Tilting my chin, I decided to chance it, calling out casually, “Hey, Boss?”
Nothing. Not even a tilt of her head to show that she’d heard me. I exchanged looks with the crew, everyone sharing a mix of expressions between amusement and genuine concern. Inside, my own concern ratcheted up even though I knew there was nothing to bethatalarmed about.
Sure, little miss goody two shoes was nice to everyone else, but I had a feeling she was more than that on the inside. I didn’t know what was in there exactly, but sometimes, when she let long looks slip between the two of us—holding onto my eyes like life rafts in the sea, I could see storms raging behind her irises. Rushing and turbulent and more extravagant than maybe even she realized. I saw a lot in her, yet she only let so much out into the world.
That’s why I never minded she chose me to let some of her storminess out on.
That’s also why I was the one sighing after another minute of her silence. Because I was the one who would have to walk over and wave my hand in front of her face, careful not to touch her, while standing far enough that she couldn’t lean forward and snap at me with her teeth if she felt so inclined.
She didn’t of course. Instead of using any teeth—shame—she turned her eyes up to me, her thick eyebrows pulling down in a deep frown.
The look caught me off guard. She looked so upset. Even more so than when she was strangling the plant. She looked like she did that first day, after I let my mouth run off. So much so that I almost let it run off again, this time to ask her what was wrong in hopes to get the truth about what I did to fuck up that day.
Blinking, she looked perplexed as she took in my expression. “What?”
I cleared my throat, pointing over her shoulder at the congregation of tattoo artists behind us. “They’ve been trying to get your attention, Boss.”
“Oh?” She turned but cut a look up at me. “And they sent you?”
Ouch. I let the jab roll off my chest, shrugging. “I’m hard to ignore.”
She merely huffed before returning her attention to the rest of the crew. I swallowed my laughter.What a trip. But at least she wasn’t staring at the wall anymore.
Taking in the faces of the people in front of us, I saw her wince. That quick, she started feeling bad about her own feelings because they were affecting others. I swallowed a groan. I almost liked her better sneering and snipping at me than catering to everyone else’s emotions, especially when hers were so obviously suffering. But I said nothing as I watched her paste on a weak smile for my employees.
“Sorry guys,” she said, her eyes skipping over the group. “What’s up?”
They read her like a book. Granted, she wasn’t really hiding it well, her overly chipper tone seeming suspicious even for her. Instead of asking what was bothering her, my crew looked to me with wide eyes as if I was supposed to do something about it. And when I gave them a flat look in return, their wide eyes got even bigger, nudging me along.
I sighed, the whooshing air enough to move the hair off her shoulder. She glanced at me, and took a step to the side.
Nice.
She reallydidhate me. But my crew was looking at me like it was my fault miss pisses rainbows was acting weird, so I guess it was up to me to fix it. Pointing at the guys, I leaned my shoulder her way, “We were brainstorming tattoo ideas for your sister’s thing. We need your opinion.”
“Oh!” She brightened up instantly. Whipping out her phone, she started tapping away. “Okay, perfect! Let me just ask Ceci if?—”
“No, no, no,” I said, slipping the phone out of her hand. “We weren’t asking Cecilia?—”
“Celestia,” she corrected, referring to her fire headed sister.
I waved a hand. “Yeah, whatever. Point is, we’re not drawing for her. We knowyou. Soyoucome tell us what you think, yeah?”
She bit her lip, giving her phone in my hand a wary glance before shaking herself. “Yeah, okay! Show me then, if you guys don’t mind.”
With a little bit more pep in her step, she started toward the group. As she passed me, I quickly shot a wide-eyed look at my people over her head.
Truth was, we had onlyjustspoken about getting our sketches for Alta’s sister’s fundraiser completed by the end of next week, since the event wasn’t long after that. So I’d be lucky if any of them had a rough outline of their ideas yet, if they even started at all.
Still, everyone kept their calm and obediently pulled out their sketchbooks or tablets or whatever they liked to work on, while I followed behind Alta and pulled up a chair for her in front of the group.
The first brave soul to pull up their sketches was Gerald. He worked off pad and paper mostly so he had to shuffle through a few large sheets and even slide his rectangular glasses onto his nose to double check he had the right one. Looking up at her over the top rim of them, he asked in a deep voice, “Now, you said these are representing ladies overcoming their demons and what not, right, Ally?”
A soft smile touched Alta’s lips as she watched Gerald. That happened a lot when he called her that. “Yeah, something like that, Ger.”
“Alright,” he grunted, turning his papers over and handing them to her. “Well, I was thinking these flowers might work.”
Pink lips formed the shape of an ‘O’ as she surveyed the papers on an intake of breath. “Ger! Are these lotuses?”
