Seven Years of Bad Luck (11 page)

“You know this chick, Tuck?”

I glared at him. “I am not a chick. My name is Kat, and I would appreciate it if you would use it. Do you treat all of your customers with this much hospitality?”

He smirked at me then returned a look to Tucker.

“Yeah, I know her” Tucker said to the man prompting him to return his attention to the work in front of him.

“So, Tucker huh?”

“Yep, that’s me, but everyone calls me Tuck. You want some ink done, huh?”

“Yes. I was told you are the best in town, and I need the right artist to tattoo me.”

He nodded his head and motioned for me to follow him to the back of the parlor. I followed him into a small office. I sat in a chair in front of his desk, and he took his seat behind it. Tucker was attractive. He had slightly long, shaggy dirty blonde hair that rested on the nape of his neck and draped slightly past his ears. His body looked defined and I guessed he was around six feet tall. He had a short sleeve plain white tee shirt on paired with jeans that did a wonderful job of flattering his body. His forearms and biceps were exposed and he had incredible tattoos covering the expanse of his muscular arms and no doubt the rest of him. They were all tribal designs that seemed to swirl and sway across his skin. I admired his arms and the art that decorated them. After a moment of silently ogling, I pulled myself out of the appraising gaze that I had indulged in. I slid the art portfolio that held the sketches onto his desk. He didn’t say anything; he only picked them up and began looking at them.

“Who sketched these?” He asked.

“My friend, Fred, back in El Paso.”

“So why didn’t Fred do the work?”

“Because I left town. We just moved here.”

“We?” He looked up at me with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. My best friend, Cheyenne. We’re roommates. Remember the petite blonde you dragged out of the bar the other night?” He smiled a genuine smile, and I was surprised to see any expression of emotion from him.

“Yes, I remember her.”

“So will you tattoo me?” My question brought his attention back to the sketches. He stared at them a moment longer, then he looked up to me.

“I don’t usually do this, but I will make you a deal.” He closed the portfolio and set it on his desk to the side and continued speaking.

“I will do this work for you under one condition.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“This tattoo is going to require two sessions, minimum. I’ll fit you into my schedule and do the work, if you tell me all about Cheyenne. And if she agrees to go on a date with me, I won’t charge you a dime for the work. Free. You can tell her I’d like a date, but she can’t know about our little trade. Got it?”

I smiled at him after hearing his proposition and extended my hand to shake on it. “It’s a deal. But Tuck, why wouldn’t you just ask her yourself?”

“Simple. She’s out of my league. She doesn’t look like the type who dates my type.”

Wow! Guess he is smitten with Chey. This was going to be interesting.

After shaking on our little deal, Tuck said he would call me later to let me know when he could fit in my first session. I was ecstatic to get started. I had just enough time to get over to the second interview of the day, and after it was said and done, I wished I hadn’t even wasted the gas to drive myself there. The position that was being offered was a bit beneath me salary-wise. I had been a paralegal for four years and had an outstanding resume working for highly successful firms, but this firm was only willing to pay a salary that was more suitable for a paralegal with less than two year’s experience. I was beginning to worry that finding a job was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. The thought of having to settle for a lower paying job than what I had left was frustrating. I could only hope that the interview I had the following day would be more promising. Luckily, the sale of the home I shared with Aidan had made for a hefty deposit into my savings account. I didn’t like the thought of having to use that money for my regular expenses, but if I had no other choice, I would do just that.

Tuesday, May 21st, 2013. Day 224 since Aidan. I resented the alarm in the mornings. I firmly detested them actually. On occasion, I fantasized about taking the damned thing outside and smashing it with a hammer, melting down all the pieces, allowing them to cool into a solid form, and then smashing the stupid thing all over again. I reluctantly rolled out of bed after a less than great night of sleep and shuffled to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

I was ill-prepared for my interview that day. I never got around to researching the firm I was to be visiting that day. I knew only two facts about the firm. 1- The address, 2- The name, Chase and Associates. I recruited Cheyenne’s help to pick out an appropriate outfit for the day. I personally chose a pant suit that I thought was sensible and gave me a very professional appearance. Cheyenne practically tossed the suit into the trash while she muttered something about grandmas and something to the effect of ‘wearing that will make instant cob webs form on your vag.’ Cheyenne’s choice was much more aesthetically pleasing. She chose another pencil skirt, but this one was a really pretty graphite gray and came to just above my knee. She paired the skirt with a simple fitted white dress shirt with three quarter length French cuff sleeves. She completed my outfit with a pair of gray suede stilettos from her own closet. I allowed my long auburn hair to rest freely down my back, and I wore a pair of simple diamond stud earrings and my diamond pendant necklace. I wasn’t too concerned with makeup, so I applied my usual everyday amount. Blush to my cheeks, eyeliner to emphasize my green eyes, a double coat of mascara for my lashes, rose tinted lip gloss on my lips, and I was ready to tackle my interview at Chase and Associates.

I drove to the massive high rise building known as Kennedy Plaza. The magnificent forty-five story building was the home of Chase and Associates. I walked inside and miraculously didn’t falter once in my ridiculously high heels. I was nervous about the interview and was hoping it would be just what I was looking for.

Third time is the charm Kat. Don’t sweat it. Even if it isn’t the ideal position, you’re going to take it! You can’t live on savings forever.

I let out an exhausted huff as I made my way to the bank of elevators to be whisked upward to the forty-second floor. After exiting the elevator, I walked down a wide corridor to a large pristine lobby. My heels clicked against the glossy granite floor. An older woman at a desk in the lobby greeted me warmly with a smile when I approached her.

“Hello. You’re here for the interview. You must be Kathleen Cooper.” I was somewhat taken aback by her knowledge of who I was, as if I had one of those name tag stickers stuck to my blouse. I glanced around a bit and suddenly felt very dumb.

You look like a blithering idiot, Kat. Of course she is talking to you. Talk!

“Oh, yes. That’s me,” I blurted. The woman nodded and kept talking.

“I’m Joyce. I will let Mr. Chase’s secretary know that you’re here.” The woman picked up her phone and spoke to a another woman named Olivia, and a moment after she hung up the phone, the woman I assumed was Olivia walked out from another small waiting area off of the lobby. She gestured for me to follow her, and I entered into the smaller vestibule area. There were two long plush couches placed in the shape of an L. At the front of the room, nearest another large doorway was Olivia’s desk. She motioned for me to have a seat as she retreated behind her desk.

“Mr. Chase will be with you shortly,” she said in a pleasant voice. The phone on Olivia’s desk rang only a minute or two after I had seated myself on the comfortable couches, and she spoke into the phone quietly then hung up. “Mr. Chase is ready to see you.” Olivia got up from her seat and waved me over to the large door in the vestibule. She patted me on my shoulder and opened the door wide for me to pass through.

Upon entering the office of Mr. Chase, I immediately noticed the three large floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a breathtaking view of the city. I imagined how all the twinkling lights must look at night. Once the door closed behind me, I turned my attention to the far end of the room where, from my peripheral vision, I could see someone seated at a large desk. I turned my shoulders and was about to make my way to the man when I froze.

Oh. My. God. Someone shoot me
.

My feet stayed anchored to the floor beneath my heels. My eyes were wide in shock, and my jaw shamelessly hung agape. I could not believe the sight before me. It took me a moment to even register thoughts.

You look like a giant moron! Do something! Say something! Anything!

Turns out, “anything” was a bad idea. My inner Kathleen should have been more specific.

“You!” I said accusingly, far more high pitched and squeaky sounding than I wished it had been.

The man I knew as Ben, the Book Thief smiled wide without ever exposing a single tooth and arched his brows as if saying “surprise”. He looked like a wet dream waiting to happen in his expensive black suit with a simple white shirt and dark blue silk tie. My mouth watered from simply looking at him. I stayed put at the far end of the room away from his desk still in utter shock and trying desperately to come up with something intelligent to say. Then he spoke.

“Kathleen, come in. Sit.” He waved a hand towards the leather chair in front of his oversized, cherry wood desk. I stood where I was for a moment longer, then on shaky legs, I slowly walked to the chair before him and sat. I smoothed the front of my skirt and angled my legs from the knee down as I crossed my ankles.

Yeah, you better sit lady-like. No more naughty dreams about Ben. He might be the new boss.

I pushed aside my thoughts and waited for him to speak.

“It’s nice to see you again Kathleen.” His voice came out so sultry and smooth that my stomach clenched.

“You act as if you haven’t seen me in ages, Mr. Chase.” I sounded a bit shaky, but my emphasis on his last name caused a wolfish grin to slip across his face, and he leaned back in his chair with steepled fingers.

“Yes, well, nonetheless I am glad to see you in my office.”

“Well, something tells me that you aren’t nearly as surprised as I am. When did you make the connection that it was me interviewing for the position?”

“Ah, you’re quick, Kathleen.”

Impatience stirred inside me quickly snuffing out the flame of arousal that was building in me just a moment before.

“Come on Ben, don’t patronize me. When did you know?”

“At the emergency room.”

“The bracelet,” I said on a whisper.

“When I read your full name on the bracelet, I remembered having read it on something else just before my business trip, and I realized it was the name on a resume I had received from someone applying for the paralegal position at my firm,” he said coolly.

“So were you going to inform me of this odd coincidence?” I was becoming highly irritated at how manipulative he had been since he discovered my identity.

“I didn’t see the point in it. I knew you would obviously find out when you arrived for the interview, so why even tell you? Besides, you may have decided not to show if you knew who I was.”

“I would have come,” I blurted almost involuntarily. Ben’s smiled widened, weakening me further.

Pathetic.

“Soon enough,” he whispered just loud enough for me to make out.

“Wait a second… the book. You sent it to my apartment. You already knew my address from the information on my resume. You never got my address from the internet! You lied to me. You are unbelievable, really!” Ben seemed to enjoy my obvious irritation, which only infuriated me more.

“Correction, Kathleen.” He smoothed his tie down his chest effortlessly distracting me from even breathing.

Ah, fuck my life.

I inwardly groaned. Ben held up a finger to make a point.

“Yes, I gained the information I needed from your resume, but I did, in fact, confirm your information by using the internet.”

“Such a… lawyer!” I bit out. Ben chuckled at my lack of insult.

“Yes. I am indeed a lawyer and a good one at that.”

Arrogant!
I scoffed at his self-absorbed remark.

“So, when can you start, Kathleen?”

“How do you even know that I still want the position? I don’t even know the details of the position. Salary? Benefits?” He sat straight in his chair and with wickedly serious eyes and a stone cold face. He seemed to stare right through me, leaving me short of breath and aroused all over again.

I could feel a tingling down below my hips that told me clearly that working alongside the incredibly handsome Ben would be next to impossible. This, after all, was the same man who seductively stroked his thumb across my jaw, pinned me to a wall with his hips, and whispered in my ear in my apartment building. The feel of his breath on my skin and the silkiness of his voice caressing the heat raging just beneath my skin would be enough to make any woman insane with need. The thought of having to be the woman who was already hot for him and also, at the same time, his employee made me internally hyperventilate.