Chapter 1: Initial Consultation

Mira Bennett clicked her tablet screen off with a sigh and checked the time. Five minutes until her last appointment of the day. Her back ached from hunching over a client's intricate sleeve for four hours straight. She rotated her shoulders, wincing at the pop from her right one.

"Need me to stay?" Riley asked, leaning against the doorframe of Mira's private consultation room. Her purple-tipped blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she jingled her car keys hopefully.

"I can handle one more," Mira said, flexing her fingers. "Go enjoy your date. Text me if he turns out to be a serial killer."

Riley snorted. "If Jason's a serial killer, he's hiding it behind very boring accounting stories." She hesitated. "You sure? This new client specifically requested you. Sounded kind of intense on the phone."

"When don't they?" Mira straightened the portfolio books on the sleek consultation table. "Everyone thinks their tattoo is going to change the world." She pressed her palms against her lower back, trying to work out the knot that had formed there.

"Not like yours did for me," came a deep voice from the doorway.

Mira looked up to see Derek grinning at her, his heavily tattooed arms crossed over his chest. The Japanese-inspired dragon she'd designed for his back three years ago had won her first major award and put Siren's Call on the map.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Mira said. "I'm not covering your shift tomorrow."

"Worth a shot." Derek shrugged. "Your six o'clock is here. Looks corporate. Not your usual type."

Mira rolled her eyes. "I don't have a type."

"Sure you don't." Derek winked. "The consultation room might not be the best place. Bring him back to your studio. More privacy."

"For a consultation?" Mira raised an eyebrow.

Derek's grin widened. "Trust me on this one."

Before Mira could question him further, Derek disappeared, and Riley moved from the doorway, replaced seconds later by a man who made Mira's breath catch.

He was tall, with broad shoulders filling out an expertly tailored charcoal suit. Dark brown hair, touched with silver at the temples, framed a face with sharp cheekbones and clear blue-gray eyes that assessed her intensely. A small scar cut through his right eyebrow, the only imperfection in an otherwise camera-ready face. Mira felt a rush of heat up her neck and fought to keep her expression neutral.

"Mr. Cole?" Mira asked.

"Hayden, please." His voice matched his appearance, smooth and confident. When he extended his hand, she noticed the edge of a small tattoo peeking from beneath his shirt cuff.

His grip was firm but not aggressive, his hand warm against hers. The brief contact sent a tingle up her arm that she tried to ignore. "I appreciate you fitting me in, Ms. Bennett."

"Mira." She withdrew her hand, missing the warmth immediately. "Follow me."

Taking Derek's suggestion, she led Hayden past the consultation room to her private studio space in the back. Unlike the open-floor tattoo stations up front, her room offered complete privacy with a door that closed, soundproofing, and a high-end sound system. The walls displayed her award-winning designs and photographs of healed work.

Hayden took in the space with an appraising eye. "Impressive setup."

"Siren's Call specializes in custom work," Mira said, gesturing to the leather client chair. "We're not a walk-in shop."

"That's why I'm here." He remained standing, studying a framed photo of a back piece she'd completed last year. It was a woman's spine transformed into a tree of life, roots spreading across her lower back, branches reaching over her shoulders.

"Your work is extraordinary," he said. "The detail is remarkable."

"Thanks." Mira sat on her rolling stool, pulling her tablet toward her. "Tell me what you're looking for, Hayden."

He turned from the photos and took a seat, unbuttoning his suit jacket. "A phoenix."

"Original," Mira said before she could stop herself.

Instead of looking offended, Hayden laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Fair enough. But I'm hoping your interpretation will make it less clich�."

Mira studied him. Most clients would have bristled at her comment. "Why a phoenix?"

"The obvious rebirth symbolism." Hayden's eyes met hers directly. "I walked away from a seven-figure position at a hedge fund six months ago. Started over with a sustainable tech company focused on actual solutions rather than just profit."

"Impressive career change." Mira made a note on her tablet. "Where were you thinking of placing it?"

"Right shoulder blade, extending partly onto my upper back and arm." He traced the area with his hand. "Large enough to showcase detail, but coverable when needed."

Mira nodded. "I'd need to see the canvas. Can you remove your shirt?"

Amusement flickered in Hayden's expression before he stood and removed his jacket, draping it carefully over the chair's arm. His fingers moved to his tie, loosening it with ease before removing it entirely.

Mira kept her expression neutral as he unbuttoned his shirt, though her pulse quickened. She'd seen countless clients undress, but something about the way Hayden revealed himself made this feel different.

When he slid the shirt from his shoulders, Mira struggled to maintain her professional composure. Hayden Cole was not what she'd expected. His chest and arms were defined without being showy, the build of someone who exercised for function rather than appearance. A small tattoo marked his left wrist, and another caught her eye below his collarbone. It was script, something in Latin she couldn't quite make out. On his right bicep was another piece, older looking, some kind of tribal design that had probably been trendy a decade ago.

Mira swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "Turn, please." Her voice came out a bit hoarser than she intended.

He complied, and Mira assessed his back. The smooth expanse of skin was interrupted only by a small, somewhat amateurish tattoo on his opposite shoulder blade. It looked like a college mistake.

"Perfect canvas," she said, standing. "May I?"

At his nod, she approached, her fingers hovering just above his skin. "I'm going to touch your back to get a sense of muscle structure and placement."

"Go ahead."

Mira placed her hands on his shoulders, noting the warmth of his skin and the tension in his muscles. Her fingers traced the area where the phoenix would spread, mentally mapping dimensions.

"You're tight," she observed, feeling knots beneath her fingertips.

"Occupational hazard," Hayden said, his voice slightly lower than before. "Long hours at a desk."

Mira stepped back, clearing her throat. "I have some thoughts on the design. What elements are important to you?"

Hayden turned to face her, making no move to put his shirt back on. "I want it to feel like transformation rather than destruction. Most phoenix designs focus on the fire and ash. I'm more interested in the moment of rebirth."

"Wings spread or in movement?" Mira asked, picking up a stylus to sketch on her tablet.

"In flight," Hayden said, watching her hands as she worked. "Rising, but with purpose rather than desperation."

Mira nodded, quickly roughing out a concept. "Colors?"

"I trust your judgment," Hayden said, which made Mira glance up in surprise. Clients typically had strong opinions about color.

"You're giving me a lot of freedom," she observed.

"I've seen your portfolio." His eyes held hers. "Your instincts are why I'm here."

Heat crept up Mira's neck. She focused on the tablet, adding more detail to the rough sketch. "This would require multiple sessions. At least three, possibly four."

"I'm committed to the process," Hayden said. "Whatever it takes to get it right."

Something about the way he said it made Mira look up again. The intensity in his gaze seemed to extend beyond the tattoo discussion.

"Let me show you what I'm thinking." She turned the tablet toward him, revealing a sketch of a phoenix caught in mid-ascent, wings powerful but graceful. Unlike traditional designs, the bird emerged from what looked like morning mist rather than flames.

Hayden stepped closer to examine the drawing, bringing with him the subtle scent of expensive cologne. Standing this near, Mira was acutely aware of their height difference and the fact that he remained shirtless.

"This is..." He seemed genuinely affected by the drawing. "Exactly what I couldn't put into words."

"I can refine it more before our first session," Mira said, trying to ignore how close he stood. "Add more detail to the feather work, adjust the positioning."

"It's perfect," Hayden said, his voice dropping slightly. "When can we start?"

Mira pulled up her scheduling app, needing the distraction. "I have an opening this Friday evening. Last appointment of the day. It would give us enough time to get the outline started."

"Evening works better for me," Hayden said with a nod. "My schedule is unpredictable."

Mira made the appointment, then set her tablet aside. "I'll have a more detailed design ready by Friday. The first session will be about two hours, primarily outlining."

Hayden nodded again, finally reaching for his shirt. As he buttoned it up, covering the amazing body underneath, Mira caught herself watching his fingers work the buttons, trying not to drool.

"Do you have any questions for me?" she asked, clearing her throat.

"Just one." Hayden tucked his shirt back into his pants. "What made you choose tattoo artistry? With your talent, you could be working in any medium."

The question caught her off guard. Most clients didn't ask about her.

"Permanence," she answered honestly. "I like creating something that becomes part of someone. Canvas art hangs on walls, but tattoos live with people. They change as the person changes."

A smile tugged at the corner of Hayden's mouth. "I like that."

He reached for his tie, threading it under his collar. Without thinking, Mira stepped forward.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the slightly crooked knot.

Hayden looked surprised but lowered his hands. "Be my guest."

Mira stepped forward. Her fingers brushed against his as she took hold of his tie. She tried to focus on the task, but standing this close to him made it difficult to think clearly. She could feel the heat from his body, see the faint stubble along his jaw. His eyes watched her as she worked, and she felt exposed under his gaze.

"You've done this before," Hayden observed, standing perfectly still as she adjusted the knot. His voice rumbled in his chest, and she could almost feel the vibration of it with her hands so close.

"My father," she explained, focusing on the tie rather than how her body was responding to him. "He never could get it right. I started fixing his ties when I was eight."

She finished and stepped back, immediately regretting the impulse. It had been too familiar, too intimate for a client.

"Thank you." Hayden's voice was warm. He slipped his jacket back on, transforming back into the polished executive who had walked through her door.

"I'll see you Friday," Mira said, holding out her hand to shake his.

Instead of a handshake, Hayden took her hand and turned it over, examining the small tattoo that covered her inner wrist. His thumb traced the pattern lightly, and goosebumps raced up her arm at his touch.

"Your own work?" he asked, his thumb brushing over the design again. The gentle pressure made her pulse jump.

"Yes." Mira's voice came out softer than intended. She couldn't seem to pull her hand away despite knowing she should. "My first."

"Beautiful." His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and the heat in them made her breath catch. After a moment that stretched too long, he released her hand and reached into his jacket, producing a business card. "In case you need to reach me about the design."

Mira took the card, noting the embossed logo of Genesis Tech. It was one of the most talked-about sustainable technology companies in Chicago.

"Chief Strategy Officer," she read aloud.

"A fancy title for the guy who makes sure we're doing the right things for the right reasons," Hayden said with a self-deprecating smile.

"From hedge funds to sustainable tech," Mira mused. "That's quite a phoenix story."

"It's still being written," Hayden said, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. "The most important transformations are always in progress, don't you think?"

Before Mira could respond, he stepped toward the door. "Until Friday, then."

"Friday," she echoed, watching him leave.

As his footsteps receded down the hallway, Mira sank onto her stool, looking down at the business card still in her hand and the phoenix sketch on her tablet. Her heart was beating too fast, and she pressed a hand to her chest as if to calm it.

This was ridiculous. He was a client, nothing more. An attractive client, sure, but she'd tattooed plenty of good-looking people without getting flustered like a teenager.

A memory flashed through her mind. Max, the client whose relationship had nearly cost her her career and reputation. The whispers behind her back when the story broke, the looks from other artists. Never again, she'd promised herself.

Then why couldn't she stop thinking about the feeling of Hayden's skin beneath her fingertips? Why did she keep replaying the way his eyes had darkened when she'd touched him?

Mira set the card down and picked up her stylus, forcing herself to focus on refining the phoenix design. She'd channel this unexpected attraction into creating something extraordinary for him. That's what professionals did.

Just another client, she told herself firmly. Nothing more.