The Rules of Dating

Holden came over bright and early the next morning to fix the leaky sink in my kitchen. I could’ve done it myself, but he knew how important weekends were for me—the only full days when I could spend quality time with my daughter, Saylor. Holden wasn’t just the handyman around here, though. He was now part owner of the building, along with me and two of our other good friends. As a career musician, Holden didn’t technically have a day job, so when he wasn’t touring, he handled repairs around the building. He’d grown up helping his dad, who was a contractor, so he knew how to fix pretty much anything. He’d held many odd jobs before becoming our permanent handyman.

Saylor sat next to me at the table, drawing while I drank my morning coffee and watched Holden mess around under the sink. He came up for air and looked over at the paper my daughter was sketching on.

“Did she just draw what I think she did?” he asked.

I looked over to find my three-year-old had doodled something that looked suspiciously like a penis with eyes…and tentacles.

“What is that, Saylor?” I asked.

“That’s you, Daddy,” she proclaimed.

“Sounds about right.” Holden laughed.

Saylor loved to draw, loved art in general. Even at the young age of three, it was evident. Her appreciation of art was one of the reasons I’d wanted to surprise her with a tattoo in her honor. That plan had certainly gone to hell. Which reminds me…

I turned to Holden. “Hey, what do you know about the girl who rents the tattoo shop space downstairs? Billie?”

“You haven’t met her?”

I shook my head. “Oh, I met her alright.”

“What happened?”

I gave Holden the CliffsNotes version of what I’d witnessed at the shop last night—or at least what I’d been able to decipher from the circus happening around me before I left.

“Shit. I can’t blame her for going apeshit on the guy. Pretty brilliant set-up.”

I chuckled. “I have to admit, it was—even if I got caught in the crossfire.”

“But I’m telling you…” He pointed a wrench toward me. “She’s cool as shit. You most definitely caught her at a bad time.”

“Yeah, well, she should’ve treated a customer with respect, even if she was having a bad day.”

“What was her reaction after you told her you owned the building?”

“She looked shocked, but not enough to apologize. Anyway, I bolted out of there before she had the chance to say much else.”

“I wanna go to Mommy class!” Saylor interrupted.

“Mommy class” was a Mommy and Me class I took her to once a week. I was the only adult male participant, but thankfully they welcomed us with open arms, despite the fact that there was no Mommy in the picture. Saylor was old enough to know it was odd she didn’t have a mother around, but not quite old enough to have any hang-ups about it. I knew it was only a matter of time, but for now, I was enough. “Daddy is my mommy,” she would say. I dreaded the day she started grilling me for answers about why her mother didn’t want to be a part of her life. Until then, I was thankful she never asked to know more. She accepted my generic explanations like, “Your mother is not able to be with us. She has some things she has to work on in life that we’re not meant to understand right now.”

I looked down at my phone. “We still have some time before class. We gotta get you cleaned up first. You have donut frosting all over your face. No wonder you love Uncle Holden. He’s always bringing you sugary crap.”

He shrugged. “I know she loves donuts. I can’t resist.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to bring them every time you come. I’m trying to teach her healthy habits.”

“Oh, healthy like we were?” He scoffed. “Do you not remember all those damn trips to the corner store for candy? We’re lucky we still have teeth.”

Saylor flashed a big smile, displaying her little teeth. I was already bracing for the day they started falling out. I knew I wasn’t gonna handle her growing up very well.

Holden patted my daughter’s head. “If Uncle Holden ever gets his big break, I’m gonna buy a whole donut shop and name it after you.”

I stood and carried my coffee cup to the sink. “We’ve got to start getting ready. You sticking around while we’re out?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna take me a while to fix this.”

“Alright, don’t kill yourself. It’s not a big deal if you have to come back tomorrow. It’s just a leaky faucet.”

“It’s gonna drive me nuts if I can’t figure this shit out. You know that.”

“Well, better you than me.” I laughed.

***

We were fifteen minutes late to the “Manhattan Moms of Girls” weekly meetup. Half of the heads in the room turned our direction when we walked in, but their faces were friendly. Everyone treated me like one of the girls here. Except for the fact that occasionally, the women would flirt with me. Even the married ones.

“Hey, Colby,” one of them shouted from across the room.

I smiled over at Lara Nicholson, a single mother in the bunch. She was separated from her husband, and they shared custody of their daughter, Maddie. Lara had often suggested we get our daughters together for a playdate. I got the impression it was really me she wanted to play with, given how persistent she was. I wasn’t feeling it, though. I hadn’t really been feeling much of anything lately. I went on the occasional date, but I was way more selective now that I was a father. I sure as hell didn’t want to bring a woman around my daughter unless that person turned out to be exceptional. And given that Saylor had come into this world through an accidental pregnancy, I was now paranoid of history repeating itself.

The theme for this week’s Mommy class was “spa day,” and there were various stations set up for the girls—one where they could get their hair done up in a bun like a princess, another where they could play dress up, and another where they could get their fingernails painted. It was a great opportunity for Saylor to interact with other kids outside of preschool. And I was grateful for a nice air-conditioned place to take her to socialize, considering it had been hot as balls in the city lately, so the playground sucked.

A lot of the mothers were getting their nails painted, too. My daughter took notice and announced, “Daddy, paint your nails!”

“No, honey. I don’t think that’s for me.”

“Come on over, Colby. I’ll take care of you,” said Amanda McNeeley in a suggestive voice. Amanda was another of the single ones.

Seeing no way out, I walked over and sat down. “What color should I get?” I asked my daughter.

“Pink!”

I looked over at Amanda and smiled. “Might as well go all in, right?”

Saylor picked the brightest fluorescent color, and Amanda shook the bottle. As she painted my nails, I looked over at my kid’s smiling face. She watched the process intently. There really was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. This proved it.

***

On the walk home, I noticed a mane of long, dark hair blowing in the summer breeze and coming down the sidewalk toward us. It was Billie, the angry tattoo artist, walking toward her shop from the opposite direction. Damn. Seemed I was so distracted by her miserable demeanor last night, I didn’t properly notice what a smokeshow she was. Billie was a petite little thing, short even in the sky-high heels she wore. Her black hair was a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. And she had one full-sleeve tattoo.

Her mouth curved into a smile when she spotted me. Although, I soon realized the smile wasn’t for me at all. “Who do we have here?” she asked as she stopped in front of us.

“This is my daughter, Saylor. Saylor, this is Billie, the nice lady who owns the tattoo shop.”

Billie knelt. “Your daddy actually thinks I’m a crazy person, and with good reason, but I swear I am a nice lady.” She adjusted the collar on Saylor’s dress. “How old are you?”

My daughter held up three little fingers. “Free. But almost four.”

“Three. Wow! You’re a big girl.”

“Look at my nails, Billie!”

“They’re so pretty!” Billie held out her hand. “I have blue nails, too.”

I showed off my own fingers. “And I have pink.”

Billie’s eyes widened. “Yes, you do.” She laughed. “That’s rad, Mr. Landlord.”

“Please call me Colby.”

She nodded. “Colby.”

Pretty sure she had me pegged as an uptight dickwad after last night. At least the pink nails might have earned me a coolness point in the other direction.

She stood up. “Look…I want to apologize for my rudeness. That was just a really bad night for me.”

“Yeah. I overheard it all.”

“Figured you did.”

When she looked down at the ground, my eyes briefly fell to her chest. It was hard not to look, considering she was wearing a corset, with two milky white mounds playing peekaboo—a black corset under a red-and-black plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

My daughter reached out and touched Billie’s arm, tracing the designs on her sleeve tat.

“She’s always been mesmerized by body art,” I explained. I patted Saylor’s back. “Would you like Daddy to get a tattoo someday?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off of Billie.

“I wanted to surprise her.” I winked. “But you know, that plan went to hell.”

“Thank God it did.” She snorted. “What were you thinking? I mean, maybe if her name was Rose, I would let you tattoo a rose on your body. Other than that, it’s lame. I’m not tattooing anything boring and generic on you.” Billie looked down at Saylor. “You wanna pick out a tattoo for your dad?”

Saylor jumped. “Yes!”

“You want to come into the shop for a bit?”

I placed my hand on Saylor’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Her eyes met mine. “I don’t have a client until four.”

My daughter made the decision for me when she took Billie’s hand, and they walked toward the shop together. I took the opportunity to admire my beautiful tenant’s backside, which was just as attractive as the front. She wore black leggings that had a bit of a shimmer to them and left little to the imagination. No wonder this shop always seemed busy. Goddamn.

A bell chimed as she opened the door.

“Children aren’t normally allowed in here for safety reasons,” Billie explained. “But as long as I’m not working on anyone, it’s fine.”

I scratched my chin. “Ah… I’d never thought about that. Glad I never promised Saylor she could watch me get the tattoo.”

“Yeah. Most legit shops have that rule.” She walked over to a shelf, pulled out a big black binder with laminated pages, and handed it to Saylor. “There are lots of pretty ones in here. Take a look and let me know what you like for your dad. Or I can make something new from scratch.” She smiled.

Saylor sat and placed the binder on her lap. “Butterflies!” My daughter pointed after flipping through the first few pages.

They weren’t just butterflies, but butterflies intertwined with other things I couldn’t fully make out. Not a single design was what one would consider, as Billie put it, generic.

I wrapped my arm around Saylor as she turned the pages. “Amazing, huh?”

She nodded and continued to eagerly flip through.

“Would you like a snack, Saylor?” Billie asked.

She nodded without looking up from the book.

“Do you like Goldfish?”

Saylor beamed. “Yummy! Goldfish!”

“She loves Goldfish.” I narrowed my eyes. “But why do you have Goldfish?”

Billie shrugged. “I like them, too. They’re small, easy to pop into your mouth without getting crumbs all over the shop. So sue me. You know what else I like? Juice boxes. They’re more environmentally friendly than plastic bottles.” She smiled. “You wanna juice box, too, Saylor?”

My daughter nodded. “Yes!”

“Yes, what?” I asked.

“Yes, please,” Saylor clarified.

“Wow, Goldfish and juice boxes, Billie. Remind me to bring you some Lunchables the next time I stop in,” I teased.

Billie chuckled and went to grab my daughter her snack. Once again, my eyes were glued to this sexy woman’s backside, which was taut yet round. Fucking gorgeous.

She returned with a snack-sized package of pizza-flavored Goldfish and a mini box of apple juice. She opened both items and placed them on a small table next to my daughter, who finally took a break from the book to enjoy her snack.

“That was really nice of you. Thank you,” I said.

“It’s my pleasure.” Billie took a seat on the opposite side of me.

“Listen…” I lowered my voice. “Apologies if I came off as threatening in any way last night. Throwing the landlord thing in your face like that—”

“I didn’t take it that way. I mean, you are my landlord, so…” She sighed. “Anyway, I’m the one who should be apologizing for refusing to accommodate a paying customer who’d waited patiently, landlord or not. What you experienced last night is not a normal reflection of how I do business.”

I nodded. “Don’t worry about it. You had every right to be pissed.” I paused. “If you don’t mind me asking, how the hell does something like that happen?”

“You mean besides the fact that he’s a prick?” She immediately covered her mouth and looked over at Saylor, who was oblivious. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No worries. She’s too into her snack and your book.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t see last night coming. The only consolation is that I’d only invested a few months in the relationship, which I consider a godsend.”

I nodded. “I’m glad to hear that, but what I really mean is how the heck did you orchestrate that?”

“He left his phone out, and I saw a Tinder notification pop up. That wasn’t supposed to be happening, so I had to investigate. I knew his access code, and once I realized what he was up to, I decided to set up dates with all of the women he’d been chatting with—at the same time. And you know the rest.”

“That was freaking epic.”

“Thanks.” She smiled proudly. “I thought so, too.”

“It takes a lot of strength to execute something like that when you’re hurting.”

“I think the hurt is what gave me the strength, oddly.”

I nodded. “I get that.”

Billie impressed me. Not only was she extremely talented, she was tough—with a hint of crazy. I became more curious about her by the second. I looked into her eyes for a moment, but that was cut short when she got up to fetch a napkin for Saylor.

She then returned to her spot next to me. “Do you live in the building, or are you just the new owner?”

“I live upstairs, too, yeah.”

“And you’re the only owner, or…”

“No.” I shook my head. “You know Holden, right?”

“The musician-slash-handyman? Yeah. He’s cool.”

“Yup. He’s part owner, too. Along with two of our other friends.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. So the four of you own the building together?”

“Yeah. Well, the company we formed together owns the building. One of the guys, Owen, works in commercial real estate and brokered the deal. And then there’s Brayden.”

“You guys must really trust each other to go in together like that.”

“We do. They’re the only three people I can say that about.”

“So you must have gone upstairs last night and told your wife all about the nutty tattoo shop owner, huh?”

Oh. Everyone assumes I’m married because of Saylor. “There is no wife.”

“Oh.” Billie’s lips parted. “Divorced?”

“No. Saylor’s mother was never in the picture.” My voice dwindled to barely a whisper. “She didn’t want to be.”

The color drained from her face. “I see.”

I stood and motioned for her to walk to the other side of the room with me, away from Saylor.

“The pregnancy was a…surprise to say the least,” I murmured, looking out the window. “The last thing I ever expected. The woman and I didn’t exactly know each other. But Saylor’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Billie looked over at my daughter. “She’s beautiful.”

So are you, I wanted to say. She really was, uniquely beautiful. Though she wore heavy makeup, I somehow knew she’d be even more beautiful without it.

“But it must be challenging raising her on your own,” she said.

“Thank you. And yes, I hadn’t ever held a baby before my own.”

“That’s wild.” Billie looked at me like she expected me to elaborate. But this wasn’t the time. I didn’t want Saylor to overhear.

I got lost in Billie’s eyes for a few moments. They were a deep brown, like the color of coffee beans. Then Saylor slurped on the last of her apple juice and broke me out of my trance.

“Did you choose a design?” Billie asked as we walked back over to her.

“This one!” She pointed to the most ostentatious rainbow unicorn.

Billie cracked up. “Well, I’m happy to ink that on him, if your dad’s okay with it.”

“I might have to think on that one. I always say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my daughter.” I waggled my pink fingernails. “But that crazy-looking unicorn might be the first exception.”

“Well, if you reconsider, just say the word. Or if you want anything else, I’ll do that, too.” She winked. “Unless it’s a rose.”

I nodded. “I think I need a bit more time. If last night taught me anything, it’s not to rush into such an important decision.”

“I definitely agree.” She smiled.

There wasn’t much reason for us to stay, and I didn’t want Billie to have to kick us out, so I turned and patted Saylor on the back. “Say thank you, Saylor. We have to go upstairs.”

“Thank you!” My daughter reached out and hugged Billie.

Billie closed her eyes as she received the embrace. “You are so welcome, pretty girl. Come back and visit again soon. I always have Goldfish and juice boxes.”

She walked us to the door.

Before we left, I turned around one last time. “Hey, Billie?”

“Yeah?”

“That ex of yours is an idiot.”

Her cheeks reddened. Maybe it was because of what I said. Or maybe it was because I’d just sneaked one more look at the cleavage peeking out of her corset.