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“Makes sense,” I comment, because it does. You don’t want clients coming at six am and complaining that we’re not open; I’ve had that at a studio before and it was a ridiculous.
I’m glad Lyra has a set time frame for work, it’ll make it easier for me to form a routine around Heather’s schedule and to make sure I can always spend time with her in the evenings like she’s used to.
Lyra finishes with the keys and looks up; she sees me looking at her and I shake my head slightly, realising I’ve been staring at her for a while now without thinking. Lyra blushes lightly and I find it endearing; she quickly turns away from me and starts handing out the keys to the other side of the studio first. She gets to me last and holds out the last set of keys.
“Here are your keys in case you have to work late and lock up; I’d prefer you didn’t though but things can happen.”
She’s logical, that I can tell, and as I take the keys my fingers brush the inside of her hand and I am amazed at how soft her skin is to the touch. I feel goosebumps raise on my arms and for a moment we lock eyes, blue and green, and stare at each other intensely. She looks away and walks to reception to talk to Sheldon who is starting to look a bit nervous. I watch as Lyra assures him that he’ll be fine and goes over what he has to do again. She then claps her hands together and looks around. “Sheldon is still learning so I would appreciate it if you build up and break down your own stations for now. Sheldon will assist Lacy with hers so he can learn, is everyone okay with that?”
I nod although I’m surprised she picked Lacy. I would have thought as boss Lyra would have gotten Sheldon to do her station for her. She isn’t lazy, another thing I have learned about her.
I go to get all the equipment I need out the back to stock my booth and I’m insanely in love with how new and clean and shiny everything is. The CDO in me is amazing. Doctors call it OCD, but I prefer it in alphabetical order.
It takes two trips for me to get everything to my station and stocked in the drawers like I want them. I glance at the time, ten minutes until opening. Everyone else seems to be done so I sit back down. No sooner have I sat down when Lyra asks everyone to come to the reception desk.
“It’s going to be a bit hectic today, so I’m going to ask everyone to make their own books and just let Sheldon know to fill them in for you. I don’t want to overload Sheldon all at once,” she explains and smiles at Sheldon, “I want to ease him into everything, so aside from helping Lacy with her station, he’ll be handling phone calls and email appointments. You can tell him what you’re booking and he’ll fill it in the diary.” Lyra glances at her watch which makes me look at mine and I see it’s one minute to nine.
“Everyone ready?” she asks us and I nod, ready to grab all my clients as they walk in. Lyra opens the doors wide and invites the clients in. There are more clients than there were earlier and I’m really glad that we’re getting a good start to business.
I quickly wave down my clients, there are five, and I take them to my booth to schedule their appointments so I can tell Sheldon.
“Alright Ashton?” I ask my first client and he smiles at me.
“Alright JJ. Listen, I just want a touch up on my colour from a few months ago.”
“Let me see it then?” I ask him and he pulls up his sleeve so I can inspect the watercolour dragon I did on his arm. It takes up most of the space. I make a note that he didn’t take care of it, something I’ll chat to him about while I’m touching it up. “Okay mate, but this is one you’ll have to pay for.”
“Okay, how much?”
“I’ll charge you twenty five for the colour touch ups and any touch ups after that I’ll do for free.”
“Deal,” he takes his shirt off and sits down. I pull up my chair and wheel myself around to the counter where I prep all the ink I need as well as my machine. I put on my black gloves and grab some toweling roll, shifting back to where he is sitting. I hit the machine with my foot and the satisfying buzz that the needle makes sets me at ease. This is where I am best suited. This is what I’m good at.
The day blurs past in a hurry as I do the touch up, two fist sized water colours, and one tribal sleeve. One of the other artists, I think her name is Cindy, comes to watch me do the sleeve and smiles at me when it’s done. She doesn’t say anything, she simply stands and goes back to her booth. It seems we all had a few clients today and overall Lyra, our boss, looks satisfied. I peeked around the wall that separates our booths one time to see her doing a stunning geometric piece on a guy’s left shoulder. She has immense talent, I can tell by the way she handles her machine and her client, and I’m suitably impressed for the moment.
One tattoo does not an artist make.
At closing time, I sterilize my station before packing everything away. Everything has its place and I’m finished before anyone else. I want to leave. I need to leave. I check my watch and I only have half an hour to get home before Heather’s babysitter starts charging me double. I go to the back and collect my bag before going to stand at reception where Lyra is showing Sheldon how to cash up.
“I’m going to head out,” I tell her, swinging my bag over my shoulder, “Hope that’s not a problem?”
“No,” she responds, “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Later,” I say as my way of goodbye. I give the other artists an awkward wave before I go to my bicycle and climb on. I pedal as fast as I can through pedestrians and cars and get home with a few minutes to spare.
I unlock the door and walk in calling, “I’m home, thanks Rebecca!”
Rebecca, the fiery red haired teen from down the road who babysits Heather each afternoon comes out from the kitchen and smiles, “Anytime, Mr Kale.” She holds her hand out and I pay her with a smile.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” I say as I lead her to the door and open it for her.
“Daddy!” Heather screams enthusiastically and comes running down the passage into my arms. I lift her up into a tight hug and sigh contently. My entire world wrapped up in one beautiful bundle of sunshine.
“How was work?”
“First, how was school?” I respond, setting my seven year old daughter back on her feet.
“It was fine. Mary and Tommy had a fight at recess and Tommy chipped Mary’s tooth. Tommy was suspended.”
