Tattooed Moon Read Free

interfere with the quality of their labor. I’m the only one allowed to have a shaky hand,” he joked, feeling like talking a bit after all. He was met with stony silence. “I don’t really have a shaky hand. I was just…well, never mind.” He huffed and ran his palm across his forehead, now eager again to put the awkward conversation to rest. “What’s your name? I can write it down and set you up an appointment tomorrow.”
    The woman hesitated, as if unsure. Julian was accustomed to this sort of thing. It was kind of like someone calling a rehabilitation center for drug intervention. They knew they wanted it, they knew they needed it, but the fear was overwhelming nevertheless.
    “Let me guess, this is your first tattoo?” He tucked the phone in between his shoulder and neck and crossed his arms as he resigned himself to once again engage the caller.
    “Yes.” She laughed lightly, a sound paired with what seemed like a sigh of relief.
    “Okay, look.” He waved his hand around, as if she were actually standing in front of him, face to face. “Like I said, I’m the owner, and I’ve had this shop for three years. I’ve been doing tattoos professionally for eight years though. We do quality work here. We’ve received a lot of awards and recognitions, I’m not really into all of that, but hey, that’s something folks like to know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “No one has tried to sue me,” he said with a grin. “Knock on wood, and that should put you at ease.”
    She laughed. “Well, that’s good…” He could hear the beam in her tone.
    “And I promise to be gentle, and give you exactly what you want.” He found himself morphing into his inner salesman, despite being dead on his feet.
    “You own the place and still do tattoos?”
    “Of course. I’m here practically all the time, too. Now, let me get your name and number, and you let me know when you want to come in.”
    “Mmmm, okay. My name is Milan—Milan Parker. I work until six in the evening, and I’m honestly a little concerned about Friday activity. I bet you guys are really busy on the weekends.”
    He shrugged. “Yeah, but privacy can be arranged. We have areas in the shop that can be roped off with a curtain and one room in the back for special situations.” He shoved the receptionist’s papers around on the front desk, until he’d unearthed the appointment book that he demanded still be done by hand. “Here we go…” He flipped the damned thing open. “…Okay, Milan, please give me your number and I can get you in, say…looks like I can squeeze you in for…” he narrowed his eyes as he searched almost in vain for a blank spot, “… a consultation at 6:45. Would that work?”
    “A consultation? I was coming in to actually get it. If I don’t, I’ll lose my nerve!” She laughed a bit louder, though her voice shook with the all-too-familiar touch of apprehension.
    He smiled and nodded, feeling himself become even more engaged in the conversation as the softness of her voice and the articulation of her words sounded rather sexy.
    I wonder if she looks as good as she sounds? Probably not…
    “I never give a first-timer a tattoo without a consultation first, Ms. Parker.”
    “Really?” She genuinely sounded surprised.
    “Really. Here is how my policy works.” He cleared his throat to unload his spiel. “You’d come in, we’d talk about it, you know, the design, the reason for it, all of that. Then, after you leave, I require a twenty-four hour wait time, and then you return and I do the work. This is permanent; this is for life. Not to mention, my work is not cheap in cost; it’s competitively priced, but you are going to shell out some money for a good, quality design. Neither my work, nor my two employees’ work, is lackluster, either. I hand picked them because they meet or exceed my expectations.”
    “Hmmm, well, that puts me in a predicament as far as me running scared. I think that is really smart,