Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Inside, Kai takes the chair behind the desk. Gage closes the door after I enter, and I swallow back a lump of fear. All the guilt I’ve shoved down deep feels like it’s rising and clogging my throat.
They don’t offer me a seat, so I stand in the open space on the other side of the desk and try to steady my breathing.
“We’ve had a complaint,” Kai says.
Quickly, I scan through the possibilities, and nothing comes to mind outside of routine tattoo-related issues: someone unhappy with their tattoo for various reasons, or a problem with their healing process. These complaints aren’t frequent, but they’re typical and more or less expected. Those types of complaints wouldn’t have Gage and Kai calling me into a private meeting.
“A client who’s been to this location multiple times has reported a pattern of poor service and rude treatment,” he continues.
My mouth parts in surprise, as I frantically search my memory. Frank and Zeb are gruff and often don’t say much, but I’ve never heard of anyone complaining about them before. “Okay …”
“They also said that pictures of their tattoos were posted online after they explicitly said they didn’t agree to that.”
“Wait, what?” The picture-taking and posting is my responsibility.
“You can’t post people’s pictures without their approval,” Gage says.
“I … I know that, and I’m very careful about it. I always ask permission before I take a picture, and I note their approval or lack thereof in the system.”
The two men exchange an uneasy look, as my stomach continues to churn.
“What were the specific complaints about rude treatment?” I’m afraid to ask, but I need to know.
Kai hesitates for a beat, as if he’s trying to remember the details. “The client said they didn’t feel valued. They said they were ignored at reception, spoken to rudely, and there were scheduling mixups.”
My hand goes to my chest. “They said this about me?”
Kai nods, then looks to Gage.
“I’ve never been rude to a client.”
“There was more.” Gage’s tone is ominous, and somehow, I know what’s coming. “This person also said they witnessed several instances of inappropriate behavior between the receptionist and the artists.”
Inside, guilt is setting in hard, but I also know the four of us have been discreet—for the most part.
“Inappropriate behavior?” My voice is thick when I echo the accusation.
Gage clears his throat. “Yes … um … flirting, touching, that sort of thing.”
My mouth has gone dry, and I yearn desperately for the bottle of water that’s out on my desk. “Griffin and I goof around sometimes. Nothing like that, but maybe playfulness was misconstrued as something else.” What I’m saying isn’t untrue, but the way I’m lying by omission makes me feel horrible.
Gage nods slowly.
“But the rest of that—that’s not true. I don’t know why someone would think that.”
“We don’t want to believe any of it, Ember, but we have to take complaints seriously. We never had reason to doubt you before, but there was that issue recently, when Zeb had to come over to get a basic supply because you ran out. Is it possible you’re getting in over your head here?”
If they only knew. I’ve been in way over my head since the night I was with all three of the men.
“That’s not the case,” I manage to assure them. It feels like an outright lie, but when it comes to my job, I am handling things, that one oversight aside.
What I’m apparently not handling are my schoolwork and my relationships—or whatever you want to call what’s going on between me and the three men I spend all my time with.
“I’m not sure where we go from here,” Gage says. “We’re not necessarily taking the complaint at face value, since it was the first time we’ve heard anything like this, but maybe we should make more frequent visits to make sure you have all you need to be successful here.”
I’m going to be babysat, from the sounds of it. It seems unfair, and also completely justified at the same time. I haven’t been rude to customers, but I have been very, very guilty of other wrongdoing as a manager.
I start to ask who made the complaint, but guilt about what I’ve been doing with the men I work with silences me.
Kai stands, and I let out a breath, meeting over. But any relief is premature.
“Oh, Lexy told us your apartment was condemned?” Gage says.
The skin on my face suddenly flames, while my spine goes icy cold. “That’s right.”
“And you’re staying with the guys here? They had room for you?”
It takes everything in me to keep my voice steady. “Temporarily, yes. Just until I find a new place.”
There’s an extra beat in the length of time they look at me, and I feel certain they know everything, even though I outright lied to Lexy and told her nothing was going on.