“Great.” Her voice perked up. “See you in a bit.”
He polished off the rest of his lunch as Ivan returned and slammed the lid down in front of him.
“Thanks.” He grabbed the trashcan and pushed all of the containers, including the lid into it.
”Wha—”
“It’s disposable, like you.” He stood and brushed the crumbs from his shirt. “I have to get Linds, she needs me to go up to her office and carry something.”
Ivan burst into laughter.
“What?” He got in his best friend’s face.
“You’re going to an office on Wilshire looking like that.”
He glanced at his clothes. “I always look like this.”
Ivan raised his eyebrows.
Scratching his nails along both sides of his Mohawk, Shane assessed the jeans and vintage concert shirt, then tucked in the shirt.
“Now you look like a fool.” Carson picked up a magazine.
He pulled his shirt out of his pants and held out his hand to Carson. “Give me your jacket.”
His brother stood, took off the parka and tossed it to him.
He put on the black jacket, zipped it and raised the hood up over his head. “There.”
“Now you just look like a criminal.” Carson walked away. “I have to get ready for tonight, we have a full house. You better go.”
He snapped his fingers toward Ivan. “Come on.”
“I don’t know if I can go, I don’t have a thing to wear.”
“She may have a lot to carry.” He headed toward the door.
Ivan followed. “This should be fun.”
*~*~*
By the time he entered the huge reception area to Lindsay’s work, sweat covered Shane’s body, leaving him somewhere between sweltering and shivering. Before announcing himself, he took in the sleek office of shining grey tile, modern, black leather furniture and bland artwork. It was a far cry from Permanent. He could picture Lindsay working there. He wiped his forehead. “It’s boiling in here.”
“That’s because you’re wearing a parka.” Ivan pulled the hood down.
The receptionist cleared her throat.
She widened her eyes as if she needed to in order to take them all in. Even with the hood down, spontaneous combustion was a sure possibility. Still, he lifted his head and plastered a smile across his face.
“I’m Shane Elliott. Lindsay Stevens is expecting us.” In case she didn’t believe him, he pulled Lindsay’s business card out of his pocket and held it up like a badge of honor.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “She said someone was coming to pick her up. Let me take you to her.”
“I feel like I’m getting ready to have surgery.” Ivan elbowed him as they walked through the sterile rows of cubes and offices.
He nodded. During the trek through the corporate maze, people stared at them. The whispers weren’t quite hushed enough for him not to hear what they said. In that arena, they were novelty acts, no better than a circus sideshow. It was precisely why they didn’t mix with mainstream people. At the shop and on his side of town, they were celebrities, masters of their domain, but in this conservative setting, they couldn’t even be considered fringe cool.
The woman took them back to a closet of an office. “She’s not here, but I’m sure she’ll be right back. You can sit there.” She pointed inside, gave them another long look and left.
Ivan went to the corner and stood with his arms crossed, and Shane took a seat in the only chair not behind the desk.
“For such a fancy place, they should really turn on the air conditioning.” He pulled on the collar of the jacket and attempted to distract himself by studying Lindsay’s things.
Her postage stamp office didn’t have anything on the walls, making the whole space dull and lifeless. No doubt she couldn’t decide what to hang.
Her small desk was exceptionally neat, with piles of her famous file folders, notepads, paper-clipped documents, and a calculator. He reached over and picked up a well-chewed pencil, holding it up to study the bite marks. What on Earth was he doing there?
“I’ll have the presentation to you by Monday afternoon.”
At last he heard her voice and he leaned back in the chair to find her among the cubicles, facing away from him. A man with plain brown hair in a shirt and a tie followed her.
“Are you sure you know how to use the program? I’m an expert,” the man said.
“I’ve used the program for years.” Lindsay took a step backward. “In fact, my father knows the original developer of that software. It’s been a standard in accounting for over a decade.”
The man moved closer to her. “What about calculating the depreciation?”
Shane gritted his teeth. The douche bag sounded like he didn’t believe she could do it. In his eyes, she could do anything.
Ivan balled his fist and hit it into his palm.
“I have it covered. Mr. Sebastian asked me to do it.”
“Oh yes, he asked the new office brain trust to do it personally for him, how could I forget?” The fool pointed at her. “I hope you pass your test.”
“I have to go.” Again, she backed up.
“Are you ever going to tell me what really happened to you?” He pointed to the stitches on her brow.
When Lindsay paused too long with a comeback, Shane stepped in. “Bar fight.”
Both Lindsay and the man spun toward him.
“She was in a bar fight.” He shook his head and kept his eyes on the man. “You should see the other guy.”
The man glanced between him, Ivan and Lindsay. “Have fun starting your weekend early.”
He wiggled his fingers at the intruder, giving him the big hint. At least the man wasn’t completely stupid. He nodded and left.
With her head down, she entered the office.
He suddenly realized the spectacle he’d created in her workplace, in front of a man who could be her boss to boot. Another wave of heat crashed over him. “Lindsay.” He held out his arm, stopping her before she got behind her desk. “Hey.” He didn’t belong in the world of finesse and finances, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Before he could get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, her lips curled into a smile.
Air entered his lungs. There was no way he wanted to make her look bad at work. He opened his mouth, but Lindsay came closer.
“Are you all right?”
When he focused on her big blue eyes he breathed. “I just didn’t like the way that jerk was talking to you. Are you all right?”
“Of course.” With a furrowed brow, she reached up to touch his cheek. “You look hot.” Right before her hand connected, she stopped and turned red.
Not one to waste an opportunity, he caught her hand and finished her action for her, allowing her tiny hand to cool his face. “Thank you.” He winked but then frowned. “It is really hot in here.”
“Why are you wearing that jacket?” She reached for his collar.
Ivan laughed and plopped on the chair.
“Fashion statement.” A jolt ran through his body at her hand on the tab of the jacket’s zipper.
“You’re overheated.” Her lower lip pursed out.
“He already is.” Ivan put his hands behind his head.
“Then I probably shouldn’t wear the jacket.” He swallowed but waited for her to continue what she started.
At last she slid the zipper down.
He shimmied out of the jacket and cleared his throat.
“Better?’ She removed her hand from his cheek, took the jacket from him, folded it up and put it in her bag.
Not sure if better was actually the word to describe his feelings, he shrugged. He was less hot, temperature wise. “Okay.”
“I’ll be ready in a minute.” She went to her computer to shut it off.
“Take your time.” From the corner of his eye Shane noticed that dumb guy walk by Lindsay’s office. The jerk was starting to get on his nerves and he le
aned over her desk. “That guy didn’t do anything to you, did he?”
“He’s stuck on being last year’s rookie of the year.” She made a grunt as she heaved several books on top of her desk.
“Hey, that’s why we’re here.” He tripped over Ivan trying to reach her.
Ivan pushed him and got up. “What is all this for?”
Shane winced at the titles. “Taxes?”
“That’s for you and Permanent Tattoo. I want to brush up on some things.” She hauled up a couple of more books. “We lucked out. The IRS is only going back one year.”
“Wow.” Heat rushed through him again and he couldn’t blame it on the jacket.
“This is the most interesting one though.” She picked up the last of her things and held up a book on tattoos.
“Where did you get that?” He stared at the book. “Why did you get that?”
“I need to understand what you do.” She scanned the book. “So I can better represent you.”
Her face reddened again. Instead of finding it cute, it intrigued him. When she bent down, one of the buttons of her shirt came undone, and she displayed a lot more of her chest than he was used to seeing.
The fact she wanted to know more about his field unexpectedly aroused him, and the tiptop of her cream colored bra peeking from her grey blouse only made it worse. To calm things down, he came around the desk. “Let me show you something.” He flipped through the book to the color plates of different tattoos and pointed to one.
While she studied the photograph, he couldn’t stop himself from examining something much more interesting and from a better angle. His plan backfired. Now he spotted a bit of lace. Sexy lace. There was even a satin bow down there.
“I don’t even have to see the photo credit to know it’s your work.” Lindsay ran her fingertips over the glossy page. “You’re famous.”
The mixture of her shy demeanor and her ample chest made his mind wander, and he glanced between her face with the petite perfect features and her open shirt. Now in a tough condition, he picked up the rest of the books to hide the obvious.
“Maybe we should get going. You have a full house tonight.” Lindsay gathered her things.
Somehow, in a Wilshire office building, he found a woman who understood him. He bit the inside of his mouth and went to add a few more things to his pile when Lindsay arched back in a stretch. Not only was the top of her bra visible, but the whole bow, including a little rosette, and he almost dropped everything. Under normal conditions, he would have enjoyed the view, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Ivan gawking. He glared at him. Worse than Ivan, she’d have to walk through her office. He put down the books. “Hold up.”
Ivan shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Lindsay put her purse strap over her shoulder.
With a vow he would never do it again under any circumstance, he set his aim, closed his eyes and buttoned her up. Yes, he did have the option of simply informing her of the problem, but he figured this was his reward for being a good guy. As a bonus he also brushed her bangs off to one side.
She gasped and her blush turned crimson.
“Maybe we should get some sushi on the way back.” The idea of taking her out reentered his head.
Ivan groaned.
Lindsay wrinkled her nose. “You need to work and so do I.”
“Have you ever tried it?” He really wanted to take her for sushi. In a group, eating it was fun, in a pair it was sexy, almost as sexy as the lace and the rosette on that good girl bra.
“It’s raw.” She moved toward the door.
“Not all of it.” He reclaimed the books and followed.
“Don’t let him tell you that.” Ivan took his position on the other side of Lindsay. “It’s raw, it’s rice and it’s rolled, and he only likes it because he can be loud and obnoxious in the restaurant.”
“It’s delicious.” He wouldn’t allow Ivan to taint Lindsay’s view on sushi, or him. “I love it.”
“Just go and drink a lot of Sake, that kills the raw part, or you can have the teriyaki and tempura.” Ivan elbowed her.
“No teriyaki and tempura. That’s a strict rule.”
“You have a lot of rules.” She grinned at Ivan as they left the office.
“Name one, other besides no teriyaki and tempura.” Shane slid in between Ivan and Lindsay.
“No taxis, no rental cars, no buses.” Lindsay counted off on her fingers.
“That’s for safety.” Once more the office workers gawked at them, only this time everyone’s eyes were more on Lindsay, but she held her head up high.
“No water from the tap, no going to the mailbox without sunscreen.” She pressed the button to the elevator and continued. “No riding on Ivan’s motorcycle, no going into Orange County.”
“Don’t go there.” He adjusted his load of books to grab her arm. “And no going downtown without me.”
They got in the elevator and she faced him.
“Seriously, no downtown.” He bent down until they were nose to nose.
“What’s downtown that I can’t see without you?”
“You won’t know ‘cause it won’t happen.”
“Dude, you’re a control freak.” Ivan leaned back against the wall.
“I have my reasons, and they’re all good.”
“Is my car still going to be ready today, and am I allowed to drive it?” She rubbed her hand over his Mohawk.
Shivers overtook him. “Whatever.”
*~*~*
“Can I have a break?” Shane’s client lifted his arm.
“Carson, the tough guy needs some hydration.” He motioned for his brother and stretched as he pulled off his gloves. For over an hour he’d slumped over the man and his stomach tattoo, but his mind wasn’t on his art.
Even for a Friday the shop was swamped. The crowd seemed a bit rougher than normal. Usually he would join in the festivities, but not that night.
When they returned from her work, he got caught up in everything and never took the opportunity to ask Lindsay if she might consider a private sushi lesson with him. Then again, maybe he still wasn’t sure if he should ask her.
When he eyed his accountant with the shop’s Friday crowd, he smiled, noticing how she stood out yet fit in. Dressed casual for her, she wore a pair of well-fitting black pants, the grey button down with the disobedient button and her high heels. He worried about those shoes, she seemed to stumble a lot and he preferred when he was around to catch her.
Carson handed the man a bottle of water. “You said I could work on someone tonight.”
“Yep.” He owed it to Carson. His brother made an excellent apprentice, but he made sure to put him through all the hazing one had to go through to become a tattooist, and then some. “You can have two walk-ins and work next to me.”
“Cool.” Carson elbowed him.
“Just need a break.” After another stretch, he walked away, picked up a magazine and stood in a corner. Though he pretended to flip through the pages, he watched Lindsay. At the front with her papers, files and computer all set up, she trudged through yet more of his paperwork. All the people didn’t faze her.
He smiled as she wrinkled her nose and hooked her hair behind her ear. She must have found something that didn’t quite fit any category she set up because she went to put the paper down in several different piles then stopped. Once more she read the paper, crunched down on a pencil and did that thing with her hair. Maybe he should buy her a barrette. At last she found a home for the document.
Better than viewing his favorite TV show, he observed her for a few more minutes when two young guys walked in.
“Hey.” One of the men came to the counter.
She turned around. “Welcome to Permanent Tattoo.” Her tone was professional and classy, one she would use for her accounting firm.
“Can we get tattoos done right now.”
Lindsay turned and he slipped behind a wall, spying her between the door and the wall.
“I want a skull with a rose coming out of its eye.” The first one nodded.
Lindsay tilted her head and pointed to the second man.
“I want something mystical,” he told her.
“Very good.” Lindsay bent down and pulled out two notebooks. “Carson does exactly the kind of art you’re looking for.” She handed the book to the first man. “Ivan will be the artist for you, and you’re lucky because they’re both here tonight.”
He nodded. They would have been exactly who he recommended.
“Where’s Shane?” The man stood on his toes and tried to look in the back.
She held the black scheduling book to her chest. “Shane has a waiting list over three months long.”
Did he detect a little bit of pride in her voice? Maybe he should kiss her or something.
Both men frowned, but Lindsay hooked her finger beckoning both of them closer. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
They leaned over the counter.
“Carson is Shane’s brother and Ivan is his best friend. Also,” she cupped her hand over her mouth as if imparting confidential information, “Shane is somewhere out on the floor tonight, so you’ll get to see him.”
The newcomers nodded in unison.
“So.” Lindsay made two clipboards appear. “The two of you need to sign your lives away, give me your ID’s, and I’ll introduce you to your artists who will discuss your work.”
On a normal day he scrambled for all the paperwork she produced in an instant. He also never recalled having clipboards with pens attached.
“How much will this cost?” Mister skull and rose handed Lindsay his ID.
He took that as his cue to go out there, but she answered.
“I take it you guys are virgins.”
He clamped a hand over his mouth and his body lit up at hearing Lindsay speak that unexpected word.
“What?” Mystical man took a step back.
“Only a virgin would ask that question, but don’t let the artists hear you.” She made that clicking noise with her tongue. “I think when you decide to mark your body for life the question shouldn’t be how much it costs, it should be … do I have the best people doing it.” She put her elbows on the counter. “In your case, you’re lucky because you do.”
Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) Page 7
