“Sorry, I’ll hopefully see you again later?”
I nod at him, not wanting to give him any false hope. Like I said, he’s cute, but after my last string of bad dates and even worse short-term boyfriends, I’m happy flying solo right now. I’ve got a top of the range vibrating friend in my bedside table; I don’t need a man.
Picking up the tray in front of me, I turn and go in search of my friends. It takes forever, but eventually I find them tucked around a tiny table in the back corner of the bar.
“What the hell took so long? We thought you’d pulled and abandoned us.”
“Yes and no,” I say, ensuring every head turns my way.
“Tell us more,” Danni, my best friend, demands.
“It was nothing. The barman was about to ask me out, but it got busy.”
“Why the hell did you come back? Get over there. We all know you could do with a little… loosening up,” James says with a wink.
“I’m good. He wasn’t my type.”
“Oh, of course. You only date posh boys.”
“That is not true.”
“Is it not?” Danni asks, chipping in once she’s filled all the glasses.
“No…” I think back over the previous few guys they met. “Wayne wasn’t posh,” I argue when I realise they’re kind of right.
“No, he was just a wanker.”
Blowing out a long breath, I try to come up with an argument, but quite honestly, it’s true. My shoulders slump as I realise that I’ve been subconsciously dating guys my parents would approve of. It’s like my need to follow their orders is so well ingrained by now that I don’t even realise I’m doing it. Shame that their ideas about my life, what I should do, and whom I should date don’t exactly line up with mine.
Glancing over my shoulder at the bar, I catch a glimpse of Christian’s head. Maybe I should take him up on his almost offer. What’s the worst that could happen?
Deciding some liquid courage is in order, I grab my margherita and swallow half down in one go.
I’m so fed up of attempting to live my parents’ idea of a perfect life. I promised Gran I’d do things my way. I need to start living up to my promise.
By the time I’m tipsy enough to walk back to the bar and chat up Christian, he’s nowhere to be seen. I’m kind of disappointed seeing as the others had convinced me to throw caution to the wind (something that I’m really bad at doing), but I think I’m mostly relieved to be able go home and lock myself inside my flat alone and not have to worry about anyone else.
With my arm linked through Danni’s, we make our way out to the street, ready to make our journeys home, and Shannon jumps into an idling Uber while Danni waits for another to go in the opposite direction.
“You sure you don’t want to be dropped off? I don’t mind.”
“No, I’m sure. I could do with the fresh air.” It’s not a lie—the alcohol from one too many cocktails is making my head a little fuzzy. I hate going to sleep with the room spinning. I’d much rather that feeling fade before lying down.
“Okay. Promise me you’ll text me when you’re home.”
“I promise.” I wrap my arms around my best friend and then wave her off in her own Uber.
Turning on my heels, I start the short walk home.
I’ve been a London girl all my life, and while some might be afraid to walk home after dark, I love it. I love seeing a different side to this city, the quiet side when most people are hiding in their flats, not flooding the streets on their daily commutes.
My mind is flicking back and forth between my promise to Gran and my missed opportunity tonight when a shop front that I walk past on almost a daily basis makes me stop.
It’s a tattoo studio I’ve been inside of once in my life. I never really pay it much attention, but the new sign in the window catches my eye and I stop to look.
Admin help wanted. Enquire within.
Something stirs in my belly, and it’s not just my need to do something to piss my parents off—although getting a job in a place like this is sure to do that. I’m pretty sure it’s excitement.
Tattoos fascinate me, or more so, the artists.
I’m surprised to see the open sign still illuminated, so before I can change my mind, I push the door open. A little bell rings above it, and after a few seconds of standing in reception alone, a head pops out from around the door.
“Evening. What can I do you for?” The guy’s smile is soft and kind despite his otherwise slightly harsh features and ink.
“Oh um…” I hesitate under his intense dark stare. I glance over my shoulder, the back of the piece of paper catching my eye and reminding me why I walked in here. “I just saw the job ad in the window. Is the position still open?”
His eyes drop from mine and take in what I’m wearing. Seeing as tonight’s outing involved a rock concert, I’m dressed much like him in all black and looking a little edgy with my skinny black jeans, ripped AC/DC t-shirt and heavy black makeup. I must admit it’s not a look I usually go for, but it was fitting for tonight.
He nods, apparently happy with what he sees.
“Experience?” he asks, making my stomach drop.
“Not really, but I’m studying for a Masters so I’m not an idiot. I know my way around a computer, Excel, and I’m super organised.”
“Right…” he trails off, like he’s thinking about the best way to get rid of me.
“I’m a really quick learner. I’m punctual, methodical and really easy to get along with.”
“It’s okay, you had me sold at organised. I’m Dawson, although everyone around here calls me D.”
“Nice to meet you.” I stick my hand out for him to shake, and an amused smile plays at his lips. Stretching out an inked arm, he takes my hand and gives it a very firm shake that my dad would be impressed by—if he could look past the tattoos, that is. “I’m Tabitha, but everyone calls me Biff.”
“Biff, I like it. When can you start?”
“Don’t you want to interview me?”
“You sound like you could be perfect. When can you start?”
“Err… tomorrow?” I ask, totally taken aback. He doesn’t know me from Adam.
“Yes!” He practically snaps my hand off. “Can you be here for two o’clock? I can show you around before clients start turning up. I’ll apologise now for dropping you in the deep end, we’ve not had anyone for a few weeks and things are starting to get a little crazy.”
“I can cope with crazy.”
“Good to know. This place can be nuts.” I smile at him, more grateful than he could know to have a distraction and a focus.
My Masters should be enough to keep my mind busy, but since Gran went, I can’t seem to lose myself in it like I could previously. Hopefully, sorting this place’s admin out might be exactly what I need.
“Two o’clock tomorrow then,” I say, turning to leave. “I’ll bring ID. Do you need a reference? I’ve done some voluntary work recently, I’m sure they’ll write something for me.”
“Just turn up on time and do your job and you’re golden.”