Was he starting to overlook me just like everyone else?
Pushing hair away from my face I continued examining the board for the second time this week. I knew I noticed something wrong with it last time, but I’d been so mad—blinded by my terrible day, that I couldn’t quite pin down the difference.
Now with fresh but no less irritated eyes, the error was glaring. I looked at my watch. I had to get to my next appointment soon. It was a new potential client and contrary to what everyone thought of me; I prided myself on being a professional. I didn’t want to be late.
“Harp, I have to get going soon,” I said, my voice annoyinglynotauthoritative. Dang it. This was just like the Melissa thing earlier. Why could I not just be mad and show it? “I only need a minute.”
The snap of latex is the only response I got. I refused to look over my shoulder to see if he was coming or not. I didn’t want to beg him. I hated that I always had to ask people twice for things. Sometimes three times or even more depending on the person. That’s probably why my next words grinded out of me, each syllable enunciated as I tried hard to keep my calm. “Harper.”
Warm breath tickled my ear making me jump as someone appeared behind me. “Right here, Boss.”
I let my sigh filter through my nose as I turned, taking a step back from him since he didn’t seem to know what appropriate personal space looked like—and since he smelled good again today.
Ignoring the dizzying feeling his nearness sometimes gave me, I got straight to it, motioning to the Feed Board beside me. “You changed my board.”
“Thought it wasourboard,” he said. Carefully, he crossed his arms over his chest, his black tattoos turning to give me a slightly newer view.
“Yes, of course it’s yours too. It’s your shop,” I started diplomatically, even though nine times out of ten he’d expressed that he couldn’t give two shits about what I decided to post on social media—his words not mine.Professional, Alta, be professional,I reminded myself. “But I arrange them a certain way for a reason. The colors all have a meaning. If you’re going to change something I’d like to know.”
“You said we could rearrange the feed however we liked as long as we give you a week's notice,” he said, annoyingly, pointing to the board for an example. “The only thing that’s changed is from here down. That’s two weeks’ notice from what I can tell.”
My temple thrummed with irritation. He was mocking me or testing me. Either way, his know-it-all tone and satisfied smirk was setting me off once again.
“That’s correct,” I said, breathing out as I tried to keep my professional composure, though it was proving harder by the second. “But the red squares are off limits, remember? What happened to my red square?”
“You’re going to have to remind me what that was,” he said,yawning.
My jaw ached from holding it so tight. “The block party. The one happening on Halloween. I need to announce it at least two weeks in advance or else you won’t gain traction. But it’s gone.”
“Oh,” he said, shrugging. “That’s because we’re not doing that.”
“What?” My eyes snapped up to his, my eyebrows tucking in so tight I could almost feel them touching. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re not doing it. We’re already holding a booth at that festival thing for your sister next weekend. We don’t have time to throw a party on top of that,” he said.
I don’t know what I was expecting to feel the first time this man ever decided to say no to one of my ideas, but I can tell you it wasn’t this sharp stabbing slice in the back of my throat.
I swallowed. “Mr. Harper?—”
“Alta please, don’t start that again.”
I readjusted my stance, powering past the interruption. “Mr. Harper, I want to express that the block party is notjusta party. It’s a new customer outreach opportunity.”
“We don’t need it.”
“Youdo,” I said. “Look at your shop right now.”
Taking a cursory glance over his shoulder, he barely looked before returning his gaze back to me. Shifting like he may be uncomfortable.
“What do you see?” I asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “A tattoo shop.”
“Men,” I corrected him. “Allmen. Besides the girls I see come in here or there for Lana, there’s barely ever a break from testosterone in here.”
“Yeah so?” he asked, his chest puffing out as if he was getting defensive. Silly of me to think so, though. Because he just let a smile curl one side of his mouth, leaning into me slightly. “Got something against men, Boss?”
I wanted to scream. His teasing always served to ignite me to explosive levels. Couldn’t he just take me seriously for one second?
