Free Tattoo Thief (BOOK 1) by Heidi Joy Tretheway

I’ve built this up in my mind as a terrifying and confusing experience. The guys jumping around freak me out a little, but mostly I’m elated. They’re spinning around a pole, bodies perpendicular to it, all muscle and grace. I’m enthralled and grinning like an idiot and scrambling to get them a dollar.
    This is a New York show.
    And I almost missed it. If I’d been Eugene-Beryl, I would have taken the time to read the subway map, study the routes, and decide precisely how I should get to work.
    But now I’m New York-Beryl. A little less ready, aim and a lot more fire . I decide “try new things” will be my motto.
    I arrive at the office before Dan and work on copy for a flier we’ll send to residents we already work with and to people who have access to those we don’t.
    I make up services we could offer if someone asked for them, such as organizing closets and pantries, dry cleaning drop-offs and pick-ups, fully stocking fridges for the residents’ return, supervising plumbers and building professionals who make repairs in their absence, and a slew of other personal-assistant type tasks.
    I imagine that these people have more money than time, so they’ll be willing to pay me to take care of details. And I realize that I’m going to need references, so I decide Gavin’s apartment makes a good proving ground. I compose a letter based on his last request.

    Mr. Slater,

    I can assure you we’ve been discreet about the state of your apartment and it has now been professionally cleaned. Additionally, we are pleased to provide our extended services in addition to your house sitting and property management package.

    This will include removal of the clothing and personal items you mentioned from the gray guest room. We are also able to organize your kitchen, pantry, and closets. We will proceed unless otherwise instructed.

    Sincerely,
    B. Sutton
    Keystone Property Management

    I hit send and head to Dan’s office to pick up new files. He tells me my second house sitting gig starts tomorrow. It’s for one of his regular clients, a woman on the Upper East Side who’s headed to Los Angeles for a few weeks.
    When do these people work?
    When I get back to my desk, I see a message from Gavin.

    I don’t care. You figure it out.

    Rude! Gavin’s abrupt reply pushes my simmering resentment to a full boil. Before my brain can reign in my fingers, I click on his email address in the right-hand side of my screen and attempt to Google Chat with him.

    Me: Mr. Slater? Are you there?
    Gavin: Who’s this?
    Me: Beryl Sutton. From Keystone Property Management.
    Gavin: I thought it was Barry.
    Me: Never mind. I want to talk to you about your place. I have some questions.
    Gavin: What kind of a name is Beryl? Are you a guy or a girl?
    Me: It’s a good name. I was named after a famous pilot who crossed the Atlantic in her airplane, solo.
    Gavin: A woman? I thought that was Amelia Earhart.
    Me: There’s more than one woman pilot in history, asshole.

    My fingers freeze over the keyboard and adrenaline shoots through me. What the hell did I just do? After all the horrible things I’ve been thinking about Gavin, that word just flew from my fingers.
    I want to bang my head on my desk. I am so screwed.

    Me: Oh my God, Mr. Slater, I am SO sorry. I did not mean to type that. I meant there are more women pilots than *Amelia.* Please forgive me!!
    Gavin: Liar.
    Me: Excuse me, sir? I am truly sorry. That was totally unprofessional. It must have been autocorrect?
    Gavin: You’re a rotten liar. You meant to call me an asshole. Admit it.
    Me: No. I meant … it’s been a rough morning. PLEASE forgive me. I don’t want Keystone to lose your business because of my mistake.
    Gavin: Look, Beryl, it’s not like I haven’t heard it before. And if you lie about it, I’m not sure I can trust you with the rest of my business.
    Me: Mr. Slater, I am very, very, very sorry I called you an asshole. I totally did not mean to offend you. (Are