Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Seriously.”
“Yep. I’ve booked her in for a consultation later.”
“Your first customer is a celebrity. Those guys are going to love you!”
“Well, she’s not paying yet, but if she likes what they suggest, I guess she will be.”
“Can I come too?”
Oh my goodness. Dawn and Luna. I’m not sure what that combination will look like, but I can’t say no to the girl who got me the job in the first place. “Of course. Just come back at five pm.”
At 5 pm, I leave the store by the front door with my soon-to-be-ex manager still scowling. Dawn is leaning up against the wall outside, grinning at something on her phone, and perfectly on time, as a black limousine with heavily tinted windows pulls up at the curb. The front window lowers, and a man in dark glasses nods in my direction.
“My friend is coming with us,” I say, waving to get Dawn’s attention. This is all suddenly feeling really inappropriate, but I’m in too deep to reverse. The bodyguard throws open the door, drawing himself up to an impressive height, glancing up and down the street like he’s expecting an ambush.
Another window lowers at the back, and Luna leans closer. “That’s fine. Jump in.”
“Oh my God,” Dawn whispers, seriously star-struck for the first time in her life. I think it’s because Luna’s biggest hit came out when Dawn was going through a bad breakup and the words really resonated.
I pull open the door, finding Luna flanked by two bodyguards inside. There’s another opposite and, thankfully, enough spare seats for Dawn and me.
When we’re inside, the door slams behind us and locks click into place.
For a few seconds, while my eyes adjust to the low light, I gaze around. It’s not just a car. It’s a whole different world. Total luxury and anonymity rolled into one.
“Thank you so much for coming with me,” Luna says. “I’m really nervous.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Dawn says, her voice suddenly a whole pitch higher than usual. “The guys are really nice, and they do exactly what you ask for.”
“That’s just it,” Luna says, turning her hands over, so her palms face the sky. “I don’t really have an idea of what I want.”
“Why are you getting the tattoo, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Luna blinks slowly, drawing in a deep breath as though she’s trying to push down something painful. “My brother passed. I want something so that he’s always with me.”
I frown, wondering if I knew that about her. The news is always bubbling with celebrity gossip, but so much about Luna has been the narrative about her humble beginnings; a Cinderella story of sorts, and the rest has been about her unconventional relationship. “I’m sure if you talk to them about him, they’ll be able to come up with lots of ideas.” Dawn nods firmly, so confident that my new employers are going to come through. I wish I had the same certainty.
Before Luna has a chance to reply, we’re already outside Ink Factor. She shuffles forward on the seat, leaning to look at the place, her rounded pregnant belly getting in the way. “I guess this is it.”
“It’ll be fine,” one of the bodyguards says, but then he puts a hand on her knee, squeezing reassuringly, and it seems more intimate than professional.
Luna catches me staring and smiles. “This is Hudson. He’s got more tattoo experience than me. He’s come along to help me decide.”
The door is pulled open from the outside, and Dawn and I escape its depths first, followed by the bodyguards, Luna, and then Hudson. I’m immediately struck by how tiny she is. There’s definitely a larger-than-life persona that comes with being a celebrity.
“You ready?” I ask her.
“As I’ll ever be.”
I take the lead, opening the door to my new place of work, probably more nervous than Luna. The music is something heavy with lots of drums and rising guitar melodies. The sound of the tattoo machines is a low hum, and even lower are the deep voices of my coworkers as they talk to their clients. Carl is at the desk, clutching a handful of papers, the frown between his brows so deep that it would rival the Grand Canyon.
When his cool blue eyes flick up, he’s quick to straighten at the sight of all the burly bodyguards. When his gaze lands on me, his shoulders sink with what looks like relief. “There you are, Kyla,” he says. “Please tell me you’ve come to deal with this?”
“Not until next week,” I say sweetly. “I’m here with Luna Evans. I called and booked her in earlier.”
“Luna Evans.” He uses his index finger to sweep down the messy appointments book, finding her name. Glancing up again, he surveys the group, and I see the moment he recognizes that the Luna Evans I’m talking about isn’t just an ordinary client. “She’s with Noah,” Carl says. “But I’m free to assist in any way.”