Free Draw Me In by Regina Cole Regina Cole Page B

cranky assholes, but when things got complicated, I was forced to pick up the phone and dial Neill’s extension.
    “Hey.” His warm, deep voice melted my insides. “You okay?”
    “They’re standing about four deep out here. Mind lending me a hand?”
    “Two seconds.”
    I hung up the phone and smiled at the customer. “Sorry for the wait. How can I help you?”
    After a brief conversation, I handed over portfolios for the customer to look through while Neill greeted the people who’d been waiting for me to finish taking a payment that the credit card machine refused to process. My smile was feeling brittle, my nerves frayed. After Neill got the customers settled with artists, appointments, or the piercer, he came to my side and squeezed my tense shoulder. I wanted to relax against his warm grip, but I was afraid if I did, I’d break.
    “Hey, you okay?” His voice was calm, concerned.
    “Sure!” My response was too bright to be genuine, and I knew it. Hopefully, Neill wouldn’t see through my bullshit. Not right now, with clients only feet away from us.
    He looked down at me with a twist to his lips that indicated he wasn’t buying it.
    “Seriously, I’m fine. I need to make a copy of these consent forms, though, so can you keep an eye on the desk?”
    “No problem,” Neill said. “After you do that, go take ten minutes. Step outside, get some fresh air. You’ve been through the wringer so far today.”
    I didn’t argue. A few minutes at the copier later, I’d breezed through the lobby and stepped out the back door. The quiet of a Sunday-afternoon downtown was soothing, and once the silence surrounded me, I realized how tense I’d become.
    The little parking lot was, thankfully, pretty secluded. With enough room for about eight vehicles and only one exit, it was an insulated patch of nothing but gravel and the concrete blocks surrounding it. I sank onto a parking bumper, tucking my knees beneath my chin. A breeze tickled my face as I rubbed the sweaty water bottle between my hands, my brain running too fast to keep up. What had I been thinking? This was way more than I could handle.
    As much as I hated to admit it, Dr. Fields may have been right. Could I handle this job, at this pace, while studying for exams? What about when I had a project due? Weekends were when I got the most drawing and painting done for class projects, not to mention my personal artwork. That time would be completely sacrificed if I kept this job.
    My eyes welled, and I sniffed. I hadn’t really thought about that.
    Gulping water helped to ease the clogging in my throat, and I stretched my legs out in front of me, the backs of my sandals making divots in the gravel. Dragging the warm spring air into my lungs, I blew it out, imagining that the exhale held my worries and stress.
    A quick glance at my watch revealed that only five minutes had gone by. I still had time to try to figure things out.
    I set the water bottle down, twisting it into the gravel to keep it from falling over. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I looked up at the sky. It would be great to think out loud, but I’d seem like an idiot if anyone came out here and caught me talking to myself. Who could I talk to? Dr. Fields was out. Even though he’d been a wonderful sounding board in the past, something had changed when I told him about this job. Despite his medical background, he didn’t seem impartial about my job. Lily, or Rose, maybe I could talk to.
    My hand drifted to my pocket, feeling the hard edge of my cellphone.
    The last time I’d tried this, the phone must have screwed up. That was the only explanation for Mom’s phone to be out of service. Should I try again?
    I glanced at my watch. Three minutes left on break. Enough time? It’d have to be.
    I pulled the phone free and unlocked the screen. Before I could open the contacts, a voice behind me made me jump.
    “Hey, kid, do you have those consent forms on the girl who wants the bumblebee? I’m