“Brother, she says you’re a fucking genius. Well, she didn’t say it quite like that, of course,” Trident replies, when we all stare at him. His wife comes from high society, so she generally doesn’t swear, although the day shit went down at the consignment store, the air was blue. “She said that adding the column in that would allow her to deduct from the proceeds if she had to get the dress cleaned has increased the bottom line.”
“I figured that they were giving all but twenty percent of the sale to the person who had put the item on consignment, so they shouldn’t eat the cost of ensuring it was clean when sold,” Specks states. “I’m glad that it’s working for her. Tell her to let me know if there’s anything else I need to tweak.”
CeeCee’s tattoo is running in the back of my mind and hearing Specks and Trident talk has me asking, “Do you know if there’s a program that would allow me to virtually design a tattoo?”
“What do you mean?” Specks questions.
“Okay, the client that came in today will get a rather large piece that’s going to cover her upper back, upper arms, and upper chest to about mid-waist,” I reply, using my hands to indicate the areas. “She has scarring from early child abuse and I’m designing a set of angel wings to cover it up. What I’m thinking is if there was a program of some sort that would allow me to input her details, like her height, span from shoulder to shoulder, as well as where the scars are located, I could create the transfer easier. Our copier has the capacity to split larger designs, but I want it to be as exact as possible. Am I making sense?”
Specks has been nodding the whole time and he says, “Give me a day or so to see what I can come up with for you. You can use her as a test subject, so to speak. Hell, I’ll cover the cost of her tattoo because if we can create this and possibly patent it, the club will make the money back in spades, brother.”
“I’m already doing her tat for free,” I reply.
“You usually only do that with your breast cancer clients,” Brooks points out.
“All I’m gonna say is there’s something about her, brothers,” I admit.
“Then run with it, Loki. You know what you’re doing with regard to the shop,” Poseidon states. “Do we have any other new business? The only other thing I can think of is with us actively pushing to relocate our home base, we need to decide if we want to expand any of the businesses or wait. I know the repair shop is busy too.”
Atlas, who runs the auto and bike repair shop with Reef, says, “As long as Brooks finds property that we can use for a shop down in St. Mary’s, we’ll be fine. Dutch and Asa seem to be holding their own when they come in, and Nate has become quite proficient with oil changes.” We all laugh at that because each of us pitches in where and when we can, but our prospects usually end up at the shop with Atlas and Reef. Apparently, Dutch and Asa know their way around cars and bikes, but Nate is absolutely clueless.
“I’ve got a list of shit to look for when I go down there, brother,” Brooks says.
“Specks, make sure that Orion and Brooks have the info they need for those skips. Brothers, as soon as y’all get it, I need you to head out. Those fuckers are bad news,” Poseidon advises.
“On it, Pres,” they reply in unison.
“Okay, if there’s nothing else, meeting adjourned,” Poseidon says, banging his gavel.
As we all stand, he nods at me, so I sit back down. Once the room is clear and the door closed, he looks at me. “What?” I ask.
“She got under your skin, huh?”
I look up at the ceiling as my hand scrubs my face. “Brother, how many years have I been doing this shit now? More than I can remember. I’ve tattooed folks from every walk of life including some of the most beautiful women in the world and never, not one fucking time, have I ever popped a boner around one of them. Not while tatting their breasts or their asses. Hell, not even that time when that one chick wanted her inner thigh right near her damn pussy tatted did I physically react!”
He smirks at me then his face grows serious as he asks, “The person who hurt her, have they been dealt with?”
“Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I just know that I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her that nobody would hurt her again. Then I wanted to ask who did it so I could go find that person and beat them bloody.”
“You’re fucked.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter.
CeeCee
We stopped by Momma’s house on the way home. It was the one we were raised in once she moved us out of the apartment complex, and even though we’ve been gone for a few years and on our own, it still feels more like home than our little cottage. Momma was so excited by our news and I promised her that I would see if she could come as well to watch the process. I suspect, however, that the two of them will get bored since it sounds like it’s going to take multiple sessions lasting several hours at a time. After we ate dinner with Momma, Patsy dropped me back at our place so I could get some work done.
The nice thing about doing transcription from home is I set my own hours. I’m a dedicated transcriptionist to four doctors — two who work nights and two who work days. Since I don’t sleep well, one of the last vestiges from my childhood, I tend to cat nap throughout the day. This works well for my clients since they typically have their patient charts transcribed and waiting for them by the next business day, even though I technically have a week to get them done. The pay is good and since I don’t really go anywhere, I have a healthy savings account. Patsy and I share a vehicle and do all of our errands on Saturday mornings. If I need the car for any reason, I either drive her to work and use the car or I get an Uber. It just depends on what I need it for as to which way I go.
As I listen to Dr. Cross drone on, my fingers flying over the keyboard, I think about the man I met earlier in the day. He ticks every box on my secret wish list of what I’m looking for in a man. The irony is, I’m too damn shy to act on anything I might want. I didn’t date a lot while in high school. I mean, I went to the proms and seasonal dances, but I usually went solo, although a time or two, I had an actual date. Sean Peterson was a nice guy, but we were only friends. There was never so much as a spark of romantic interest, at least not on my part.
Loki, however, caused my body to react in a way I was only familiar with when reading the books that Patsy claims I’m obsessed with. By the time we got home, I was happy to be alone for a little while so I could take a well-needed shower to ‘handle’ the ache he caused. It was more than his looks that elicited my reaction. I could tell he genuinely cared about the clients he tattooed and the compassion as well as the gentleness he displayed when examining my scars showed me there was a softer side to the man who exuded raw strength.
“You’re crazy if you think he’d ever look at you in that way,” I mutter out loud while saving my latest job. I look at the folder with my pending jobs and realize that for the moment, I’m all caught up, so I shut everything down and head into my room to gather my laundry.
I may as well keep busy since I’m not exactly tired right now. Once the first load is running, I strip my bed and remake it with clean sheets, then spray down my bathroom so I can get it scrubbed up. “Alexa, play country hits,” I say. As music streams, I continue cleaning until our little house is shining. Well, except for Patsy’s room, but that’s all on her to take care of because she tends to be a bit messy. After I swap the clothes around, I head back into my office to set up payment for my bills and also put in a grocery order to pick up the next day.
“I should really think about getting a pet or something,” I mutter. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel as lonely as I do.” Plus, I’d have something to talk to and take care of when she wasn’t at home. While Patsy and I are best friends, she’s a bit more outgoing than I am so she spends as much time away from home as she does here. I send her a text to remind her that I’ll be running errands tomorrow and receive one back that she’ll be home by nine at the latest. Looks like she’s staying out all night again
. I live vicariously through her adventures, that’s for darned sure! She’s not loose or anything like that; Momma M raised us to respect ourselves after all. But when she goes out with her other friends and they plan to drink, she always crashes on their couch instead of either trying to drive home or using one of those rideshare things.
With my bills now set up for payment and my checkbook balanced, I take a few minutes to scroll through social media, liking memes and seeing if any of the authors I read have any new releases. Seeing that a movie I’ve been wanting to watch will be coming on, I close everything down, make sure the house is locked up, then head into my room.
Just another wild and crazy night in my boring, mundane life.
Chapter Three
Loki
I’m sitting in the kitchen several days later, my mind on whether or not Specks has managed to create anything for me while I polish off a plate of French toast, bacon and scrambled eggs that the women made when the man himself comes running into the room, laptop in hand.
“You gotta see this, Loki,” he shouts excitedly as he sits next to me.
I wait while he opens his laptop, clicks a few buttons and then turns the screen toward me. “Holy shit,” I whisper when I see what he created. “It’s just what I was thinking.” There, on the screen is a generic body, front and back. He points to a section and I start filling it in, watching in amazement as the body starts to show the tattoo that I am designing. “This is a fucking game changer, brother,” I murmur. “Do you think it’s marketable?”
“I don’t see why the hell not. I mean, you’re not the only tattoo artist in the world who does cover-up work so it could revolutionize the industry. Do you see anything that needs to be tweaked?” he asks.
“I need to see if I can meet CeeCee at the shop and input her information. That’ll be the true test, don’t you think?” I reply.
“Why not have her come here? If you go to the shop, you know you’ll get sucked into doing something.” I nod because he’s right. I took today off because for once, I was caught up and as tired as I am, my plans include a whole lot of nothing.
“I can do that. Do you want to help me with this? Because you know damn good and well, I have shit technological skills” He laughs while nodding. “Good. I’ll give her a call once I finish eating.”
After I clean up my mess in the kitchen, I head to my room. First things first, if I’m gonna see the woman who has been on my mind since I met her, I need to grab a shower because while my day is pretty much wide open, I worked out in our gym after a five-mile run. Since I spend most of my day relatively sedentary, I make sure to work out several times a week in case I’m ever needed for a PI job. Gotta be able to run the bastards down who think they can run the system according to their rules.
“Hmm, think I better go with jeans,” I murmur. “I don’t think she’s quite ready for me in sweats.” I suspect that the woman who has no clue she’s going to be mine is far more innocent than I have been in many years. “Doesn’t bother me one bit, either,” I state, uncaring that I’m talking out loud to myself. “Whether I’m her first or not, I’ll be her last, that’s for damn sure.”
Yeah, as soon as you get her with the fucking program, that is!
Since Tessie already grabbed my dirty clothes, washed them then returned them, I take a few minutes to put them away. I’m grateful that the women who live here do this shit. I know how, but as busy as I am, I don’t have time. Hopefully, that eases some now that Canyon and Kaya are working. I open up the app on my phone and send Tessie some money. She claims I don’t have to do that; she doesn’t mind helping to take care of the clubhouse in this manner, but we discussed it in church and decided that if she, Riah or Chelsea did anything extra like that, we’d be individually responsible for paying them. I have no clue what the going rate is, I just send her a hundred bucks each week for doing my laundry.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up CeeCee’s contact information. Yeah, I’m that fucker who immediately programmed her into my phone after she left the shop the other day. Of course, my brothers will not see how she’s listed — My Angel — because they’ll drive me crazy and right now, I need to plan how to get her to see that being with me would be a fantastic idea. The phone rings a few times and then I hear her voice. “Hello?”
“Hey, CeeCee. It’s Loki. My IT guy created a program that I think will help me design your tattoo. Do you have time to come to the clubhouse today?” I ask.
“Um, I can, yes. I just need an hour or so to wrap something up first if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. I’ll text you the address when we get off the phone.”
“Okay. I’ll see you shortly. Thanks again, Loki,” she says.
“My pleasure.” Great, now I sound like one of the associates at Chick-fil-A. I hang up, text her the address then immediately go to my desk and grab the sketchpad I carry back and forth from the shop. Flipping the pages, I start adding to the design for CeeCee’s tattoo.
CeeCee
“Patsy, I need to use the car,” I holler out once I hang up from speaking to Loki.
“What for?” she asks, coming out of her room.
“Loki wants me to come to the clubhouse. It’s about my tattoo,” I reply. I feel a bit frazzled. One of my transcription jobs was hard to do this morning; the patient is in extremely poor health and I could tell that the doctor’s normally professional tone was off. She sounded as though she dictated her notes either while crying or shortly after she had finished sobbing her eyes out.
“Do you want me to come with you?” she questions. I can tell that she just started her weekly beauty regime because the mask she applied is still shiny and hasn’t started to harden yet.
“No, I’ll be okay. While I’m out, do you want me to pick anything up?”
“Going to dinner with the girls from work. Do you want to come with us?”
I’m already shaking my head. Most of the women that Patsy works with are nice, but there are a few who seem to look down their nose at me and it makes me feel uncomfortable. I think I’d prefer surgery without anesthesia to dealing with one of them. “If you’re doing that, I can call Loki and tell him we need to make it another day.”
“No, no. Sophia is picking me up. In fact, I’ll be staying over there.” I hold back my sigh because I think she’s trying so hard to fit in with this group of women that she’s doing things she normally wouldn’t do, like go out drinking all the time.
“Well, have fun. I need to get ready,” I tell her. As I reach my bedroom, I swipe at my eyes. Most days, I feel that she and I are as close as we always were, but sometimes, I wonder if she’s outgrown our friendship.
Now, let’s see. If he wants to discuss my tattoo, he may need to see the scars again, so I want to make sure I wear the perfect shirt. Digging into my closet, I find one of my favorites, a soft blue, three-quarter sleeved blouse that will go well with the hot pink camisole I just washed. I’m glad that I already took my shower since all I have to do is change clothes and fix my hair.
I wish I was as brave as Patsy. If I were, I would let Loki know that I’m interested in him. But I’m not. Oh well, in another life maybe I would’ve been, but I can’t cry over spilled milk or change the past. Since I’m not sure what we’ll be doing, I pull my hair into a high ponytail, then swipe on a little mascara and lip gloss. Checking my phone, I see that he’s sent over the address, so I put it into my GPS then slip into my flip-flops. It may be getting cooler out, but I wear them as long as possible.
“I’m heading out,” I say when I stop at Patsy’s door.
“Have fun! Oh, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she teases.
“You know me better than that,” I retort. “I wouldn’t know what to do anyhow,” I mumble.
“I know better than that, Cee,” she replies. “As much reading as you do, you probably have moves stored in your head. Besides, I saw how he watched you. I think he’s interested.”
“You’re nuts! He
sees me as a client, nothing more and nothing less.”
“We’ll see,” she says, smirking at me.
I wave her off and head into the living room to grab my keys and purse. “Have fun tonight, Pats,” I call out.
“You too!”
As I drive, I notice that there’s a new pet store that has opened and I make a mental note to stop by on my way home. I’ve been doing some research on pets and think I want to get a pair of parakeets. They’re highly intelligent, can talk and sing, and are easy to care for unlike a dog that I’d have to walk. I wish I could have a cat, but Patsy is allergic, something we found out when we were ten and brought home a stray. By that night, Patsy was covered in whelps and Momma M had to take her to the hospital.
I finally pull into the parking lot of the clubhouse and park, once the man who was at the gate lets me through. Taking a deep breath, I shut the car off, grab my purse and phone, then open my door. “Hey, CeeCee,” Loki says, walking toward me.
“Hey,” I reply, smiling at him. He’s pretty much dressed the same as he was when I first met him, except he’s wearing his cut that proclaims him as the club vice president, and he doesn’t have a backward baseball cap on.
He takes my hand in his and I feel a zing of electricity at his touch. My lips quirk when I remember the animated movie I watched, Hotel Transylvania. The lead character was always talking about feeling the ‘zing’ with his dead wife and how she was the only one for him. I wonder if that’s what he meant?
“So, what is this program you were talking about?” I ask.
“Well, I’m not gonna lie to you. I don’t fully understand it, but Specks thinks it’s going to take tattoos to the next level,” he replies. “Basically, I’ll input information about you. Specifically, your height, the span from shoulder to shoulder, then where each scar is located. It’ll then allow me to take my design and lay it over what the program generates so that I can create the transfer I’ll put on your skin.”
Loki's Angel: A Poseidon's Warriors MC novel - Book 3 Page 3
