at her. “Go on, Ava.”
“I have some ideas here that may help.”
“Help what?” Jameson snapped.
“I know until a few short years ago there really weren’t any software programs specifically developed for tattoo and piercing shop management, so I’m sure when you started this business, there wasn’t anything available. And I understand that change can be daunting. The expression ‘why fix it if it’s not broke’ comes to mind. But I think if you take a look at some of the programs I’ve found, you’ll see the benefits can be substantial and help grow the business.” She passed out copies of the bullet points.
“Not just by simplifying the processes, but they can help you operate the shop as efficiently, effectively, and profitably as possible.
“They have tools that can help you stay on top of client data, inventory, artists’ schedules, just to name a few.
“There are features for appointment management that help monitor your schedules. You can even schedule appointments that will sync with your calendars, send clients automated text messages and email reminders as well as notify each of you when a client cancels. They’ll even allow you to manage your schedules from your mobile devices.
“There are tools that allow your clients to sign paperless release forms and receive aftercare instructions electronically. You can also keep track of the products clients buy for marketing purposes and which services each client receives. And as a bonus, all the client data you store in the program can easily be exported for health inspectors to review when necessary.
“The program also has point of sale capabilities that allow you to charge client’s credit cards, print receipts, sell gift cards and more.
“Then there’s inventory management. It can keep track of stock levels so you know when you need to re-order, and you’ll never run out of a product that’s critical to your business again.
“There are a variety of reporting functions that can track what marketing is working and what isn’t, view customer demographics and more. You can even run scenarios to see how much more or less you’d make if you charged hourly vs. by tattoo size.
“And lastly, if you were to ever own more than one shop, you can connect locations, and it will allow you to access data from a single database no matter where you are. You can share customer information and gift card balances between shops. If a client wants a product you’re out of at one shop, you can quickly check to see if you have it at another location.”
“That it? You done?” Jameson asked, seemingly not impressed or interested in any of it.
Ava lifted her chi
n. “You don’t agree that some of these ideas are worth at least exploring?”
Jameson obviously didn’t, he just stared back at her, uninterested.
“I do,” Max said.
“Me, too,” Liam agreed.
Rory looked over at Jameson. “Why haven’t we done any of this before?”
Jameson answered him, but his eyes remained drilled into Ava’s. “Because all this fancy shit costs money. Big money. We’re doing fine.”
“You just can’t admit that someone else may have a better way of doing things. I’m trying to help you.” Ava held his eyes.
“You’re meddling in things that don’t concern you. Goddamn, woman. You’re a pain in my ass.”
Her composure snapped. “And you’re a stubborn jerk with control issues.”
“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle black, now isn’t it?” Jameson bit right back.
“I do not have control issues.”
“Right.”
“Are you saying these ideas hold no merit?” She cocked a brow at him, challenging.
He clamped his jaw tight and asked through his teeth, “Is that all, Ms. Hightower?”
“Yes, Mr. O’Rourke, that’s all. I don’t know why I would expect you to listen to the only person in here who actually has business training.” Fuming, she tossed her material on the table and stalked out.
***
The brothers all turned to stare at Jameson.
“Goddamn, she’s as obstinate as she is hot,” he snarled. “But hell, I’ve never met a woman yet who didn’t try to make things more complicated than they needed to be. Why should she be any different, right?” He paused to look at his brothers, who sat staring at him with their arms crossed.
“You’re a fool,” Liam finally pronounced.
“Why do you have to be such an ass?” Max asked bluntly.
“What?” Jameson replied. “You want to pay for that shit she was talking about out of your pocket, Max? Be my guest.”
“Jamie—”
“You seriously want to change everything we do? Learn a whole new fucking system?” He glared. “Why the hell do women always think they have to change things?”
Max stared him down. “She’s changed a few things, yeah, but for the better. Ain’t one of those changes weren’t a huge improvement, same with all these suggestions. You just can’t stand it cause it’s not your way. You can’t admit her way is better.”
Liam shifted the toothpick in his mouth. “Why don’t you ease off on her? No reason this has to be such a fucked up situation. She’s good. Damn good. Treat that as a gift, not a fucking problem.”
“Jamie doesn’t want to uphold his end of the bargain, and he plans to make sure he doesn’t have to… even if that means playin’ dirty,” Max informed Liam, his eyes drilling into Jameson. “Isn’t that right?”
Liam’s gaze swung to Max, and then narrowed on his oldest brother. “That true, Bro? That’s a fucking shitty thing to do.”
Rory let the front legs of his tipped back chair fall to the floor with a bang. “Wait a minute. What bargain?”
Jameson tilted his beer bottle toward Max, ignoring Rory. “You got me into this mess. Thought you were so fucking funny signing that damned release.”
Max huffed out a breath. “Look, Jamie. Okay, you’re right. I may hold some blame—”
“Some?”
“You want to let me finish?”
Jameson clamped his mouth shut and silently fumed.
“I’ll make you a deal. You ease up on her, and I’ll walk the damn runway with you.”
“What the hell are you guys talking about? Walk what runway?” Rory demanded.
Liam chucked. “You haven’t seen the flyers? They’re up all over town. Big brother is Grand Junction’s most eligible bachelor. So eligible, in fact, that he’s being auctioned off for charity.”
“The hell I am,” Jamie snapped.
Rory burst out laughing. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“Nope. He’s the main attraction.”
“Fuck that,” Jameson grumbled, finishing off his beer.
Max stood up. “Come on, Jamie, if you do it, I’ll do it.”
Jameson glared up at him. “Oh, believe me, if I have to do it, you are definitely gonna do it. You’ll be right up there with me, Brother.”
Max extended his hand. “Fine. You ease up on Ava, deal?”
Jameson grudgingly stood and shook his hand, but qualified it. “Easing up doesn’t mean I’m gonna be a fucking pushover.”
The brothers watched as he threw his bottle in the trash and stalked out.
Max slid his hands in his pockets. “Five bucks says he’s gonna turn into a marshmallow before this is through.”
The men snorted, trying to hold in their laughter.
***
Two days later, Ava walked into the break room to get a cup of coffee. Jameson appeared to be fixing the small piece of countertop on the side cabinet that needed replacing. He had a new piece on the floor, and he was marking it with a carpentry pencil where he needed to cut it.
Ava glanced from the replacement piece to the cabinet and back again. It seemed obvious to her that he was cutting it too small.
“Are you sure you want to cut it there?”
He gave her a look of death over his shoulder. “I know what I’m doing, Ava.”
“It looks too small.”
“I measured it.” He turned back to what he was doing.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, Little Miss Fix-it, I’m sure. You want to make a bet?”
She folded her arms, thrusting her hip out. “Okay, boss man. Five bucks says you cut it too small.”
“Fine. Five bucks. Now get back to work and let me finish up without you bothering me.”
She marched up front.
Twenty minutes later, Jameson walked around to the front of the counter, stretched up, and nailed a $5 bill to the wall high above her station, well out of her reach.
Then he turned, glared, and stalked off.
His brothers came to stand by her station. She leaned back in her chair, her arms folded. They all stared up at the bill.
“Want me to pull the nail out for you and get it down?” Max offered.
She grinned. “Nope. I think I’m going to leave it there to remind myself how sweet this moment is—the moment Jameson had to admit he’s not always right.”
They all burst out laughing.
Liam held his hand out and high-fived her. “Touché, darlin’.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jameson walked past the piercing room and heard voices coming from the open door. He paused, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded.
Rory, who did most of the piercings for the shop, was holding up a piece of Prince Albert Jewelry in front of Ava’s face, and she looked white as a sheet, or maybe a little green around the gills.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jameson snapped.
Rory turned to look at him. They both did.
“Showing Ava our line of jewelry.”
“What the fuck for?”
“She’s got to know what customers are asking about when they come in.”
“No, she fucking doesn’t. She books an appointment or refers them to one of us. She does not need a fucking lesson in genital jewelry.”
He watched the corner of his brother’s mouth pull up. “You say so, boss.”
Jameson jerked his head toward the front of the shop, his eyes drilling into Rory’s. “Get back to work.”
Rory put the piece of jewelry back, winked at Ava, and strolled out, making sure to bump shoulders with Jameson as he passed through the doorway.
Ava looked nervously toward Jameson and made to move past him, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He wasn’t even sure why he did it, but he didn’t want her to go. Not yet.
“You got questions?” he bit out.
Her lips parted breathlessly. “What?”
&nb
sp; He reached behind him and closed the door, his eyes never leaving hers. He nodded toward the jewelry cabinets. “You got questions?”
She dropped her gaze to the cases and said nothing.
“You do, you come to me. Got it?”
“Got it.” She moved to leave, but he blocked her again. He nodded toward the cabinet.
“How much did he show you?” He could see the mortified expression on her face.
“Enough.”
“Enough?” He studied her closely. “Maybe Rory was right.”
“About what?”
“Maybe you do need to know just what it is we do here.”
She lifted her chin. “I know what you do.”
He smirked. “Oh, really. Does that also go for the stuff Rory was just showing you?”
“God, yes. Although, why someone would want to get their…their…” She gestured toward his crotch, apparently searching for a pretty word for it. “Junk pierced is beyond me.”
He grinned, knowing this was all making her nervous. “For sexual pleasure, Ava. Can you imagine who’d be getting the most pleasure from that?” When she refused to give him a reply, he answered for her. “The woman.”
She made no remark to that, but he didn’t miss it when her eyes dropped to his crotch again momentarily. Grinning, he moved toward the multi-drawer cabinet. It was one of those plastic multi-compartment organizers that held three or four dozen little trays or drawers. It was the kind of thing that usually held nuts and bolts, or maybe beads for crafters.
He moved his finger down a row until he came to the tray he was looking for and pulled out the little drawer. He dug out a tiny Ziploc bag and held it up. “Here’s something you might like.”
She frowned, studying the item he held up. They looked like little silver rings, except one side didn’t quite meet.
“What are they?”
“None-piercing nipple rings.”
That had her moving back.
“You’ve never done a rebellious thing in your whole life have you?”
She lifted her chin.
“I dare you.”
“Dare me to what?”
“I dare you to try them.”
