Page 4 of Accepting Fate
With his dark jeans, brown boots, and tan checkered flannel with a white shirt underneath, Landon looks like every other thirty-year-old man in Washington state. His beard is trimmed close to his face. His light brown hair is cut short on the sides and longer on the top.
Looking at him you would think he's an ex-marine or army.
The minute I meet the signature ocean blue Hayes men eyes, I know he isn’t here to hang out. The way he is looking at me right now tells me the quiet night at home I was looking forward to is out the window.
"We need to talk,” Landon says as he sits down in my chair at my desk and makes himself comfortable. Landon has a very no-bullshit personality. In his line of work, he doesn’t have time to fuck around. He is a former cop turned private investigator and the brains behind the second job I run with my brothers, Noah and Wesley.
I wipe a hand down my face and sink into the chair opposite of him. "Does it have to be right now? I have a client in…” I pause to look at the black watch on my wrist and then add, “thirty minutes.”
He looks up to the ceiling. It’s clear whatever is going through that head of his isn’t good. This must be a big one because he is rarely ever this insistent. If we have a job, it's normally planned days in advance or we have at least a few hours to prepare.
I stare at him and after a few minutes of no response, I ask while looking down at my clasped hands in my lap to allow him some semblance of privacy to collect himself. “Lan? You good?”
My parents taught us that emotions are not a weakness. Some of us choose to express ourselves in a more subtle way like myself, Landon, my oldest brother, Wesley, and our quiet father. My youngest brother, Noah, is more like my no-filter mother. They let everyone know what they are thinking and feeling without a care in the world what someone will think. Even though we have different ways of displaying our emotions, my parents told us to never hold anything in. The more you keep all that negativity inside, the more it will affect your everyday life.
We all have mutual trust in each other. Although the age gap from youngest to oldest is seven years, we are all each other's best friends.
Landon clears his throat and I focus my attention on him, "Sorry. Is it possible for Cassie to take the client?”
The client coming in is a repeat. She has had tattoos from all of us at one point. I know she wouldn’t mind.
This wouldn’t be the first time one of us has had to pass a client onto another for emergencies or sickness. Just last week, Travis asked me to take one of his because he was stuck at home with the stomach flu.
We all make our own schedules. Travis and Sebastian are both night owls, so chances are if they have a client, they won’t be coming in until sometime after five pm. We cross paths if I have a late client but most of the time, they don't come in until I’m gone for the day. I have a log of everyone’s schedule, but I rarely look at it unless someone needs me to. It’s only there for payroll reasons or swaps.
Checking the schedule on my phone I see Cassie doesn’t have anyone until tomorrow morning.
Cass and I are much more day people, so she is the best bet to call on.
My family pops in so much and has befriended all my artists so it’s not surprising that Landon knows who I need to call to cover for me.
Sighing, I shake my head and mutter, "I’ll call her and see if she can come in. But are you going to tell me what is going on or are you just going to let me go into this blind?”
Landon’s stone expression remains, and he nods his head to my phone. I love this dude but sometimes I want to punch that expression right off his face.
I press Cassie’s contact and she answers on the third ring. “Hey boss, what's up?”
Cassie is my favorite out of all my artists. She is dependable, kind, and an absolute sweetheart when it comes to her clients. Where some artists would get pissed at clients constantly changing their minds or rude as hell people, Cass just smiles and continues completely unbothered. She’s great at making the clients feel welcome and safe, which is nice when we have clients coming in for work that is inspired by something traumatic.
"Hey Cass, can you take a client for me that's coming in now for a daisy on her forearm? I have the design drawn up and it's pretty simple or you can do your own thing.”
Almost immediately she responds, “Absolutely. I can be there in a few minutes. Everything okay?” I can hear shuffling around on the phone and I know she's getting ready to sprint out the door.
Cass loves her job and The Needle. I feel good knowing if I needed to take off for a while or something went wrong with my brothers, she would take over and not run the place into the ground.
"Thanks, Cass. Everything is good. Landon needs help moving some stuff around up at Dad’s and this is the only night he can do it before he goes out of town for work.”
It's easy coming up with lies when it comes to my second job. We have been doing it for so long now that it's second nature.
I hear an engine rumble to life. "Okie dokie. On my way now! Wait, who is the client? Repeat?” she asks before hanging up.
"Yup, it's Alexa.”
Alexa loves everyone here and I know she isn’t going to have a problem with the last-minute switch. She will probably like Cass’s design better anyway.
"Cool. See ya soon!”
I hang up and look at Landon. Tossing the phone onto my desk, I motion for him to talk. "Done. Now stop with the bullshit and tell me what the fuck is going on.”