Free Society Girls: Matisse by Crystal Perkins

to this guy when she
climbed on his lap and started making out with him. Then, she said
she was taking her break, even though I’m here waiting for a
tattoo.”
    “Does she have an appointment with you?”
    “Nope,” Matisse says. “I just finished a
two-hour session with my last appointment. I have—had an hour
before my next one.”
    He nods and turns back to the girl. “So, let
me get this straight. You came into my shop—which has a two year
waiting list—and tried for a walk-in appointment, in which case you
were probably told you could wait and see if anyone was willing to
fit you in. Anyone but me, that is, because I don’t do
walk-ins.”
    “But,” she starts to say until he holds up
his hands to stop her.
    “Not done yet. Now, while you were waiting,
you saw the good doctor here showing off his muscles and decided to
hit on him. You couldn’t know he’s showing the skin for his lady,
but I’m guessing you also didn’t back off when he declined whatever
offers you made. Matisse came out, and saw what was going down, so
she made sure you knew he wasn’t available, and then—for obvious
reasons—she declined to work on you.”
    “She’s insubordinate!”
    “She hasn’t done a damn thing to me.”
    “Refusing to bring money into your shop is
damaging to you.”
    “Sweetheart, what part of ‘two-year waiting
list’ did you not understand?”
    “You don’t want extra money? You could buy
your mom a house or something.”
    He laughs out loud at that, and frankly, so
do I. Helen Wilson is one of the wealthiest women in the country,
and she built her businesses—and helped found the Society—while
being a single mother.
    “My mom would no sooner let me buy her a
house than she’d give up her string of boy toys. Now, why don’t you
go on and walk out of here while you still have some dignity
left.”
    “You’re throwing me out?”
    “I am.”
    “You’ll be sorry.”
    “Do I need to call the police?”
    “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says,
storming out.
    “Never a dull moment around here,” Zane
says, shaking his head.
    “I wasn’t trying to start anything,” Matisse
says, weakly.
    “Really? You just greet Kendrick by climbing
on his lap every time you see him?”
    “Well, not every time, but that’s
because sometimes he’s standing.”
    “You have your hands full, man. You know
that, right?” he asks me.
    “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
    “I feel the same way about Quinn,” he says,
and then looks at the box from Drago. “Is there an éclair in that
box?”
    “For you, boss, there just might be,”
Matisse tells him, opening it up, and handing one over.
    “Go take your break. I’ll clean up your
station.”
    She hugs him, and then leads me upstairs to
the large employee space. Zane is insistent on his employees having
a good time, so there’s a large living room like space with
multiple couches, chairs and loveseats. That’s bordered by a few
bathrooms and rooms where they can nap, study, and just be
alone.
    Matisse starts to lead me to one of the
rooms, but I remind her that the rooms have been used by lots of
people. She tells me anyone who uses the rooms for anything
involving body fluids has to wash all the bedding, so I let her
take me inside. Like I’m going to ever turn her down.

Chapter 8
    Matisse
    I don’t realize how much I needed this
girls’ night, until I’m having the first sip of my whiskey and
Coke. “So good,” I say, looking around The Griffin bar.
    Yes, we’re here because it’s somewhat
ironic, with the Griffin family being such a big part of the
Society, but also because the drinks are good and the vibe is
chill. Rose got here early and snagged us benches around a fire
pit, and we’re getting our drink on before we go in the back and
dance. Just the thing to top of an above-average day.
    “How was your afternoon snack?” Harlow asks
me with a smirk.
    “Crazy, but good.”
    I tell them all what happened, and how