{"product_id":"echoes-of-scotland-street-isbn-9780451471697","title":"Echoes of Scotland Street","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the\u003ci\u003e New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eOn Dublin Street\u003c\/i\u003e comes a seductive story of forgiving the past and making up for lost time.…\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShannon MacLeod has always gone for the wrong type of man. After she drifted from one toxic relationship to the next, her last boyfriend gave her a wake-up call in the worst possible way. With her world shattered, she’s sworn off men—especially those of the bad-boy variety.\u003cbr\u003eCole Walker is exactly the sort that Shannon wants to avoid—gorgeous, tattooed, charming, and cocky. But his rough exterior hides a good man who’s ready to find “the one.” He’s determined to pull Shannon from her self-imposed solitude to win her heart.\u003cbr\u003eAs Shannon opens up in the face of Cole’s steady devotion, the passion between them ignites to blazing levels. But when Shannon’s past comes back to haunt her, her fears may destroy the trust Cole has built between them—and tear them apart for good.… | \u003cb\u003ePraise for Samantha Young and the \u003ci\u003eOn Dublin Street \u003c\/i\u003eseries \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Highly recommend this one.”—\u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Truly enjoyable…a really satisfying love story.”—Dear Author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[Young] is a goddess when it comes to writing hot scenes.”—Once Upon a Twilight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Flirty, romantic and passionate.”—\u003ci\u003eRT Book Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Wonderfully written, very upbeat, and easy to read.”—Under the Covers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Delivers on all fronts—charismatic characters, witty dialogue, blazing-hot sex scenes, and real-life issues make this book an easy one to devour. Samantha Young is not an author you should miss out on!”—Fresh Fiction\u003cbr\u003e  | \u003cb\u003eSamantha Young\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eUSA Today \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of the \u003ci\u003eOn Dublin Street\u003c\/i\u003e series, including \u003ci\u003eFall from India Place\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eBefore Jamaica Lane\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eDown London Road\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eOn Dublin Street\u003c\/i\u003e. She resides in Scotland. | \u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003ePRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF SAMANTHA YOUNG\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eALSO BY SAMANTHA YOUNG\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePROLOGUE\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eScotland Street\u003cbr\u003e Edinburgh\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI think I’d worn Gran out with my music and my yapping on and on about Ewan. Her eyes kept fluttering closed and popping open and she’d mutter, “Oh dear,” every once in a while. My boyfriend, the aforementioned Ewan, would be in Edinburgh soon to pick me up, so I saw no harm in waiting out on Gran’s front stoop and letting her take a much-needed nap.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhen I kissed her papery cheek and said good-bye, Gran offered me a warm smile, her lids already drooping. Letting myself out of the large house, I hesitated a moment in the spacious hallway. Her house hadn’t seemed so big when Granddad was alive, but ever since he’d passed away three years ago, the house magically grew bigger and colder. Whenever I could, as I had done last night, I’d travel from my parents’ house in our small town to stay with Gran for the night, sometimes even the whole weekend. Since Gran’s house had always felt more like home than my parents’ did, I took any opportunity I could to stay with her.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHowever, I couldn’t stay the whole weekend because Ewan’s band was playing a gig tonight and he wanted me there. He was the band’s bassist. I was really excited to see him play, although I wasn’t much looking forward to girls trying to chat him up after the show, like my friend Caro warned me would probably happen.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShutting Gran’s door, I turned and walked down a few steps to stand near the bottom of the stoop so Ewan could see me. He was seventeen, a few years older than me, and had just gotten his driver’s license. He liked any old excuse to drive his wee, banged-up Punto, so I didn’t feel bad about dragging his arse all the way to Edinburgh to come get me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDigging through my bag for my phone and headphones so I could pass the time listening to music, I heard what sounded like a foot sliding along concrete behind me and I jerked around in surprise.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy eyes instantly collided with those of a boy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe stood on the stoop of the house next door, a few steps farther up than me, and he was regarding me with something akin to shock. As I took him in, I felt my heart rate start to pick up.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis strawberry blond hair was slightly too long and disheveled, but he worked it because . . . I sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach. The boy was utterly gorgeous. They didn’t grow them like him at my school. As he stepped slowly down the stoop, the startlingly light green color of his eyes became clearer. They were “wow” eyes that I felt like I could drown in, and it occurred to me that perhaps I just might. When our eye contact finally broke, it was only because he was distracted by my hair.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSelf-conscious, I tucked a strand behind my ear. The boy’s eyes followed the movement. I’d been mocked for my hair for a long time when I was little, but as I got older I started to get compliments on it. This meant I was really unsure about other people’s reaction to my hair, but I refused to change it. I’d inherited my hair from my mum. It was like the one thing we had in common.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt hung down to just above my bottom in soft waves and natural ringlets. Not ginger, not strawberry blond. It was closer to auburn, but even then it was just a hint too red to be auburn. When the sun or artificial light hit my hair, Gran said it was like a halo of fire around my head.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe boy’s eyes returned to mine.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA really awkward length of time passed as we continued to stare at each other, and I could feel myself begin to squirm under the surprising tension that had sprung up between this stranger and me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSearching for a way out, I dropped my gaze to his black T-shirt. It was a The Airborne Toxic Event shirt and I felt my lips curling into a pleased smile. TATE was one of my favorite bands. “Have you seen them live?” I asked more than a little enviously.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe boy glanced down at his shirt as though he’d forgotten what he was wearing. When he looked back at me, his mouth kicked up at the corner. “I wish.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his voice and unconsciously stepped a little closer to the wrought-iron fence that separated us from each other’s stoop. “I’d love to see them live.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe moved closer and I tilted my head back. He was tall. I was a small five foot three and the boy was almost a foot taller than me. My gaze wandered, no longer under my control, taking in his broad shoulders, down his lean, muscular arms to the big hand he had wrapped around one of the wrought-iron spearheads that embellished the fence. I felt a flip in my belly at the thought of being touched by one of those hands. They were masculine but graceful and long-fingered.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI flushed, thinking about what Ewan had done to me last week, except suddenly imagining this boy in his place. Guiltily, I chewed on my lower lip as I looked back up at the boy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe didn’t seem to notice that my thoughts had meandered into the indecent. “You’re a fan of TATE?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI nodded, feeling suddenly shy of this person who had elicited such a strong reaction in me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“They’re my favorite band.” He gave me a small grin and I instantly wanted to know what he looked like when he laughed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“One of mine too.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yeah?” He leaned in a little closer, his eyes searching my face as though I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “What other bands do you like?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe thrill of having his attention broke through the uncharacteristic shyness and I rattled off all the bands I could think of that I’d been listening to lately.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhen I was done he rewarded me with a smile, and that smile winded me it was so good. There was something flirtatious there but at the same time boyish, charmingly boyish and utterly endearing. It was a great smile. A really, really great smile.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI sighed inwardly and leaned farther into the fence.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“What’s your name?” he asked me, his voice low because we were so close now we could whisper and we’d hear each other. I could actually feel the heat from his body, and realizing we were standing quite intimately made me hugely aware of my own body as well as his. I flushed inwardly again, thankful I wasn’t a typical redhead with blush-prone skin.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Shannon,” I replied, sure there was a hush in the air between us and afraid to break whatever it was by being too loud. “Yours?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Cole,” he said. “Cole Walker.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThat made me smile. It fit him perfectly. “You sound like a hero.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCole grinned. “A hero?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yeah. Like if there was a zombie apocalypse, the hero who tries to save everyone would have a name like Cole Walker.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis chuckle warmed me through and through, as did the way his eyes brightened with amusement. “Zombie apocalypse?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It could happen,” I insisted because I never liked to rule out any eventuality in life.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You don’t seem all that worried that it could.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThat was because I wasn’t. I shrugged. “I’ve just never understood why people are afraid of zombies. They move really slowly and are brain-dead.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCole snorted. “Two very fair points.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI smiled. “So, are you a hero, Cole Walker?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe scratched the side of his chin, looking off into the distance. “What is a hero, really?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSurprised by the deep and apparently serious question, I shrugged. “I suppose it’s someone that saves people.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis eyes flicked back to me. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTrying to lighten the mood, I gave him a flirty smile. “So, do you save people?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCole laughed. “I’m only fifteen. Give me a chance.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe were the same age, then. I was surprised. He could pass for eighteen. “You are really tall for fifteen.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis eyes drifted over me, a small smile playing on his lips. “A lot of people must seem tall to you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Are you calling me short?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Are you saying you’re not short?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI wrinkled my nose. “I’m not delusional. It’s just not polite to comment on a girl’s shortness. For all you know I’m really mad at the world because I’m vertically challenged.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Maybe I’m really mad at the world because I’m tall.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI gave him a look that said \u003ci\u003eas if\u003c\/i\u003e and he burst out laughing.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Okay, I’m not mad at being tall. But you shouldn’t be mad about your height.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m not,” I hurried to assure him. “I was just making a point.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A pointless point.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI giggled, thinking over our bizarre conversation. “Yeah.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCole smiled, and I felt myself go all hot inside again at the way he was looking at me. “I doubt anyone notices your height anyway. You’ve got all that great hair and those amazing eyes to distract them.” As soon as he said it he flushed and ran a hand through his own hair, as if embarrassed he’d complimented me out loud.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy cheeks burned with pleasure. “You’ve got amazing eyes too.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis momentary shyness instantly disappeared at my compliment. Cole leaned forward over the fence. “Please tell me you live here.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBefore I could answer, a loud honk shattered the intensity between us and I jerked my head up to see Ewan approaching in his old Punto. Reality came crashing back down around me, and for some reason I felt a weird sense of loss when I looked back at Cole. “I live in Glasgow,” I told him regretfully. I gestured to the car. “My boyfriend’s here to pick me up.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDisappointment flashed in Cole’s eyes. “Boyfriend?” His gaze flew toward the car and I watched his face fall.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy heart sank in my chest. “Sorry,” I whispered, not really sure what I was apologizing for.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Me too,” he murmured.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEwan honked the horn again and I blanched, moving down the steps, my eyes still on Cole. We held each other’s gaze as I walked over to the car and slowly, reluctantly, got into it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Hey, baby,” Ewan said, finally causing me to break my connection with Cole.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI gave my boyfriend a tremulous smile. “Hi.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe leaned over and kissed me before settling back into his seat to drive away.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePanicked, I turned back to my window to find Cole, but the stoop where he’d stood was now empty. A heavy feeling settled over me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Who was that?” Ewan asked.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Who?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The guy on the stairs.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I don’t know.” \u003ci\u003eBut I hope I get to find out.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEwan started chattering on about the band, not bothering to ask me how my night had been or how Gran had seemed even though I’d told him I was worried about her. As the old car took me away from Scotland Street amid his incessant chatter, I felt like fate had just handed me two cups and I’d stupidly drunk from the wrong one.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCHAPTER 1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eEdinburgh \u003cbr\u003eNine years later\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eINKARNATE.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI stared up at the sign above the tattoo studio on Leith Walk, worrying my lip between my teeth. There was nothing for it. I had to open the doors and step inside.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI blew out a deep breath until my lips formed a disgruntled pout. The sign for INKarnate was painted in bold font across a long panel of glass above its door. The two large panels of glass on either side of the glossy black door were covered in pictures of tattooed limbs, artwork, and bold red-and-purple signs that screamed TATTOOS, PIERCINGS, TATTOO REMOVALS at the passing public. In the center of the panel farthest away from me were two large white signs that proclaimed proudly SCOTLAND’S #1 TATTOO STUDIO and MULTI-AWARD WINNER.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEven I, who had no tattoos to speak of, had heard of INKarnate.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOkay, true, I’d dated quite a few blokes with tattoos, but that wasn’t the reason I’d heard of Stu Motherwell’s tattoo studio. I’d heard of it because his signs didn’t lie and he’d even been on television a few times over the past few years. Stu had owned INKarnate for about thirty years now. He was an extremely talented and ambitious artist and was purported to only hire fantastic artists to work alongside him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eYou’d think I’d be absolutely over-the-moon to get an interview for the admin assistant\/reception position they needed to fill. However, INKarnate embodied everything I was running from at the moment. Everything that was bad for me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d only applied for the job because admin jobs were scarce.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIronic that this should be the only application that had produced a response.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat could I do, though? I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes glued to the sign TATTOOS. I’d had to get away from Glasgow, and I had nowhere to go—Edinburgh was the only place I knew well enough to feel comfortable moving to, and it was expensive as heck. The hotel I was staying in was really a hostel and I couldn’t afford to stay even there that much longer. Although I had enough in my savings for two months’ rent on a really crappy flat, I wouldn’t get a lease until I found a job.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI needed to eat and I needed a roof over my head.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAs Gran used to say, beggars can’t be choosers.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLetting my hands fall to my sides (defensive posture wasn’t really a good way to start an interview), I waited for a woman with her pram to pass by the studio before striding up to the door and pushing inside. An old-fashioned bell at odds with the rest of the decor jingled above the door as I entered.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy low-heeled boots sounded loud on the expensive-looking white-tiled flooring. It was shot through with chips of silver mosaic pieces and was more elegant than I would have expected for a tattoo studio.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFor a few moments I eyed the rest of the interior. It was like a typical tattoo studio but less . . . grungy. The main room was large and spacious. A small curved black marble counter sat to my left, and on it was a shiny iMac I would have given my eyeteeth for. Behind the counter was a massive closet I couldn’t miss because its door was open, revealing a chaotic mass of files on the shelves inside. Opposite the counter on the other side of the room was a huge, well-worn black leather L-shaped sofa that looked really comfy. A glass coffee table was positioned in front of it, with a scatter of magazines on it and what looked like a bowl of shiny-wrapped toffees. Directly ahead of me was a mini gallery of sorts. The walls were white and nearly every inch of them was covered in tattoo concepts. The only walls that had been left bare were the partition walls placed here and there throughout the space. On them were television screens where indie and rock music played softly as a sound track to snapshots and video footage of the artists’ portfolios.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt was all about art here.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut where were the artists?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI stared around at the emptiness, my eyes eventually coming to a stop on a door near the back left-hand corner. I could hear the buzz of a tattoo needle. The workshops must be back there.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShould I venture in?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hesitated only to be shuffled forward by someone attempting to open the entrance door. Moving out of the way, I gave the young man an apologetic smile.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“All right?” He nodded at me in greeting before swaggering over to the counter. He hit an old-fashioned bell a few times.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOh. Okay.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA few seconds later a figure appeared in the doorway at the back. A huge, hulking beast of a figure. I stared openmouthed as he moved toward us, and slowly recognition hit me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe graying beard and long wiry hair, the jolly grin and crinkles around the blue eyes. No, not Santa Claus.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStu Motherwell.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe approached the counter in slow, measured steps and I noted that the black motorcycle boots he was wearing had definitely seen their best day a long, long time ago. The buzz of a tattoo needle continued from the room beyond, so I guessed there was at least one other tattooist back there.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Hi, son,” he greeted the young man. “How can I help?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’ve got an appointment for a tattoo removal in ten minutes.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Name?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Darren Drysdale.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStu bent over to look at the computer screen, clicking the mouse a few times. “Drysdale. Take a wee seat. Rae will be ready for you in a bit. I’d offer you a coffee, but my last assistant bought that fucking contraption and none of us know how to use it.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe customer snorted. “No bother, mate.” He nodded at him and turned around, wandering over to the sofa to wait.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI then found myself under the scrutiny of Stu’s bright blue eyes. He seemed to take stock of me for a moment and then he gave me a massive grin. “And what can I do for you, wee fairy?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWee fairy? That was new. If he wasn’t my interviewer, I might reply that this “wee fairy” would ram her wee but effectual foot up his arse if he “wee fairied” me again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt was possible I was a little angry these days.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut also desperate . . . so . . . “I’m Shannon MacLeod.” I stepped forward and held out my hand. “I’m here for the interview for the admin position.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Thank fuck,” Stu pronounced jovially, striding around the counter to enfold my hand in his huge one. He shook it, shaking my whole body with the motion. “At least you look normal. The last one looked like she hadn’t seen a human being in forty years.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oh?” How was I supposed to reply to a comment like that?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Aye. She didn’t even know what an apadravya or an ampallang was.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI winced just at the thought of those genital piercings. A brave man, was all I’d say, a brave man indeed who sucked it up and got either one of those. “You do those here?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Simon is our piercings guy. He does it all.” Stu grinned. “I take it from that wee flinch you know what they are.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI nodded, not really comfortable discussing penis piercings with my possible boss—although I guessed if I got the job, that might very well become normal conversation between us. “Surely, you don’t get a lot of requests for those, though, right?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m sure women the world over would prefer more than we do get.” Stu chuckled at his own joke and started walking toward the back room, gesturing for me to follow him. “My office is through here. Let’s chat.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe passed through the back door, entering a long narrow hallway where light from three doors streamed through. The buzzing noise was coming from the middle room. Stu pointed at them. “Three workrooms.” He pointed to the one nearest us. “I share that one with my manager. He’s our main tattooist and our finest artist, so he usually does the big projects, unless I take a particular interest. Fridays are his day off, so unfortunately you won’t meet him today. The middle room is Rae’s. She’s finishing up a small tattoo at the moment. She does our tattoo removals as well. The last one is Simon’s. He’s a tattooist, but you’ll find most of his appointments are for piercings.” Stu nodded toward the closed door at the end of the hall. “My office.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe passed by the workrooms and I sneaked a peek inside the middle one. I saw the back of a skinny, purple-haired woman I guessed was Rae. She was tattooing what looked like a butterfly on the lower back of the curvy girl braced over a chair.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI peeked inside the last door, meeting the eyes of a nice-looking, tattooed bald guy. He had a customer, but he gave me a little wave as I passed. I returned it, thinking he had kind eyes.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“In we go, wee fairy,” Stu boomed heartily as he opened his office and swept an arm in a gesture for me to enter before him. He frowned as I moved past him. “What did I say?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI realized I must not have been able to keep my irritation off my face. Oh well, he’d caught me, so I might as well be honest. “Wee fairy? Not really sure how to take that.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Well, I don’t mean anything bad by it, lass.” Stu strode into the room, passing me to take the big leather seat behind his cluttered desk. He waved a hand at the chair in front of me, so I quickly took it. “It’s just with that hair and those eyes and the fact that you are in fact ‘wee,’ you remind me of a wee fairy.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDespite myself, I found I was fighting a smile. This big bruiser of a man seemed perturbed and worried that he might have upset me. “It’s okay. I’m just a bit nervous about the interview.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Och, don’t be nervous.” He shook his head. “We’re just going to go over your work experience and then I’ll introduce you to Rae and Simon. If you get the job you’ll be working mostly with them, so I like to get their feel for a person.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFrom there we chatted for about fifteen minutes or so about my previous work in the administrative world. He was mostly interested in my experience as a receptionist for a tattoo studio in Glasgow. I’d worked there until I was twenty. I’d been dating a local biker at the time who was almost ten years my senior (yeah, my family had loved him), and his best mate owned a studio. The job lasted as long as the relationship, which was roughly eighteen months. It was charming really—he cheated on me with a skanky biker babe and I was the one that got fired. “Downsizing,” my boss had called it. Yeah, more like his mate found it too awkward to have me around after I walked in on him screwing another woman.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d soon discover that was just one of the many joys of dating an honest-to-goodness bad boy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“That all sounds great.” Stu gave me a huge endearing grin that made me smile despite myself. He’d really made me feel at ease during the interview, and I’d begun to think that working at INKarnate might not be such a bad thing after all. “Let’s go meet Rae and Simon.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSimon’s room was empty, but we found him hovering in the doorway of Rae’s, watching her work as she talked with the young man who was there for what appeared to be his first session for a tattoo removal. The young guy blinked up at the doorway in alarm when Stu and I appeared.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRae frowned at his abrupt change in demeanor before following his gaze. She smirked. “Don’t worry. They’re not all here to watch. Right, Stu?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRae’s purple-and-black hair was cut choppy and short around her long, narrow face. She had a sharp nose and a thin mouth. A tiny jet stud sparkled on her nose, and a small silver hoop pierced the left side of her lower lip. Huge dark eyes and enviously long black lashes saved her face from being too severe. The more I gazed at her, the more I realized she was striking even without the hair and the piercings and the sleeve of black rose tattoos down her right arm. A skinny Harley-Davidson tank top and black jeans showcased her long-limbed figure.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Who’s Red?” She nodded her chin at me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“This is Shannon. Shannon, these are my artists, Rae and Simon.” Stu gestured to the tall, bald artist.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSimon grinned at me and I felt my warning flag start to fly. He had dimples, very, very charming dimples, glittering hazel eyes, and nicely developed muscles underneath his gray Biffy Clyro shirt. Tattoos covered every inch of both his arms. Black tunnels pierced his ears.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe was a problem.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePerhaps a job at INKarnate wasn’t going to work out after all.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You should hire her,” Simon said to Stu without taking those pretty eyes off me. “She’s hot. She’ll attract interest.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNope. Definitely not going to work out.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA snort erupted from Rae as she perceptively read the expression on my face. “Don’t worry, Red. He prefers dicks. Like, actual dicks.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI blinked in surprise not just at her crassness, and in front of a customer no less, but at the implication. Simon was gay? He caught my look of surprise and laughed. “Yes, I’m gay.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hated to admit it to myself, but the revelation made me relax instantly, the disappointment I’d felt only moments before disappearing. I grinned at Simon now. “If you’re single I’ll pass out with disbelief.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe laughed at that, seeming pleased. “I’m not. My boyfriend is called Tony. He’s Italian.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oh, don’t get him started on Tony,” Rae groaned, rolling her eyes. “I love the guy, but if I have to hear one more tale of Tony’s talented mouth and generous heart I’m going to vomit all over myself.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy eyes betrayed my shock and Simon patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s just Rae’s way. She loves me really.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe harrumphed at that and turned purposefully back to her client, who’d been watching us with something akin to boredom on his face. “Hire her, Stu. You know I love shocking the fuck out of people, and Red here looks like she’ll make that fun for me.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I take that as a challenge,” I said, feeling indignant at the accusation that I was somehow thin-skinned. “I’ve been around and heard a lot worse, I promise you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer mouth quirked up at the corner. “I’ll take \u003ci\u003ethat \u003c\/i\u003eas a challenge.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You’ve done it now.” Simon sighed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You’re hired,” Stu announced.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming rush of relief. “Seriously?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe smiled. “Aye, I like you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThat didn’t sound very professional. “You’re hiring me because you like me?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“People have no idea how important that is to a successfully run business. If everyone gets along, if the atmosphere in here is great, people will recommend us.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oh yes, because my affable fucking nature, \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e my immense ability with a tattoo needle, is what brings in all the recommendations,” Rae drawled.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStu grunted. “It’s not your affable fucking nature or your ability with a tattoo needle that brings in the recommendations. It’s—”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Cole,” she finished for him, throwing him a grin. “But I’m not bad either.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStu couldn’t help smiling at that. “Aye, you’re not bad either.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Right.” Simon turned toward us and shooed us with his hands. “Let Rae work.” He smiled at me as we walked out into the hallway. “So, are you accepting?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI thought about it as I wandered after Stu into the main room. A customer waited at the counter and Simon hurried over to greet him while Stu stared at me expectantly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSo Rae had a mouth on her and I was guessing no filter between said mouth and her brain, but underneath the prickly demeanor I sensed a real affection for her employer and her colleague. Stu was loud and blunt but easygoing and laid-back. And Simon seemed just as easygoing and nice.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt couldn’t be the worst place to work.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWho was I kidding? They could be horrible and I’d still be accepting this job. I stuck out my hand. “Thank you. I’d be pleased to accept.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStu beamed, shaking my hand and with it my whole body again. “Brilliant. How does Monday sound?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Brilliant,” I echoed, smiling hugely for the first time in days, weeks even. I was relieved to finally be moving forward with my life.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStu looked over his shoulder at Simon. “She said aye!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSimon laughed. “Good news. Cole will love her.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oh, aye.” Stu chuckled in a way that made me feel suddenly nervous. Who was Cole? Stu’s eyes twinkled. “I’m actually semiretired. I’m not around a lot, so I leave the running of the place to my manager, Cole. He’ll go over everything you need to know on Monday.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI smiled weakly in response.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e*   *   *\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe room was cold and narrow, but at least it was a place to rest my head for now. Although that didn’t make the surroundings any less depressing. Not to mention I hated having to share the communal bathroom with the five other guests who were staying at the “hotel.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d finished filling out the employee details form Stu had given me before leaving INKarnate. On the one hand I felt incredibly lucky to have secured a job so quickly, and on the other I was absolutely dreading meeting my new manager. I had to hope that he was just like Stu or even Simon. Not a bad boy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGrumbling under my breath about the miscommunication that had landed me in this situation, I pushed away the form and picked up my phone. No messages. As if I really expected there to be any—I hadn’t been entirely visible back in Glasgow to my family, but at least I’d existed. 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