Page 56 of Not Another Rockstar
Sensing her nerves, Axel took Phoebe’s hand, and knocked on the door.
She peered over her shoulder. “All the other shops have flowers by the door and brightly coloured awnings—a blacked-out shop is the opposite of discreet.”
“I like this woman; she says what’s on her mind.” A woman with a pink buzz cut, many piercings and a mischievous smile opened the door. Unique, striking with a hint of terrifying—from Phoebe’s wide eyes, she loved it. Axel had known they would get along.
“Claudia, I didn’t expect you to be awake this early,” Axel said, giving her a quick hug.
Despite the late hour of the afternoon, Claudia looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Another woman in a purple dress and blushed cheeks joined Claudia in the doorway and kissed her tattooed cheek. Axel winked at Phoebe as the two women said a quick goodbye.
“I wasn’t, I haven’t been to bed yet.” Claudia watched the woman walk down the street with no shame. “I’m being terribly rude—you must be Phoebe. I’ve heard many things about you.”
“From the band?” Phoebe asked.
Axel knew Claudia was trying to make him nervous. He didn’t want Phoebe to know how much he talked about her artwork.
“Who else? They’re among my favourite clients.” Claudia smiled, glancing at Axel, who focused on the new artwork on Claudia’s wall. Phoebe stared at the many prints hanging over the old fireplace. This homage to so many artists must have been heaven to her.
“I thought you’d be best to do Phoebe’s first,” Axel said, following them both into the studio, “since you’ve done all our tattoos.”
“Except for August, who refuses to let me anywhere near him.” Claudia pouted.
“Don’t take it personally. He hates being touched, let alone by needles,” Phoebe assured her, taking a seat on the pink chaise by a giant tank containing a multitude of exotic fish.
“Since we were in the area, I thought we would stop in and inconvenience you,” Axel said, sitting on the stool by the tattoo bench.
“No inconvenience at all. How long have you been in Amalfi?” Claudia asked.
“Only a few days, we had some things to sort out,” Phoebe said. Axel sensed she didn’t want to give away too much information since everything they did at the minute had a habit of turning up in the press.
“Well, I’m honoured to make your list. It can’t be that long since I’ve seen you—London? You got a snail on your ankle after the show?” Claudia’s bleached brows pulled together as she tried to recall. Axel rolled his eyes, not all too fond of the memory.
“A snail?” Phoebe asked, glancing at his ankles, which were luckily covered by his socks. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen his tattoos when he was naked, but he preferred to keep her focus elsewhere in those moments. Even thinking about her by the pool yesterday made him want to jump into the ocean to cool down.
“Because he’s always the last one on stage,” Claudia answered for him, distracting him from his fond memories.
“It was a bet,” Axel sighed, not elaborating.
“I got to fly first class, free champagne. I nearly messed up the fine lines.” Claudia walked through the open-plan studio to a small kitchen area and got some ice out of the freezer. She cleared her throat, and Axel knew what she was about to say but wished she wouldn’t.
“I was sorry to hear about Cillian, poor idiot. You never know when your time’s up.” Claudia’s condolences came out with a puff of smoke from her vape.
“You missed the funeral. Nick said he called you.” Axel had been surprised she didn’t attend, but she had sent a beautiful flower arrangement to the house.
“I had a show that couldn’t be moved, and I have to pay rent here and for the London studio, and with the divorce eating into my assets, I can’t turn away any job.”
“I thought you and Martha were amicable?” Axel asked, trying to change the subject when he noticed how Phoebe shuffled uncomfortably at the mention of Cillian’s funeral.
“We were, until she decided to ask for my vinyl collection.”
Axel chuckled as Claudia made them a round of iced teas.
“Anyhow, on to brighter topics. I hear you’re a virgin.” Claudia handed them their iced teas with slices of lemon.
“A tattoo virgin,” Axel clarified, loving how Phoebe blushed and stammered through an incoherent response.
Phoebe glared at him. “Right.”
“A perfect canvas! And you’re an artist yourself. I’ve seen your stuff, but I was so sorry to see what that arsehole did to your studio. I can’t imagine dealing with that shit.” Claudia picked up her tablet.
