Traditional Change Read Free

other pictures, and Rebecca had looked right over it several times.
    "That's you," he declared, pulling the drawing off the wall and passing it to her. "I made that up after seeing your initial idea."
    Rebecca looked at the image and lost her breath for a moment. The flowers were similar, though they were far more detailed and there were less of them. Where she had focused on drawing actual ivy branches, Sawyer used a technique that suggested branches and leaves. The bird had been removed completely, but wasn't missed. The extensive floral system she had designed had been replaced with a more compact version that spread with new curves and angles. The effect would look sexy dripping down the curves of her back.
    "I like it," Rebecca admitted, "but you don't think I need a bird or something to offset all the flowers?"
    "Your pic," Sawyer said, holding up his copy of her design, "had this bird in the middle of the flowers."
    "Yeah," she said, feeling a little defensive.
    "Why?" he asked, setting the drawing on his desk and snagging a pencil. "Unless the bird means something to you, it serves no purpose," he explained. "You have to look at it this way: this is a piece of art, and your back is the canvas." Sawyer drew a pair of curving lines on both sides of the picture. "If we kept your layout, the bird would look disproportionate on your back—unless we lower it to match the curve in your waist," he added. "But then the claws of the bird are all over your ass, and it doesn't look as good as you might think. Leave your ass alone."
    Rebecca's mouth dropped open at the direct way he shared his ideas.
    "Listen," Sawyer answered, reading her expression. "I tattoo shit on people all day. Over and over people bring me their fuckin' baby feet, infinity symbols, ladybugs and fairies, and all that crap. And, you know, I take their two hundred bucks and send them on their way. You?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "You're talking about a big ass-piece that's going to take a long time, and cost a bunch to finish. I have no intention of looking at a shitty tat for eight sessions."
    Her mouth pulled closed, and she sucked on her lips while processing his statement. "Thanks," she muttered finally.
    "Don't mention it," he replied easily, sitting back in his chair.
    "But the flowers seem so large," she said, pointing at the pictures. "I'm sorry, but I kinda wanted smaller ones."
    "We want detail. Not just blobs of color on your back. The curves," he said, leaning forward and running his fingers down her back, "of your back need to be accentuated by the flowers… all the way to the top of your ass. It's sexier that way," he explained, slicing his hand down her spine to give effect to his explanation.
    Rebecca felt her cheeks and neck flush.
    "Trust me," he said, leaning in closer. She could almost see herself reflected in his green eyes. "You'll thank me later if we do it this way. But you know?" he said abruptly, raising his voice and leaning back in his chair. "It's really up to you. You tell me what to do, and I ink you for life. Your call."
    Rebecca paused while she gathered her thoughts. She didn't like being told what to do. It almost made her want to do the exact opposite, and yet he was the professional. She was paying him for his expertise. "I trust you." The words felt foreign coming from her lips. She couldn't actually remember telling anyone those words before. "Let's do it your way," she went on and nodded, unsure if she really meant it, but certain that she wanted to go forward before she changed her mind.
    "And you like this version?" Sawyer verified, as cool and calm as ever.
    "Yep," she said in a small, strained voice. Rebecca bobbed her head and stared at the paper in the artist's hand.
    "Great," he responded, standing up. "The chair," he said, gesturing to the tattoo chair against the wall opposite his desk. It looked like an inclined workout bench. "It's been all cleaned and ready. I'm going to go blow this up. Take off your