Taking Chances Pt. 01

The Woman At The Manhattan.

Beauty is a much sought after quality, the fashion industry spends billions every year trying to create an iconic look. Women flock to the stores or browse websites to buy clothes worn by professional models and yet beauty is an elusive quality.

I've seen many beautiful women over the years but now and then one stands out from the crowd. It could be the way they dressed or their hair style, sometimes it was a stolen look that hinted of something else. More often than not the woman was straight but whether straight or gay they were quite often with someone else.

The first time I saw her that looked to be the case. It was in the Manhattan hotel in Ringwood, a sprawling megaplex of a hotel on the corner of two busy main roads in Melbourne's outer eastern suburbs. It was a Friday night when I ambled into the hotel and after buying a beer I walked over to a pool table and took a seat to await a vacant table. I'm a pretty good player and Friday night was my usual night to shoot balls. I bring my own cue when I go out playing pool.

One table looked promising. There were two people at it, a man and a woman who seemed to be just fooling around. The man I disregarded straight away but the woman caught my eye. She had shoulder-length brown hair and an aquiline shaped face. She wore a red, strapless dress with a generous half cape around the neckline, it had a flared skirt and a white belt at her waist matched her cream heels.

She'd caught the eye of men at other tables but because the man she was with looked as if he could handle himself no one made so much as eye contact, at least not while he was looking at them. The guy was built like a rugby player and although he seemed friendly enough, there was something in his eyes that hinted of sudden violence if someone crossed him. You didn't have to be Einstein to work out she felt safer in his company, women like safety and security.

A lot of straight women hang around me for much the same reason. I'm twenty nine and heavily tattooed, which stands to reason as I'm a registered tattoo artist but men step carefully around me. I'm often seen with beautiful women but if I was to tick off the number of those women I've actually slept with, it would be somewhere around the five percent mark.

I'm great at getting to know straight women but when it comes to bedding them I'm not so quick off the mark but more of that later. Needless to say, while other guys were perving on this guy's woman, I was getting a little eyeful myself and kind of getting turned on.

I know it was why I approached them just as the game finished. I just wanted to get closer to the woman even if it was just a friendly game. He Man gave me the once over. I was wearing a white button down shirt with the cuffs folded part way up my arm and jeans.

"Nice tatts," he nodded.

"You like my work then?" I put my cue case on the edge of the table, "I'd show you more but I'm only wearing a bra under this."

"You're a tattooist?"

"Yeah," I nodded at his girlfriend, "Kelly's the name, how'd you and your lovely lady like to play me, two on one?"

He opened his mouth to reply but then the woman stepped in between us. She was so close I could smell her shampoo. She looked me straight in the eye. Where He Man was macho and full of bravado, she was almost cat-like in her study of me. She had a look in her eyes that I've seen on women on the hunt, but I thought I'd overstepped my mark. A moment later I felt a hand on my wrist and I looked down as she slid the sleeve up to my elbow to study the sleeve.

"You did this?"

"Yeah," I replied, "I've been doing tattoos for years."

"Nice work," she pushed up the sleeve on my other arm and when she'd examined it, she took a step back to look at the flowers around my neck, "are you tattooed all over?"

"Arms, legs, back and a couple here," I touched my breasts.

"Nice work," she stepped back.

"I'm up for a game but not if there's money involved, no one carries a pool cue into a pub unless they're looking to win money and we were just fucking around."

"I can play for fun too, it's why I introduced myself."

"Whatever," she propped against the table, "I'm Jodie and this is my friend, Scott."

"Kelly," I held out my hand.

We shook hands and I took out my money.

"I'll shout the first game, but if I win you pay for the second."

"Deal," she stepped forward and nudged Scott, "get me a drink and we'll set them up."

"So, where do you work?" Jodie asked as we set up the balls.

"Got my studio out in Upwey, it's only been up and running for six months but I'm getting regular clients nowadays. It's slower than I thought but I'm getting there."

"Six months," she arranged the balls into a triangle, "and before that?"

"Unemployed for nearly twelve months. I did a NEIS program," I glanced at her, "that's..."

"New Enterprise and Incentive Scheme," she finished for me, "I was an accountancy lecturer for the NEIS course out at Box Hill for two years but then I had to pull out for a family emergency and by the time I got myself back on track they had a very good lecturer. I've been thinking of getting back into it next year, I did enjoy the sessions."

"I found the accounting section really hard, I've never been good at maths."

"I love figures," she looked me up and down and smiled playfully, "I was very good at maths and balancing budgets is almost as good as sex."

"I'll take your word on it."

Scott came up at that moment with their drinks and she took a sip and inclined her head.

"Well, don't just stand there, toss the coin."

There was something in the way she addressed this mountain of muscle that just turned me on. He tossed, I lost and he broke.

As games go it wasn't my best but I was distracted by Jodie. However, Scott was drunk enough to blow more chances than yours truly and eventually I potted the black.

"Looks like another game is in order."

"Yeah, well," he turned around and focused on one of the televisions.

"Scott," Jodie nudged him, "why don't you get me another lemon squash and I'll play the next game with Kelly."

Give a man a choice of watching the footy or getting his arse beaten in pool by a woman and he'll take the first option every time and soon we were happily chatting away. She seemed to lose her reserve once he was standing in front of the telly with a beer.

"Tell me something," she leaned over to pot a ball, "do you swing left or right?"

"Pardon?" I asked as she potted a ball into a corner pocket right by my crotch.

"Are you gay or straight?"

"Gay."

"I had a feeling but you can't always judge by appearances," she straightened up, "I swing right but now and then I do take a good look at the left."

"So you're curious?"

"Not that curious," she smiled, "but it's one of those things I do think about from time to time."

She glanced over her shoulder, almost as if she'd read my mind.

"Scott is my boarder, but he's also my best friend."

Now I was interested.

Jodie McNaughton was thirty two years old. She'd been married at twenty three and it lasted for nearly five years before they broke up. After that she'd thrown in the towel as a tax consultant for H & R Block and started her own accounting business. She worked from her home in Selby.

"The bulk of my work is still tax refunds but lately I've been doing the books for small businesses, tradesmen and the like."

We played one more game after that before she got tired of it.

"Come on, escort me to the shithouse, there's something I need to see."

We detoured via Scott and there was a conversation that lasted the better part of a minute before he shrugged and turned away. We stepped into the toilet and she seemed almost carefree as we walked along the row of cubicles and stopped at the very end one.

"Step into my office," she nudged me.

I know I hesitated but it was only for a second. She'd said curious but not that curious. At that point I thought this was about the fastest come on move I'd seen in a long time.

"Well? Let's see these tatts."

I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall free. She studied my arms and then made me turn around, I felt her fingers tracing my designs and then she took a step back, dropped her panties and sat down. It took me by surprise. Here was me locked in a cubicle with my shirt undone and she had her panties around her ankles and her dress hoisted up over her legs.

"Sorry," was all she managed before she emptied her bladder.

I managed to distract myself by rearranging my wardrobe and pretending that this kind of thing happens all the time. She had this intense look on her face and it was not from answering a call of nature. The woman was thinking, but about what?

It was all revealed as she washed her hands in front of the mirror a few minutes later.

"Do you have an accountant yet?"

"No, I've got my mentors I go and see every quarter, I've just had a session last week but it's something I need to get because I'm hopeless when it comes to balancing books, left to my own devices I could really cook them to a crisp."

"I have a proposition for you," she held her hands under the dryer and I waited until it had stopped blowing air. "I'll do your books once a month if you do me."

"What?"

"Tatts," she took out a brush, "I want one on my back, one on my shoulder and one on my thigh, I pick the designs, I've got a few in mind. You turn up with your books, I do my thing and then whenever you can book a time slot, you come up to my place to do my tattoo and I hand you back your perfectly balanced books."

One of those financial gurus once wrote that you should never take the first deal but I never read that book and so I said yes in a heartbeat.

"Gee that was quick," she slipped a hand into the crook of my arm and led me out of the toilet but once we were outside she released me and we made our way back to Scott. They left not long after that and she handed me a card.

"Call me when you're ready to come up," she held out her hand.

As I drove home an hour or so later I found myself drifting into fantasy land. Was this woman playing with me?

***

Selby is just outside of Belgrave, in the middle of Puffing Billy country. The old steam train stops at the old station on its way to Gembrook, my grandmother took me on it when I was in primary school. It's a tiny town with a population of just over 1,600. It attracts a lot of tourists hoping to see Australian wildlife but it's a bitch of a place for bushfires. Every year the locals pray for a cool summer and the local fire station is always on standby. Every spring the locals clean the dead leaves out of their guttering and cut back overhanging branches.

I've always loved the winding roads of Mt Dandenong, especially on my bike but that day I took my car, a 1976 Chrysler Charger that runs on LPG and goes like shit off a shanghai. Her house was at the end of a steep driveway and had a good view of the road below. It's built in Western Red Cedar with a long verandah out the front. The small front lawn was hemmed in by a well kept garden of bushes and flowers. I heard dogs barking from the back yard.

I rang the bell and a moment later I saw the sign saying Office at Rear and an arrow pointing back along the verandah. I followed the direction of the arrow and walked up the driveway beside the house to a five foot tall cyclone fence. At the end of the driveway was a small bungalow also of Western Red Cedar but as I trudged towards it, a Blue Heeler hurled himself at the fence barking like crazy. Another dog loped towards the fence as well, this one was a large Rottweiler although he seemed to be the more placid of the two.

"Tam, shut that fucking racket," Jodie yelled as she opened the door.

Tam stopped barking and she smiled.

"Sorry about that. He's Scott's dog and he barks at his own shadow."

"So the Rottie is yours?"

"Jack's my dog, he actually comes from the same father as Tam believe it or not."

I ascended the five steps to the tiny porch overlooking a much larger back yard. The fence cut the bungalow off from the yard but there was a gate at the back and another closer to the house. At the back of the house was a wooden pergola, on one side was the obligatory barbecue and the other side had an oven built with fire bricks. I could hear a Celine Dion song playing in the office.

"Nice place you got here."

"Thanks," she peered out over the roof, "Scott built the pergola, he has his own landscape business but doing the pergola was a freebie and it does benefit both of us."

"Nice guy."

"He is," she peered at my car, "one of my ex boyfriends used to own a Charger."

"His name wasn't Tony was it?"

"Greg," she took a step back, "come in, do you want a coffee or tea?"

"Um, coffee thanks, black, no sugar."

"Just like your women?"

"Ha ha," I grimaced as I shut the door, "to be honest I've never been out with a black woman and it's not for the lack of trying."

"I've never been out with a black man," she grinned, "I've certainly flirted with them but maybe I wasn't their type," she flicked the button on the kettle.

"Cosy office though."

"It is," she turned the music down. "It was a chook shed when I moved in. I had it completely gutted and rebuilt, I've never looked back since," she indicated a chair at the desk.

"Pull up a pew and make yourself at home."

I sat down to take stock of my surroundings while she made coffee. One of the things I noticed was her blouse, it didn't strike me as being standard office attire. It was a soft pink silk, the ruffled collar was held together by three off centre gold buttons, the ruffles cascaded down the front to hide the other buttons.

"What?"

"Just wondering where you bought the shirt?"

"Style on me," she flicked at the ruffles, "it's an internet site, you like it?"

"Not on me but my nanna would certainly wear that."

"Just put the words together and add the dot com after it. I love it, but I can see you wearing something like this though."

"Maybe," my eyes flickered to the black pinstripe skirt, "sorry, I wasn't you know."

"Checking me out?" Jodie chuckled, "check away, you know what side of the fence I'm on but considering our little agreement you'll get to see a lot more."

It was a throwaway line in reference to our deal. It also sounded flirtatious but I thought it was innocent enough until the end of our session when she leaned back and stretched, a sly smile nudged her lips.

"This looks fairly easy but I will tell you that I require the utmost honesty from my clients, so if you're hiding a pile of money under your shirt or any other place, I need to know how much and where you got it. I've had some very generous offers from some very crooked people to hide their ill gotten gains and I always refuse them."

"It's all there," I replied, "I keep all my receipts."

"So I see," she eyed my shoebox, "it might be an idea to staple them together and keep them all in chronological order, it makes my job so much easier," she leaned over and opened a drawer.

"But now we've got that out of the way, let's show some skin," she smiled at me and took out a drawing of a dragon.

"Nice drawing," I studied it.

"Yeah," she undid her collar and started unbuttoning the blouse, "I'll show you where I want it," she stood up and pulled the blouse out of the waistband.

Despite the fact I thought she was beautiful, I kept my cool as she parted the blouse and turning around, dropped it onto the desk to expose her back.

"I want it here," she reached around to the small of her back, "and is it possible to have the tail curling over my cheek? The drawing I've got is about the size I want."

I reached over and touched her spine.

"It's going to hurt like fuck here because of the bone but yeah, the tail can reach your arse, I can take this drawing with me?"

"Yeah, I printed it out for you," she pulled the blouse back over her shoulders and proceeded to button it again, "when can you do it?"

"This Saturday night?"

"Perfect," she looked at my shoe box of receipts, "I'll have your books done by then."

"No worries," I rose, "I'll make up the transfer."

"Any advice?" Jodie asked me as she walked me to the end of her driveway.

"Just wear loose clothing, tracksuit pants and a tee shirt, oh and don't drink beforehand, it thins the blood out."

"What about dope?"

"Dope is fine," I looked at her, "I didn't take you for a smoker."

"I'm not, Scott likes a pipe after work and I'm usually on the wine but now and then I have a pipe or two. He goes to his girlfriend's place most weekends so we won't be disturbed."

Saturday night came around too soon and for some reason I was a little nervous and I couldn't explain why. I've done this for people many times over the years, maybe my gaydar was working overtime but I couldn't escape the feeling she was flirting. However, to jump the gun with a straight woman has been a lesson I learned early on, fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Just do the tattoo and not her.

Jodie was wearing almost exactly what I'd suggested, a pair of tracksuit pants and a black tank top but before the session she wanted a smoke and so I sat and watched her smoke a couple of bongs. She had an intense look on her face as she studied the transfer I'd prepared.

"So where did you learn to draw?"

I hesitated before I told her.

"In jail."

"Jail," she eyed me, "what were you in jail for, if you don't mind me asking."

"Armed robbery," I replied.

Jodie stared at me and then laughed, whether it was the dope or the shock of finding out you're sitting six feet away from a convicted armed robber I don't know, probably both.

"I was seventeen at the time, there were two guys involved as well. We did over a Seven Eleven store in Brunswick and got all the way to Preston before we were busted for running a red light in front of a cop car."

She was still looking at me.

"I did nine months for it and haven't broken the law since. I wasn't actually the one holding the gun by the way. Because I was the girl, they got me to stay in the car and look out for the cops. I cracked under pressure when they questioned me and did the unthinkable and dobbed them in, which helped reduce my sentence. I was looking at four to five years."

"Oh," she pursed her lips and looked past me, "well that's good. I'm sorry if I laughed but when you said armed robbery I thought you were joking."

"I was young and stupid."

"It's funny," she put the bong down, "I could have gone the same way, maybe. My dad's a retired cop with Maroondah C.I.B and when I was eighteen I started hanging around with the Coffin Cheater's. My dad hit the bloody roof and he took me into the police evidence room and showed me what these guys did to people."

"So you got scared straight."

"I couldn't sleep for days and when Animal came around to see me I had dad go out wearing his gun and badge. Animal took one look at him and took off, I never saw him again."

She stretched and locked her hands behind her head.

"Well, shall we?"

Jodie laid the cushions from the couch on the floor and stretched out. She pulled her tank top off, she wasn't wearing a bra and she did look over her shoulder.

"Would you rather I wore a bra?"

"Nope, I'm too busy concentrating on tattooing to check you out."

"I wouldn't mind if you did anyway," she shrugged, "you're gay and I'm straight."

She pulled her tracksuit pants and panties part way down her buttocks.

"If my girlfriends could see me now," she giggled, "me with my arse bared in front of a lesbian tattooist, I never did do things by halves."

I do talk to my clients while I'm working but most of the time I'm too focused. However because we were alone in her home, and due to my admission, I found myself opening up about me. I never knew my dad but I have vague memories of mum, more like snatches of memories because she was found dead of an overdose when I was five.