Bang on an hour later and the buzzer to my flat is ringing out. I rush to let Danni in, my excitement for what I’ve got planned beginning to get the better of me.
The second I stepped out of Rebel Ink I booked an Uber and went straight to the closest supermarket. I begged the driver to wait for me and had the quickest trip around that shop that I’ve ever had in my life, but when I emerged less than ten minutes later, I had everything I’d need to put my plan into place.
“What the hell’s going on?” Danni asks as she follows me toward my kitchen and accepts the glass of sauvignon I hand her.
“I’ve got a new job,” I announce.
“Oh? I didn’t know you were looking.”
“I wasn’t, but I saw a poster and took it as a sign. I made that promise to Gran and quite honestly, I feel like I’ve been letting her down. I promised her I’d start living my own life, not the one my parents want for me, but I’ve just continued down on the same path.”
“That’s not true, you’re doing your Masters.”
One side of my mouth twists. “I was already doing that.”
“Okay, fair point. So this job?” she asks again, curling her feet up underneath her and getting comfortable on my sofa.
“It’s in a tattoo studio.”
Danni almost spits her wine out in shock. “It’s in a what?”
“A tattoo studio,” I repeat, although I’ve no idea why. It’s obvious she heard the first time.
“Why?”
I shrug. “Thought it might be fun.”
“Working with a group of tatted up, biker thugs?”
“Stereotypical much? Not everyone who has a tattoo is a thug, Dan.” I lift my cami to show her my ribs as a point.
“Obviously I know that, but tattoo artists are—”
“Are what? Please enlighten me, I’d love to hear your opinion seeing as you’ve probably never spoken to one.” Of course, this is very much not true seeing as I’ve discovered her very own brother is one, and my new boss it seems. He might have been all kinds of arsehole tonight, but I’m not going to out him to his sister, not yet anyway. I want to fight this battle myself as his pissed-off employee, not his sister’s best friend.
“Okay, fine. I’ve no idea. You tell me, what are they like?”
“Mostly pretty awesome.” I talk about D, Titch and Spike and all their crazy quirks that I’ve discovered that make them so fun to work with.
“So it’s all guys… and you?”
“Yep,” I state proudly.
“I bet that’s a sight to see.”
“Yeah well, that’s kind of why you’re here. I want to… fit in more.”
“Okaaay,” she drawls hesitantly, leaning forward to put her glass on the coffee table.
I get up and grab the bag from the shop. “Yep, you’re going to help me embrace my wild side.” I pull out the box of hair dye and place it next to her wine.
“Pink?”
“Pink,” I agree with a smile, excitement exploding in my belly for the first time in a long time.
“What else is in the bag?” I tip out the contents and watch as she inspects each one. “You bought supermarket makeup? That’ll be beyond shit.”
“I didn’t have time for anything else. I’m sure it’ll do the job just fine. So are you going to help me or what?”
“You mean am I going to watch as you turn yourself into someone who’s going to give your dad a heart attack? Hell yes!”
Danni picks up both our glasses of wine and I collect up the bottles and tubes littering my coffee table. Together we head towards my bathroom.
“So the whole lot pink?”
“No, just my blonde tips. You’re probably going to need to paint it on. I’ll grab you a brush.” I leave her in the bathroom in favour of one of my spare bedrooms that I’ve turned into my studio and rummage through my brushes until I find out suitable that I’m willing to ruin.
“This is London, you know. I’m sure you could have found a salon,” she shouts.
“Probably, I just thought this would be more fun. If I like it, I can go and get it done properly.”
The next hour passes by with lots of laughs, disbelief from my friend and another glass of wine each while we’re surrounded by the stench of the ammonia in the dye. I refuse to look in the mirror until she’s dried and straightened it.
My hair’s been pretty boring most of my life. The girl who hid in the shadows at school had non-descript mousy brown, cut straight across hair. It was never in the latest fashion like the ‘cool’ kids and it had never been anywhere near any dye. I got a little braver as I got closer to my twenties and had some blonde highlights added, but, still under my parents’ thumbs, I was afraid to do anything too wild that they would disapprove of.
Until a few minutes ago, it was brown and blonde ombre. I loved that it had the hint of following the fashion but still kept my parents happy. What we’ve just done, on the other hand, is going to go down like a lead balloon. If the dye’s worked as I’m imagining then the bottom of my hair will no longer be honey blonde but a striking pink.
My hands tremble slightly with my excitement to see how it’s turned out.
Danni takes her time. I’m not sure if she’s torturing me on purpose for being so crazy or just doing a thorough job, but my impatience is getting the better of me.
“Are you done yet?”
“Just about.”
She straightens the final layer before gently brushing it through.
“Go on then.”
I suck in a breath and stand. I count to three and lift my eyes to the mirror. “Oh my god,” I gasp, my fingers coming up to touch the pink staring back at me. “I love it.”
“Really?” I glance at Danni who’s over my shoulder in the mirror, looking a little hesitant.
“Yeah, really. Why didn’t I do this years ago?”
“Because—”
“Don’t say it,” I interrupt. I don’t need her to tell me how weak I’ve been when it comes to my parents. Her mum and dad are so supportive of everything she does. She’s no idea what it was like for me growing up with them breathing down my neck every second, ensuring I do what pleases them.
She shrugs at me but her eyes tell me exactly what she’s thinking. I refill our once again empty glasses and Danni orders our favourite Chinese dishes to be delivered, and we continue on our impromptu girly night in. It’s been too long since I had a night like this. We usually end up out in one of the many cocktail bars across the city, but this right now is perfect. A bit of one-on-one time with my bestie, even if I do feel guilty about keeping quite a big secret from her.
It would be so easy to open my mouth and explain how her youngest older brother is now my boss, but for one I doubt she’d believe me; they all think they know Zach, turns out they have no idea. But also because for some fucked-up reason I feel the need to keep his secret. I’ve no idea why, I owe him nothing, especially after the way he treated me tonight, but something stops the words falling from my lips.
“I’m so excited for this time next week. I’ve got an epic night planned,” she says, putting her phone down on the arm of the chair, grabbing her wine and turning to me.
“Oh come on, tell me,” I whine. Danni’s oldest brother, Harrison, is getting married in two weeks. Technically they’re already married, seeing as they had a spur of the moment Vegas wedding a few years ago. His already wife, Summer, has entrusted Danni as her maid of honour and chief organiser of the hen do. Personally, I think she’s crazy. Summer is quite quiet and reserved, and I have a feeling that her hen do is going to be anything but, especially if the current twinkle in my best friend’s eye is anything to go by.
Danni introduced me to Summer at uni when she first started. She’s an art undergrad, so we’re often in the department together, and our love of art meant we bonded pretty fast.
“Nope, you’ll have to wait to find out just like everyone else.”
I huff, trying to come up with a way to get the information I need. “Okay, well… what should I wear?”
“Your most awesome dress, obviously.” She rolls her eyes like it was the most ridiculous question in the world.
“She’s going to hate you if you embarrass her, you know that right?”
“She’ll get over it. It’s her last hurrah, it needs to be all kinds of awesome.” I don’t disagree with that, but I fear Summer’s and Danni’s ideas of awesome vary somewhat.
“Oh, dinner’s here,” Danni announces, dragging me from my thoughts and practically running for the door.
I walk out of the flat with a newfound confidence the next day. I spent all morning in my studio working on a project for uni before jumping in the shower, washing all the paint off me and getting ready for my busy Saturday shift at work.
A shudder runs up my spine as I think about Zach’s cold eyes as he stared at me last night. He really hated me on sight. I want to say he disliked me at school, but honestly, that would mean he’d have had to have noticed me. I was like a ghost in that place; the girl who loitered in the shadows, afraid of doing anything that would disrespect my parents. Dad had hopes of making more contacts with the parents of the private school kids I spent my days with. I think he hoped I would befriend the wealthiest and would be able to form a connection with their parents. Needless to say, I wasn’t friends with any of the kids he would have liked me to have been.
I’m ready early and already antsy about turning up at the studio looking like a totally different version of myself, so instead of pacing my living room, I book an Uber and head off into the city for a little retail therapy before starting work. I’ve got a pretty vast wardrobe but it mostly consists of ‘posh girl’ (as I’m sure Zach would put it) blouses, jumpers and trousers. If I’m going to fully own this new look of mine then I need to make some additions.
I walk up to the heavy front doors of Selfridge’s and smile to myself. You can take the girl out of the posh clothes, but you can’t take the labels off them. Shaking my head at my thoughts and the fact that this shop was my first thought, I continue inside to see what I can find.
I head to my usual favourites and find the most perfect All Saints leather jacket to finish off my outfit before doubling back on myself when I walk past a pair of Jimmy Choo biker boots. I grab a few other bits, some vests along with a red leather skirt and tights to wear underneath.
I’m feeling pleased with myself when I walk back out with my yellow bags swinging from my fingertips. Where I might be a fan of designer labels, I’m not usually that much of a fan of shopping because I always find myself buying the same items, items that could equally be hanging in my mother’s wardrobe as well as mine, but this morning as I walked around I felt the buzz of excitement that something new and big was happening. At least I was taking life by the balls and doing something for me. Something to show the world who Tabitha Anderson really is. One thing I know for sure is that she’s not a meek and mild younger version of her mother.
I have the sudden urge to go home and burn all my old clothes, but as I slide into the back of an Uber, I look at the clock on my phone and realise that I don’t have time. That shop totally took over my afternoon, and if the driver doesn’t step on it I’m going to be late.
I laugh quietly to myself. Maybe I should be late just to piss him off further. I almost ask the driver to go the long way around, but as I sit forward to do so, I change my mind. He already dislikes me and is probably hoping that I’m not going to reappear today.
I quickly change my Converse for my new boots and pull my leather jacket up my arms before thanking the driver and stepping from his car.
The neon light still shows closed, and when I get to the door it’s locked. I pull the key D gave me from the pocket of my bag and let myself in.
The place is in silence so I assume that I’m the first one in. I push my Selfridge’s bags under my desk and go into the kitchen to power up the coffee machine ready for the others’ arrival. I set my coffee going and then wander out to reception. I start up my computer and stand looking at the artwork on the walls while everything comes to life and the smell of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air.
The sound of his footsteps hits my ears and I freeze, my spine stiffening. This is it, Tabitha. You need to bring your A game to stand a chance against this arsehole.
I suck in a deep breath, hoping to drag in a little extra confidence with it. I’m just about to turn to face him when he speaks. The air I was holding in my lungs comes rushing out at the sound of his voice.
“I’m sorry, but we’re not actually open yet.” My skin pricks at the deep roughness. It makes my temperature spike and my irritation levels grow. I’ve not even looked at him yet.
“I’m aware,” I snap, but I can’t help a smile appearing on my lips. He has no idea it’s me. Excitement explodes in my stomach. He clearly thinks I’m a client, which means he must think I belong here. Well, the back of me at least.
I don’t bother preparing myself this time. His voice has already knocked me for six so I’m not sure I will ever be as prepared as I need to be to see him.
I spin on the balls of my feet, revealing myself to him.
My eyes run from his styled blonde hair, over his blue eyes, his straight nose and strong jaw. The moment his full lips part in shock, I know I’ve achieved what I intended to. Accomplishment blooms within me and I fight to keep the smug smile that’s threatening under control.
“You?”
His eyes run the length of me, darkening as they go.
He takes a step forward, but the second he does, his face hardens like he doesn’t actually want to come closer and his body’s moving of its own accord.
“Well, you didn’t actually fire me,” I state, popping my hip out.
“That doesn’t mean I think you’d come back, or change… for my benefit.” His eyes sparkle as the realisation that he has some kind of power over me must hit him.
I take a step towards him, squaring my shoulders and preparing to tell him what I really think of him. “Let’s get something straight here, Zachary. I did not, and will not ever change for a man, especially one as rude and arrogant as you. So you can get the idea that you had anything to do with this out of your massive egotistical head right now. I did this for me. I’ll give you the credit that you helped give me the push I needed, but that’s it.”
A smirk widens on his lips, and my hand twitches to reach out and slap it away. “Riiight.” He closes the space between us even more and something sparks the second I feel his heat seeping into my skin. I tell myself it’s my loathing for his attitude, but I fear it might be something else. “And what will your boyfriend think of this little change? I can’t imagine he’ll be all that impressed, seeing as he probably keeps you around to look good on his arm and make his mother happy.”
I bare my teeth in anger and he just laughs, making me want to hurt him.
“I’m no one’s trophy. No one owns me or has any influence over what I choose to wear.” A little voice in my head tells me that’s not true, seeing as I’ve been listening to my parents for far too many years of my life, but I slam her back inside the trapdoor she belongs behind.
“So you’re single then.”
I open my mouth to respond, but really he can’t be closer to the truth. A smile spreads across his face, making a dimple pop in his cheek, and damn him if it doesn’t make him look even better.
“If you turn out to be a shit admin, I guess I could make use of you in other ways.”
My eyes almost pop out of my head. “Did you just call me a hooker?”
He laughs, full on laughs in my face. “You think I’d need to pay you to get you into my bed?”
“There’s nothing in this world you could do that would get me there.”
He’s so close that our noses are almost touching, our breaths mingling. All I can smell is him, and fuck if it’s not making my knickers a little damp. His arrogance should not be affecting me right now. I should be turned off.
“I’ll take that as a challenge then, Tabby Cat.”
I suck in a huge breath through my nose, my eyes burning at hearing that nickname. Only Gran ever got away with calling me that. “Don’t. Don’t ever call me that. It’s Biff, Tabitha if you must, but not ever that.”
“Touch a nerve, did I, sweetheart?” He lifts his hand to tuck a lock of my pink hair behind my ear and I fight like hell not to lean into his soft touch. I refuse to allow him to affect me. I hate him.
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, my little pussy cat, I fully intend to.”
My teeth grind so hard I’m worried it’ll crack one.
We’re still staring daggers at each other when the bell above the door chimes, announcing someone else’s arrival.
“Whoa girl, what happened to you?” Titch takes my hand and thankfully tugs me away from Zach. He lifts his arm and encourages me to spin. I’m halfway around when Zach’s angry blue eyes catch mine. But this time, they’re not staring at me. He’s directing his death stare at Titch.
“Have you two just about fucking finished?” Zach seethes.
“Jesus, who pissed in your coffee this morning?”
“Go and do some work and stop eye-fucking our admin girl.”
The girl comment grates on me, but I decide to let it slide seeing as Zach now really is pumped for a fight.
“Aw, come on, man. Even you’ve got to admit how banging she’s looking. You might have been a wanker last night, but I’m tempted to say it was worth it seeing as this is the result.”
Zach mumbles something under his breath and turns to walk away.
“What you so pissy about? You basically told her to do this.”
He pauses in the doorway but obviously chooses not to respond, as a second later he continues again.
