Let Me Put You In The Picture: Version 1

Chapter 192

           

I was quite proud of Liam. He was finally getting the hang of designing Power Points on his own...but he still needed a little help.

            "Hang on!" He said grabbing my arm and keeping me from leaving his office. "Ya still gotta show us how to-"

            "Click here." I instructed pointing at the computer screen. "You already know how to do the rest."

            "But-"

            "My ten-thirty's waiting for me downstairs." I headed towards the door. "I shouldn't be gone more than fourty-five minutes."

            He continued to stare at me with worried eyes. "But-"

            "You'll be fine." I assured him. "I'll be back before you know it."

            Some A-Listers scheduled ahead of time and gave us an idea of what they were looking for so we could prepare a selection for them. Others just showed up expecting us to drop everything and cater to them. I expected more rudeness than anything else and was shocked when I didn't really encounter any. Most people who came into the shop just wanted a good look to go along with the good music they listened to.

            I was also surprised when the one that day scheduled. The time and the ability to orchestrate just didn't seem like his kind of personality. But I never met him before so I really shouldn't have judged ahead of time. The only thing I had to go off of was the characters he played on TV and in films...and most of those left a lot to be desired...personality wise anyway.

            He was by himself and sported a Pretty Green short sleeved button down. Skinny jeans and Doc Martens. All he needed was to grow his hair out a bit and he'd be one of his more famous characters.

            "Alright!" He said with a nod.

            "Alright." I couldn't keep the grin from spreading across my face. "We've got some coats picked out for you to look at. Follow me."

            He didn't want any shirts he said. With it being winter, he felt a new parka was more important. And he certainly didn't seem like the type who'd be arsed for a scarf.

            I tried not to stare at him too much but since I was there helping him pick out a coat, I guess I got a free pass.

            He was as tall and lanky as Serge Pizzorno. The only difference was his hair was way shorter, he had no facial hair, and I was really glad he didn't bother with eyeliner. It just wouldn't have been a good look for him. Serge could get away with it (there were a select few who could) but I don't think this guy could.

            He tried a coat on but didn't like it so he put it back on the rack. When he began searching through the rack again, I took the opportunity to ogle at his tattoos.

            They covered his arms and were so random and unique.

            "Can I ask you something?" I asked.

            He looked at me. "Sure." He replied. "What's up?"

            "Are all them tattoos real?"

            He smiled. "Course they are!"

            I smiled back shyly. "Cool."

            He turned back to the clothes rack. "Have you any tattoos?" He asked raising his eyebrows a little.

            "No." I shook my head. "Not my bag. Some people make 'em look good but not me."

            "So what's this I hear you're gonna be a disk jockey?" His pronunciation of the last word as "jock-eh" nearly brought me to my knees.