Seven Years of Bad Luck (12 page)

I could be professional around this guy without jumping his bones. Hell yes, I could be professional. I am not the weak, submissive, accommodating Kat anymore. No bullshit from assholes ever again!

His stern voice roused me from my private pep talk. “Kathleen, my firm is highly successful and offers excellent pay and benefits to employees. I assure you that you won’t find better. You want the job.” The double entendre of “won’t find better” did not escape me. He stood from his chair and made his way around his desk. My heart thumped rapidly when he came to a stop in front of the chair where I sat. His fingers came to my face and made a slow path along the line of my jaw. His thumb went to my bottom lip and made one sweep across my parted lips. “You want it,” he rumbled deeply.

Hell yes I do! If the amount of pure sex that drips off of you is any indication… I’m positive I couldn’t find better.

I could feel the heat spreading across my face due to my own naughty thoughts, and it made me want to hide from him. He noticed my blush, and a smug smile curled up the corners of his mouth.

“If you are offering the job, I will take it, but only because the other two firms I applied to were not what I was looking for,” I said while doing my best to sound confident.

“Oh I’m sure they definitely were not what you were looking for Kathleen.”

Gotta get out of here!

“Uh, um… w-when do you want me, I mean need me…”
Jesus!
“When should I start?”

If the look on his face was any indication of how thoroughly adolescent I sounded, I was positive that he was amused with my obvious unease.

“You will come in tomorrow and complete paper work with the HR department and then come to my office and we will sort out your office.” He rounded his desk and sat back down in his leather chair.

“Fine, Mr. Chase. I will see you tomorrow then.”

I practically ran from Ben’s office in a panic about all the feelings this man was capable of eliciting from me. I got into my little Honda and cranked up music from my iPod

My cell phone rang just before I was about to park and escape to my apartment. I answered it and put it on speaker. It was Tucker informing me that he had a client cancel on him, and he could start on the outline of my tattoo this afternoon. With the excitement of getting my tattoo started, I quickly forgot all about my new job and my new boss.

I arrived at Tucker’s shop with a few minutes to spare and waited nervously to begin the session. No one knew the motivation behind the tattoo I so desperately wanted. I was beginning to wonder if Tucker would inquire about it, and if he didn’t, should I spill the beans so he would know exactly how important it was? In the back of my mind, I also wondered how much information about Cheyenne I should give Tucker. I didn’t even really know the guy, and although he seemed nice enough and I didn’t get a creepy vibe off of him, he was still a stranger, for all intents and purposes. Besides, Cheyenne’s business was her own. Who was I to dish on her to someone else?

But I had already made the deal, and I was a woman of my word. I would just have to be careful about what I said so that Cheyenne wouldn’t feel betrayed or overexposed. I would never intentionally hurt my friend, and I knew there were parts of her life she simply didn’t like to talk about; I respected that.

“I’m ready when you are,” Tucker said as I settled across the leather upholstered table face-down, only my arms concealing my bare breasts before the table shielded me. Luckily, Tucker was nice enough to pull a privacy screen in front of his work station at the rear of the parlor. It successfully provided me with protection from prying eyes.

“Okay, let’s do this.” My breath was thick with trepidation as it sputtered in and out of my lungs unevenly.

Don’t back out, Kat. This is important. You promised yourself.

Tucker must have noticed my uneasiness, because he paused to reassure my nerves while he prepared his tray of supplies.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to love it once it’s done. We’re only doing the outline today, then we’ll let your skin heal before we do another session.” His voice was reassuring, and it did the trick to calm my nerves.

Well, Kat, this is your first one. You chose a hell of a tattoo. Go big or go home, right?

I made myself comfortable and tried to relax. Tucker sat beside the table, and with one quick flick of his foot, he pressed down on the pedal that operated the tattoo machine. It buzzed so loudly that it startled me at first, but the vibrating noise enveloped my ears and my body. A sense of fulfillment and atonement filled me all at once with the precise thrust of the needle penetrating my skin at a rapid pace.

The burning sensation that raced across my flesh was painful, and it reminded me of the pain I had endured over the past seven years. The pain I felt from the tattoo machine that was humming steadily in my ear was a discomfort that I embraced wholly and held tightly to.

With each passing stroke that drew blood and permanently marked my flesh with ink, I was reminded that I was alive and free to finally reclaim my heart and soul from the icy grips of despair and loss. Drastic measures to feel alive? Perhaps. Was it necessary? Absolutely.

Knowing that the ink on my skin would be there forever would provide me with a permanent reminder of what I had done to myself and what I had allowed someone else to do to me. I hoped that having it there would keep me away from ever repeating that history. Above the lower portion of the tattoo that represented my past would be the part that represented my future and what I had hoped to be.

“Gonna tell me the story behind this?” I could tell Tucker was curious about the unique design that he was skillfully applying to my skin. It spread top to bottom from my shoulders down to just barely above my waistband. The entire thing was massive, yet unique and intriguing.

“I don’t mind telling you the story.”

He sat silent while steadily creating the masterpiece on my back. “I was married once before. So was Cheyenne. We both managed to pick real winners in the men we willingly devoted so much of ourselves to. They never deserved anything from either of us.” I took in a deep breath while willing myself to keep talking. I told him about all the terrible things that I had seen and dealt with during my seven year marriage to Aidan-everything from the child I had lost, to the lonely birthdays, to the painful infidelity. I explained to him who I used to be and who I had ended up being. “So, the silhouetted woman on the lower half of my back is me. Was me, still somewhat is me. She has empty eyes to show her sadness. Her skin is dull and lifeless. Her hair is stringy and unkempt. Her wrists are bound in front of her to show how she is a prisoner of sorts. The mirror in her hand represents the reflection of herself that was broken. The biomechanical scene all around the woman symbolizes the mechanical and robotic aspect of the life she used to lead. The ropes that tangle and trail up my spine represent the bonds that kept her, me really, immobile, the seven overhand knots ascending the rope are for each of the seven years that I spent living like that. Lastly, but most importantly, the large blue bird with wings fully spread is the best picture of myself that I could think up.” I sighed, careful not to move too much.

“What about the little red rose blossom?” Tucker asked, and my heart squeezed while I remembered the baby that never came to be.

“The child that I lost was due to be born in the month of June, and the small red rose blossom is the reminder that even though my baby never made it to this world, he or she existed and will always be my first child. I wanted the rose tucked under the left wing of the bluebird, flush against the bird’s body because I’ll never get to hold my first child flush to my body. I guess it’s a way to hold her… or him. It’s the closest I’ll ever get.” Tears spilled over the rim of my eyes, and I let them fall freely while remembering the utter heartbreak that losing my child caused.

“The tattoo will make it impossible for me to forget everything.”

“I’m so sorry. Sounds like you were dealt a bad hand,” was Tucker’s response to my story. Once he had finished the entire outline of my tattoo he carefully wiped away excess ink and applied a liberal amount of ointment to my skin. He directed me to a large mirror so that could see it. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the tattoo perfectly outlined on my back. It was stunning and precisely what I had envisioned it to be. There was no doubt about it; Tucker was a skilled tattoo artist.

After covering the area with a light bandage, I gave my thanks to Tucker and left. When I got home that evening, Cheyenne was waiting for me in the kitchen where she was cooking something that smelled amazing.

“Hey Chey. Whatever you are making over there smells like it could send me to heaven at warp speed!”She smiled shyly and shrugged her petite shoulders. “Aww thanks. It’s nothing special really. Thought you might want something good to eat after your interview today. Speaking of, how’d it go?”

I took in a deep breath and readied myself for the story that was about to pour from my mouth. “So I went to the interview, and it turns out Mr. Chase of Chase and Associates is Ben. Ben is Mr. Chase; Mr. Chase is Ben. They are one and the same.”

Cheyenne’s eyes grew as wide as the cooking pan she was standing in front of. “Get out! Are you joking? What did you do? Did you get the job? Wow, Kat what are the odds?” I shrugged my shoulders in bewilderment.

“I took the job. I start tomorrow. I’m not sure getting the outline of this tattoo done the day before I begin a new job was the smartest thing I have done in recent history.”

Cheyenne’s eyes grew even wider at my admission. “Oh my God! Let me see.” I turned away from her and lifted my shirt to expose my back. She carefully peeled away the bandages and retreated a step to get a good look. I glanced at her over my shoulder. She gasped and covered her open mouth with her hand once she took in the sight of Tuckers talent. I didn’t say anything. I waited for Cheyenne to speak.

“Kat,” she whispered. “It’s… it’s so beautiful and huge! Geez, Kat, I know you said you were getting this tattoo, but you never said how big it was going to be, and you still haven’t told me what it’s all about. Spill it.” Cheyenne put the bandages back in place, and I straightened my top then began explaining. She didn’t have much to say, just gave the occasional head nod. After I was done, she hugged me with care, managing to avoid the tender flesh of my back. “It’s incredible, really. I love it, and it means a lot to you. I can’t wait to see it once it’s finished.”

Speaking of the tattoo.

“You will never guess who the tattoo artist is. Tucker Barrett, better known to us as Mr. Bar Brawl diffuser.” I pursed my lips together and closed my eyes while slowly nodding my head.

“The hot tattooed guy? No freakin way, Kat! How—”

I cut her off before she could continue. “I was looking for the best artist around, and some good-looking guy at that coffee shop I told you about approached me and gave me Tucker’s information. The guy said he was the best, so I checked up on it and sure enough, the guy is talented. You should come with me to my next session. Tucker is supposed to be filling in the tattoo. He said he wants to take you on a date.”

She clapped her hands in front of her chest and did a little jump.

“Yes! That would be awesome. Hey, maybe I could get a tattoo from Mr. Sexy tattoo guy himself.” She smiled broadly.

Oh, Chey, I am positive that Tucker would love nothing more than to spend some alone time with his tattoo machine and your bare skin
.

I spent most of that night attempting to get comfortable in my bed. I failed miserably. Between the new tattoo and my shot nerves over having to see Ben the next day, sleep remained elusive nearly all night. I finally fell asleep in the early morning hours and was close to being violent at the first sound from my alarm clock.

Wednesday, May, 22nd, 2013. Day 225 since Aidan.

Oh no. No. No. No. Shut the hell up noise maker! Please don’t be time to get up already!

I reluctantly flipped back my plush down comforter and rolled out of my warm bed, complaining to no one all the way to the bathroom. I knew Cheyenne would not be up yet, so it would be up to me to get to the coffee pot and whip up some liquid motivation. After my trip to the bathroom, I sluggishly trudged into the kitchen and started the coffee pot.