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“I can do that.”
Xavier stepped back, and I took his place. The stool was warm when I sat on it, and it was touching him, in an indirect way.
The first client was Jason Lawler, and I dialed the first number while Xavier watched.
“Yeah?” His voice was deep and he sounded bored.
I used my most professional voice.
“Hi, this is Emma Kearns from Tattoo Workz studio. Is this Jason?”
“Um, yeah,” the guy said after a brief hesitation, like he was trying to decide whether I was a scam artist.
“I just wanted to confirm your appointment with us at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” I said, tapping the page with the pencil. “Will we see you then?”
“Oh,” Jason said, sounding surprised, as though he’d forgotten all about his new tattoo. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Okay, thanks!” I said cheerfully, and the line went dead before I could say goodbye. It seemed weird — my mom always taught me to be polite on the phone, and to say “hello” and “goodbye” at the beginning and end of every call.
“He hung up on me,” I said, stunned.
“It happens,” Xavier said with a sigh. “You can’t take it personally. You did everything right — how did it feel?”
I glanced at the plate-glass window that faced the street. I hadn’t expected to feel so exposed behind the desk, knowing that Nathan could walk past at any second and see me. Was that him? Wasthathim? There were pedestrians milling about everywhere, and even the movement of shadows put me on high alert.
Xavier noticed.
“You’re worried about him coming back, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “It bothers me that he knows where I am, but I don’t know where he is.”
His absence for the past few days hadn’t made me feel safe. I wondered what he was planning, and whether his absence was scarier than him trying to barge into the shop.
“Don’t worry about the rest of the calls,” Xavier said. “I’ve got another job for you.” He unlocked the computer and clicked through a few folders until he found the one he was looking for. He selected all and sent them to the printer, which almost immediately began to whir.
He waited for a few pages to shoot into the tray before picking them up and handing them to me.
“I’ve been meaning to pop these up in the windows,” he said. “To give people an idea of what their options are.”
The pages were all covered with tattoo designs. The top one had a series of smaller pictures, with a four-leaf clover, a butterfly, and a few abstract designs. Further down the pile, the images became bigger and more complex: a prowling tiger, a clock with human hands pointing at the numbers.
He gave me a roll of tape, and I got to work, plastering them over the window. At first, I kept space between them, but then Xavier showed me he wanted them to slot together, giving the window the appearance that it was covered with wallpaper.
“Perfect,” he said, as I arranged another six.
There was a thick bundle of pages in the printing tray now. I used them to cover the windows until there was no space left and they completely blocked our view of the road. After glancing nervously up and down the street, I stepped outside to admire my work — anyone who was undecided about what tattoo they wanted would have plenty of options to choose from.
And, even better, Nathan wouldn’t be able to see me from the street.
When I went back inside, Xavier locked the door behind me.
“From now on, clients will have to ring the doorbell and we’ll let them in. If Nathan turns up, he won’t get past this door.”
18
EMMA
Now that I knew that Nathan couldn’t get into the shop, I felt better about being downstairs during the day, and started helping out with the admin.
