Beauty Claimed

by Allyson Lindt

  Mathew clapped. “Sounds great. Tell us what we need to know, boss.”

  “We were thinking we’d do a brief introduction. Show the two of you to the viewers, get some reactions. Show off the artwork.” Nathan had roughly blocked out most of the show. “But because it’s a live stream, we want to use a single camera, and it’s the one in the tattoo room, so if Jeremy needs to stay with Ben...”

  Mathew pursed his lips. “How long are you thinking for the intro?”

  “Two or three minutes.”

  Mathew looked at Ben, then back at Tara and Nathan. “Do you trust this guy?”

  “Absolutely.” Tara didn’t hesitate.

  Mathew turned to Nick. “We’ll film with the door open for the first segment. Do you mind keeping an eye on him for a couple of minutes?”

  “Not a problem,” Nick said.

  Mathew crouched in front of Ben. “Stay here, and don’t give the man too much shit, and Jeremy will be out soon.”

  “Can I play Angry Birds?” Ben asked.

  Mathew pulled his phone from his back pocket and handed it over. “Only until Jeremy comes back.”

  TARA LISTENED TO THE banter between Nathan and Mathew as she worked. She didn’t do much talking, since she was bent over the tattoo, but hearing the easy conversation helped calm her electrified nerves. She wasn’t sure what had her on edge, but she felt like she was waiting for something big to drop.

  Nathan kept the conversation generic and steered away from any personal topics. He was as gifted at that as he was at the opposite. He asked about Mathew’s inspiration for the art. About the wilting demon that was already on his back. Pretty much anything ink related.

  Tara didn’t miss the hints of flirting. Nothing overt, just the occasional compliment or tease. She knew Nathan well enough to see he was holding back. He’d all but drooled when the duo walked into the shop.

  She could agree, the band mates were attractive, but they weren’t Nick.

  The thought caught her off-guard. Obviously she was attracted to him—they wouldn’t have hooked up twice otherwise. But it didn’t go beyond that.

  However, she didn’t mind that every time he visited, he ended up staying a little longer. How many days could they keep him this time?

  Keep him. She didn’t mean that to sound so possessive. When he went back to his hotel at the end of the day, when he went home, she was going to miss him.

  It wasn’t as though she was in love. Hell, this was infatuation at best. She wouldn’t mind seeing where things went, and it had been a long time since she had that thought about anyone. Since Gina, but this ran deeper. This was similar to the desire she had to keep Nathan in her life.

  Not that this was anywhere near that kind of bond.

  Still, she’d rather pursue things with Nick than deny a possibility existed.

  A huge crash—shattering glass—jarred her from her thoughts. She had a steady hand, so she didn’t jerk the needle, but Mathew sat up with a start. Fortunately, she pulled back before any harm could be done to his skin.

  “I need to check on Ben.” Mathew stumbled to his feet

  Tara grabbed his arm. “You can’t go out there until I clean you up. Jeremy and Nick are with him, and Nathan will go check.”

  A series of loud pops filled the room, like firecrackers but inside. Tara’s heart jumped into her throat. The fuck?

  “Cut filming,” Tara ordered. She was already dabbing Mathew’s shoulder blade, clearing away any excess fluids, and prepping it to be covered.

  Nathan frowned. “The live stream—”

  “I don’t fucking care about the competition right now. Anyone who has an issue with that can take it up with me.”

  Nathan shut off the camera and left the room to investigate.

  Tara covered Mathew’s half-finished tattoo with plastic. “We’re not finishing this today. I have a feeling. We’ll get it done, though.”

  “Yeah. Whatever. Am I set?”

  She nodded, and he sprinted from the room.

  She stashed her needle, and followed.

  Nick had pulled Jeremy and Ben into the hallway, to hide behind the stairs. The instant Ben saw Mathew, he rushed to his father’s arms.

  “Everyone’s all right,” Nick said.

  She was impressed he kept his voice steady. Her heart was hammering so hard, she doubted that would be an option, and she didn’t even know what had happened.

  “Are you good?” She wasn’t sure who she was asking.

  Mathew nodded.

  “We’ll be right back, then.” She moved into the front of the shop to find Nathan. There was a huge rock in the middle of the floor, and shattered sheets of glass sat under the window. A sleeve of spent firecrackers were a few feet away.

  Nathan turned to her, his brow furrowed. He held out his arms.

  She collapsed into his embrace, with a half-sigh, half-sob. “I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”

  “Me too.” He murmured against her hair.

  She didn’t understand why it had happened, but now wasn’t the right time to freak out. She composed herself. “Make sure everyone else is okay and I’ll call the police.”

  Nathan nodded, gave her a quick kiss, and headed back to the group.

  Her hands were shaking as she placed her call, but she managed to hold her half of an intelligent conversation. When she hung up, she saw there was a message waiting from Chloe.

  Because of course there was. Tara listened to the breathless recording. “Saw the stream. Worried about you. Call me back as soon as it’s safe.”

  A twisted sense of relief trickled through Tara. If this was what she’d been anticipating, it could have been so much worse. She composed herself, and joined the others.

  “I have a message from Chloe,” Jeremy said.

  Tara nodded. “Same.”

  Nick gestured to the stairs. “If you’re okay with it, I can take Ben upstairs where it’s safer, and you all can call Chloe back while we wait for the police.”

  “I’d rather join you.” Mathew hadn’t let go of Ben. Tara didn’t blame him. “Jeremy can speak for me.”

  So many questions raced through Tara’s thoughts. Who did this? Why? Was it related to the competition? Plowing forward from one must do to the next was the only thing keeping her from sinking into the pit of worry that had started in her gut.

  She, Nathan, and Jeremy moved back to the front desk. She hated being so close to the broken window, with passersby staring in through the gaping hole in the front of the shop. She wanted to board it up. Scream at them to stop staring. Do something.

  Instead she put the office phone on speaker and dialed Chloe.

  Greetings were terse, and Chloe moved quickly to, “Is everyone all right?”

  “Shaken, but uninjured.” Nathan’s laugh was strained.

  Tara was grateful he was picking up the pleasant talk. Her instinct was to ask what the fuck do you think?

  “What happened?” Chloe asked.

  Between the three of them, they gave her a brief summary of the vandalism.

  “I swear to God, this competition is going to give me a heart attack before I’m forty. I can’t imagine what you’re all feeling.” The stress in Chloe’s voice matched what thrummed through Tara.

  “We’re a bad luck curse. You keep pairing us with high profile people.” Jeremy may have meant it as a joke.

  All Tara heard was the hint of accusation. “Everyone in the competition is high-profile.” She couldn’t hide the edge slicing inside.

  Jeremy clenched his fist. “I realize that.”

  Tara wasn’t going to let her mood push them into an unfriendly situation. This wasn’t Jeremy’s fault. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It didn’t help. “Are you going to ask us to go back on the air?”

  “No,” Chloe said. “Clean up there, and we’ll make other arrangements for both channels. I’ll get back to you with details.”

  “Thank you.” Nathan managed to sound grateful. He disc
onnected.

  Tara sank into the motions of getting things done. It was safer than listening to her thoughts. They spoke with the police, then sent Jeremy, Mathew, and Ben on their way.

  The moment the shop was empty again, Nathan pulled Tara into an embrace. “It’s going to be all right,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure that was true. Logically, it should be, but the nagging tension that had lingered in her skull all day hadn’t evaporated.

  “I’ll head to the hardware store,” Nick offered. “Grab the supplies to board up the window, until you can get someone out here to replace things.”

  “Do you need a translator?” Tara was hesitant to make the suggestion. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to crawl up in a hole and never emerge. It was an immature response, but she couldn’t help it.

  “No. I can make do with my phone and a bit of pointing.”

  Two bright spots in the day—Nathan’s arms around her, and Nick’s willingness to help. She managed a weak smile. “Remind them to charge it to me, and thank you.”

  He left, and Nathan pointed Tara toward the reception chair. “You sit. I’ll clean up.”

  No. That was bad. That meant letting her mind wander. It already was. “How are you so calm? This is our home and our business.”

  Because he doesn’t have the same things invested in this place. Because he could pick up and leave tomorrow. Because they’re attacking me, not him.

  The resentment in the thoughts bothered her. She didn’t feel that way.

  “You’ve been pushing hard for the last several hours. I can do this.” Nathan was kind.

  He was worried about her. Why would she think otherwise? “I appreciate it, but I need to keep moving. I’ll help.”

  They were almost done when the shop phone rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Nathan said.

  Tara was grateful. Human interaction was out of her grasp right now.

  “Hello... Hang on, let me put you on speaker.” Nathan pressed the correct button on the phone, and put the handset down. “Okay, Chloe, we’re both listening.”

  Tara needed this to be good news. Please?

  “So... we’ve been talking in the office, and to legal, and to our community managers...” The way Chloe dragged the words out, Tara didn’t expect to get her wish. “I’m sorry to say, we’re not going to reshoot your competition spot this month.”

  “That’s not fair.” Nathan’s words echoed Tara’s reaction.

  But she understood the logic, even without an explanation. “The point of a live feed is for the unpredictable to happen. Us not liking our flavor of unpredictable doesn’t change things.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “You can choose if you want to film for Jeremy Rocks at their live show tomorrow night.”

  Tara wanted to play the spite card and say fuck no, but this wasn’t their fault. She wasn’t the cameraman, anyway. She looked at Nathan.

  “We’ll be there. There’s no reason to punish them, even indirectly, for this.”

  “Thanks. I do hope you’re both all right, and that your evening gets better.” Chloe disconnected.

  Tara didn’t know which way to turn in her head. Bile rose in her throat, and pain hammered behind her eyes. Things could go in any direction when it came to voting. That was always the case, but now, even more so. Jeremy and Matthew’s fans could vote Tara and Nathan down. Their own could. This could cause an influx of support instead...

  Though, given the way things were going, with all the vitriol directed at Tara, she didn’t expect the latter. No one wanted to see the brash, bitchy, aggressive woman win. She was obnoxious. Annoying. All those things women were called when they didn’t wait their turn at the back of the room.

  She hated the bitter thoughts. It had been a long time since she was sucked into a spiral like this. Recognizing it didn’t make it any easier for her to ignore the old insecurities asking why can’t you be a good, compliant socialite, like the other girls?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NICK RETURNED WITH the supplies. He, Nathan, and Tara made quick work of securing plywood over the broken window.

  Nathan would bet that his stress wasn’t as high as Tara’s, but his tension hadn’t evaporated from the vandalism. Most of his concern was for her. Each time she fidgeted, and with each jerk when there was a loud noise, he wanted to wrap her up tight, and hold her until her worries lessened.

  They finished up their mini-construction project. Nathan knew one thing that helped cure a lot of woes. Or at least distract from them for a little while. “What do you want for dinner?”

  Tara looked between him and Nick. “Me or him?”

  The question made Nathan pause, not because he didn’t know the answer, but he hadn’t considered Nick might not stick around. “Either of you. Both. I assume Nick is staying. You really should after everything you’ve done today.”

  Nick seemed to be getting comfortable hanging around more and more. Was that a bad thing?

  Nathan couldn’t say for sure, but he’d probably be okay with it. The only concern he had, when he thought about the situation, was that Nick wasn’t staying. His home was on the other side of the globe.

  All of that was far more pleasant to linger on than wondering who had smashed their shop window and why.

  “I’d love to stay, and whatever you make is fantastic. Hell, I’m good with cold cuts.” Nick was leaned against the brick of the far shop wall. They’d pushed all of the furniture out of the way to clean up and keep the dust off of it.

  It would wait until tomorrow to straighten. It had been a long day. “I’ll see what we have in the fridge.” Nathan tangled his fingers with Tara’s and squeezed her hand.

  Her smile was thin-lipped, but he didn’t think it was directed at him. “I’m pretty sure we have some of that ham still from Giuseppe’s butcher shop. I’ll help you put a spread out,” she said.

  “Sounds good.” Nathan was too emotionally drained to grasp the obvious innuendo.

  A short while later, the three of them were seated around the table in the breakfast nook. There wasn’t much conversation beyond Nick complimenting the meal and Tara asking who wanted more wine.

  She was on her third glass. Unusual for her, especially before she finished eating.

  Nathan ached to make her smile, even just a little. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll make it through voting, we’ll get the window replaced, and we’ll be okay.”

  “But what if we don’t? What if we aren’t?” The edge that had lined her voice all day was still distinct.

  “Then you deal with it.” Nick’s reply was abrupt, despite his kind tone. “You kick ass at what you do, but if you don’t survive voting, you’ll spin it.”

  “Is that what Parker did?” Nathan rested his butt against the counter in front of the sink and crossed his arms. Being realistic was fine, but sometimes a person needed to sink into comfort for a little while. If Nick wasn’t going to allow that, Nathan would nudge him in the right direction.

  Nick plucked an olive from his plate, and popped it in his mouth, delaying his reply. “Parker was miserable in the competition and he walked away. Unless you hate what you’re doing, it’s not the same. But, yes, he took the expanded fanbase and what he’d learned, and he made his show bigger. The two of you ooze raw talent. The world knows your name regardless of whether you win or not. It would be a nice feather in your cap, but if this is what sinks you, you can walk away know it wasn’t anything you did.”

  “Unless it was.” Tara set her wine glass down and pushed it away. She rested her chin in her hand and looked at Nick. “I’ve never had problems with vandalism before. That these two incidents happened right after my ex’s name—and mine—went viral again, points toward it being my fault.” She winced.

  Nathan mentally scrubbed his face. That explained the extra weight she carried. “It’s not your fault.”

  Nick rested a hand on her forearm. “I agree. You didn’t go onto that website, either
to search for a stud or to hack millions of people’s information. Whoever painted the graffiti, whoever threw the rock, it’s their fault. And Marco’s. And possibly the hacker’s.”

  “If I ever find that guy...” Tara’s laugh was lighter. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s out there, and you’re right, we’ll deal with it.”

  Nathan’s gut twisted. He still needed to tell her. It wasn’t something he wanted to do while Nick was around, and he’d managed to justify not saying anything, because the news had evaporated for a few weeks. He had to come clean about his involvement. Soon.

  “We should have a sleepover,” Tara said abruptly. “Like in the movies.”

  Which meant Nick would be here longer. That was both a relief and an issue for Nathan if he was going to clear things up with Tara. Her smile at the decision made it impossible to consider saying no. “Like braiding each other’s hair? Putting make-up on? Because Nick will rock a well-done smoky eye, but neither of us has long enough hair to braid.”

  Nick laughed. “Like in the movies? You know that’s not how sleepovers actually work, don’t you?”

  “No. That wasn’t a thing for me growing up.” Tara shook her head. “And if you destroy my delusion...”

  “I’m just saying, there’s a lot more pizza, popcorn, and bad movies involved than you’re taking into consideration. And staying up late. And being really loud. At least, that’s what I gathered from hiding in my room when Fiona had them.”

  Of course Nick’s perfect family and perfect sister had perfect sleepovers. Nathan expected bitterness, but he was happy Nick had enjoyed that life. “Sleepover it is. We don’t have pizza or candy, but I can make popcorn.”

  “Isn’t there also some sort of rule about having to wear cute pajamas or lingerie or something?” Tara asked.

  Nick chuckled. “Pretty sure the first one is a Hollywood myth, and the second is from movies too. Just a different kind.”

  Tara’s exaggerated pout was enticing. “So we won’t have large numbers of women in lacy things having pillow fights around us?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Nick never missed a beat. “We’d only be watching you.”