Tell Me It’s Right (Sweetspire #1)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

LIAM

I don’t know if anyone has ever—in the entire history of the world—looked more out of place than Gracie Collins standing in a tattoo shop. She tries to hide it—she really does—but she’s on fucking edge like she’s afraid someone is going to leap out from behind the curtain and forcibly tattoo her face.

It had been impulsive, offering her the job. Especially when the shop is in no shape for it. But God, Keava can be such a bitch sometimes, and after I saw that spark of relief in Gracie’s eyes, there was no way I was going to backtrack.

And the more I thought about it after leaving Leo’s last night, the more I realized this very well may be the universe tossing me a life buoy.

Terrified, mousy, deer-in-headlights Gracie Collins has no idea, but she’s about to save this place.

She’s got that wide-eyed look on her as I head to the desk with the schedule and stencil paper. It’s an expression I’ve seen on her a million times growing up, but something about it looks different now. Maybe it’s because she looks so different. She still had the baby face when she went off to college, and her features are still round and soft, but it’s like they’ve settled into themselves now, complementing each other instead of fighting to take up space.

I realize I’ve been staring at her a beat too long and flip open the book to today’s date.

“I have an appointment coming in at ten, and a few consultations this afternoon. But I have to get some admin things out of the way this morning.” Like how the hell I’m going to pay her, and I’m sure there are a dozen or so forms she’ll need to sign. All my artists are independent contractors, so that process was completely different than if I’m making her an employee. Which is pretty much what I implied last night, so that’s probably what she’s expecting. I spare her a quick glance. “You wanna clean up the stations in the back and make sure everything’s sanitized? Familiarize yourself with everything. Supplies are in the closet.”

Everything’s already sanitized, but I don’t need her standing there watching me while I try to figure this out.

“You hired me to be a maid ?”

I roll my head to look up at her. “I hired you to make my life easier. Would it kill you to be a team player, Little Leo?”

“Okay, you’ve gotta stop calling me that.”

I wouldn’t do it if she didn’t make it so fun. “As long as you’re under this roof, I’m the boss, and I will do no such thing.”

Surprisingly, she does it. I was expecting at least a little pushback, but her footsteps lightly thud against the floor, followed by the metal clings of the drawers opening.

I’m not even sure how much a position like this should pay, but if this is only for a few months until she finds something she likes better, it doesn’t really matter. The shop’s income can’t afford it no matter what, so I’ll just have to dip into the savings.

As I’ve had to do every month since we opened.

My inheritance from Granddad will last me at least a decade this way—especially since he left the building itself to me—but that’s exactly what my father expects. For me to coast along on family money, then come crawling back once it runs out.

It was no secret why Granddad left so much of his fortune to me. It’s not because I was his favorite. It’s not because I most deserved it or because he thought I’d do good things.

It’s because he knew I’d be fucked without it. Dad has been threatening to cut me off since I graduated high school.

It was one last chance for him to say fuck you to my father.

I knew it. Dad knew it. So did everybody else.

So I have between now and when that bank account hits zero to figure out how to make this place profitable. Because there is no way in hell I’m giving my father the satisfaction.

There are only three stations, so it doesn’t take Gracie long, then she’s back to standing in front of the desk and staring at me as I print off a bunch of forms for her to sign.

“Have you looked at the website?” I ask.

“I—no.”

She somehow manages to always sound surprised. I let out a low laugh, spin my chair around to face her, and brace my arms on my legs. “Remind me what you went to school for.”

“I—graphic and web design.” She tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes a bit. “And I minored in photography and social media.”

“You had two majors and two minors? How the hell did you manage that?”

She shrugs. I figured she would’ve gone into something creative, and Leo’s mentioned her marketing background, but all of that? I didn’t go to college, but even I know that kind of schedule could drive a person off the deep end. At least she’s used to being busy then.

I raise my eyebrows and blow the air out of my cheeks. “All right. Take a look at the website, then come back to me with some notes on what you think could be improved—the logo, the photos online, whatever is fair game. Just make me look good, okay? If you don’t mind doing the office management type stuff…that would be helpful too.”

“Does the shop have social media?”

I shake my head. I don’t have any of it myself, and never plan to. Even if I were to venture into that world for the shop, I’d have no idea where to start.

“Well, maybe you should. I think it would do well.”

“Why is that?”

“I—it could make a difference in bringing in new clients, and if you grow a platform, that could potentially bring in some other revenue. And you’d do well on it.”

My lips twitch. “And why is that?”

Her cheeks pink, and she waves a hand, gesturing to the shop around us. “It’s…photogenic in here. And you’re… you know …and people would…” I can’t help it. My smile grows with each of her failed sentences. She sighs. “Forget it.”

“No, no. You’re the fancy college grad. I trust you know more about this than I do. Like I said, you’ve got free rein. Just make me look good.”

“You’d have to participate in the social media stuff,” she mumbles. “People like…putting a face to things.”

Literally nothing sounds worse, but seeing her excitement as she talked about it, the way her eyes lit up with ideas, it’s the first time I’ve seen her like that since she got back here. I can’t very well tell her no. And I know she’s right. If I want the shop to start doing better, I have to be open to trying things I haven’t done.

I rise from the chair and grin at the way she bristles and shifts her weight, like she’s bracing herself for whatever comment I have coming next.

“You tell me when and where, Little Leo, and I’ll do whatever you want me to.”