Temporary (Indelibly Marked #2) (10 page)

“Yes, I’m going to start.” Once she did the concealer and
foundation she prayed something would come to her.

Rather than custom blending her color she chose one closest
to the ogre’s skin tone, since she didn’t have green.

“You know, that shop isn’t all that. One day it won’t be the
media darling anymore and then where will you all be?”

The lawsuit? People like Sissy, the person suing them, and
Billy, all wanted to ruin what Shane had built. Emily froze. What Sissy
said—those were fighting words. Impaling the woman on an eyeliner pencil would
only be the beginning. The many times she’d begged Ivan and her brothers not to
act like delinquents flashed in front of her, but if they were there, she would
have let them loose to do their worst.

“Are we ever going to start?”

Sissy wanted her to react, pleaded for it. Damn it, if she
had to fight every nerve cell her in body, she wouldn’t give the woman an inch.
She took a breath and dipped a clean brush in the makeup, once again stopping
and gazing down into the creamy thick liquid.

Worse than being a delinquent or a thug, was being a
failure. Emily Elliott didn’t compromise. When her brothers did tattoos they
never settled for good enough. She turned back to her case and added a little
drop she knew would capture the undertone in the model’s skin. Once more she
faced her opponent.

“You all think you’re creating art when you’re just creating
more deadbeats.” Sissy stared her down.

The heat blazed into a full on fire, one that would only be
extinguished by taking hold of the woman’s ponytail and slamming her head into
the mirror. “I’ll show you deadbeat.”

“Hold on!” Mark charged out toward them with an older woman
hurrying behind him.

She gripped the brush tight enough to feel the wood crack.
Before she ever got the job, she’d lost it. A makeup artist who couldn’t get
along with the models was worthless. Her only saving grace was she didn’t
mention the audition to anyone. There would be no looks of pity and they
wouldn’t remind her that she always had a job with them. At that moment, Emily
longed for the comfort of Permanent.

“Congratulations, you have the job.” He put his arm around
her.

She’d primed herself to walk away, hold her head high, and
simply leave without incident. The reason she begged the men to be good, take
the high road, was to prevent a confrontation that would have everyone think
the worst. Yet, she did the exact opposite. “I thank you for the opportunity.”

“Uh…Mark, I haven’t got my makeup done yet.” Sissy stood and
fluffed her dress.

“You need to go wipe the dour expression off your face. It’s
going to create premature wrinkles.” He patted her head. “Emily will do your
makeup at the show as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Emily glanced between Sissy and Mark. Wait, she got the job?
She got the job. How?

“Olga, go help the women out of my clothes.”

The other two models stood, waving to her as they exited.

Sissy stared her down. “Tell your brother I said hello.”

Shane would have a quick, sarcastic comeback. Carson would
lift his phone in front of his face and walk away. Ivan would beat the crap out
of the woman. “He says you’re not his type.” Fine, she chose the girl’s
double-sided remark.

Sissy opened her mouth.

Mark snapped his fingers. “Go, and don’t crush my tulle.”

The older lady corralled her away, and with a last look
back, Sissy finally left.

“You handled her perfectly. “

“I got the job?” She needed to hear the words again.

He let out a deep laugh. “Of course, your makeup was ideal,
you were totally a pro and I love the way you stood up for yourself. I just
need to know one thing.”

She went to the chair once occupied by the redhead and sat
and nodded, waiting for his question.

“What would you have done for that bitchy bride’s makeup?”
Mark knelt in front of her. “Tell me.”

At the end of the day she got the job. Her first success,
and at last the answer came to her. “I would have done traditional bridal
makeup to contrast with the deconstructed look of the dress.”

“I’ll send you over a contract and pictures of the outfits.
The show is in a couple of weeks.” He used her knee as leverage to stand.
“Excellent work. Just so you know, I didn’t plan on Sissy’s attitude as part of
your test, but you are one tough cookie. I’ll call you later to discuss all the
details.”

Yes, she knew it was a test, but it was strange to receive
confirmation. Yet it did spark an idea.

Mark walked away and as if on automatic, she slid her phone
out of her pocket. No calls or texts from Shane, Lindsay or James, no word on
the mediation, but six texts from Ivan.

Where are you?

Where are you?

Are you coming here?

I’m going to kill Billy.

Emily! Permanent needs you.

Please call me. I need you at the shop.

Though she should be irritated at all the intrusion, the texts
calmed her. She thought she could rid her mind of Ivan and the shop, but they
were a permanent part of her.

She typed a response.
I’m on my way to the shop and I
have an idea.
If Mark tested her, maybe they needed to test Billy.

Until the lawsuit and the baby were behind them, she would
worry. Until the day she died, she would deal with people like Sissy. Until she
figured out what she and Ivan were doing, she would want him to text her six
times. However, she did get the job, but she only hoped she could pull
everything off.

Until then she couldn’t tell anyone, or maybe she would tell
the one brother who thought she was an amateur.

Chapter
Nine

“Show me how the process works,” James said as he sat down
at Billy’s station. “Take me through every step. It will help with the case.”

Ivan kept his distance. Emily’s idea of testing Billy seemed
sound, but somehow James got involved. He wasn’t sure what her feelings were
toward their attorney, but she seemed to think he’d be the perfect test
subject. Of course, the lawman was more than happy to oblige.

“After you pick a design, we draw the artwork and make a
stencil.” Billy held up a stencil of a woman in a mask with half her face an
exposed skull.

“That’s really awesome.” Emily carefully took the stencil.
She sat close enough to James for their thighs to touch.

Ivan tapped his foot and stopped admiring the art. He’d
observed Billy working on it the other day when Billy’s client handed him
several magazine clippings and pictures to work with. Billy didn’t suck at
making it a coherent piece.

“Let’s see what it would look like on James!” Emily turned
James’ forearm over and positioned the stencil on his inner arm. “Do you have
an extra?”

Billy nodded. “I had to make another one when the customer
wanted a rose added.”

Without a word Ivan leaned back against the corner.

Billy turned, put on a pair of gloves and spun back toward
him with a razor and the bottle of green soap in his hands. “If we were really
doing the tattoo, I would have already had you sign consents and such.”

Damn, if Billy hadn’t said the magic words.

Emily held the art as Billy wiped the area down and lifted
the razor.

“Wait.” James curled his arm up.

“It’s just a stencil, it will come right off. You said you wanted
to know how it worked.” Emily elbowed him. “Chicken.”

Ivan covered his mouth at how she mimicked both him and
Shane. Of course, he would have added the actual chicken cackle.

“All right, I always wondered what it would be like to have
a tattoo.” James lowered his arm. “Stencil me.”

Billy shaved the area and sprayed his green soap solution
over the spot where the stencil would be applied.

“Green soap?” James turned to Emily. “What’s that for?”

“It makes the stencil stick better.” She patted his shoulder.

“Why is it green?”

“Why is the sky blue?” Billy slammed the bottle back on the
counter.

Okay. Ivan tilted his head. If James were a normal customer
he would have shut him up the same way.

“Put it this way.” Emily hovered the stencil above James’
arm in the direction she wanted it.

Ivan crossed his arms. If it were anyone but Emily, he would
take the person down for touching his stencil.

Billy pursed his lips and glared at her.

“Sorry.” She gave him a gorgeous grin along with the art.

He tensed at the look on Billy’s face, but Emily deserved
it.

Billy placed the stencil on James’ forearm taking care to
press it down, and with a small bit of flourish peeled the paper away.

Emily clapped and Billy sat back.

“Wow.” James lifted his arm. With wide eyes he stared at the
image. “That’s incredible.”

“That’s perfect for you.” Emily wrapped her arm around him
and admired it. “It’s all beautiful and perfect on the outside, but inside it
wants to be a bad boy.”

James twisted and turned his arm, assessing it from every
angle. “Really?”

The bell on the door sounded off a chime, but with Tamsin at
the front Ivan didn’t bother glancing back, choosing to show James a different
type of tattoo etiquette and pound him for honing in on his…his…well, his
Emily. He straightened up.

“Where is everyone?”

Ivan turned with enough time to watch his best friend charge
into the back, Mohawk and all. Ivan pushed away from the wall and headed toward
him. They shook hands, but just as he was about to exhale at having Shane back,
he froze. James, the attorney, was mere inches away. The attorney for the
lawsuit they’d hid from the owner. James had never met Shane.

“Shane!” He yelled his name much louder than necessary.

“Is the baby okay?” Emily screeched. Like the day in the
valley, the color left her face. “Lindsay okay?”

Shane bee-lined right for to her. “Everything is golden.” He
gave his sister a hug.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut to not make any sudden moves
when Shane hit her side. Only a day ago Ivan added more to her side piece.

“We had our check up, and I even had Dr. Wilcox come by and
give a second opinion. Everyone is good, perfect even.”

Ivan glanced up at the ceiling and gave anyone or anything
up there a thumbs up.

Emily took his shoulder and stared right in his face. “Promise?”

“I swear.” Shane reached into his shirt pocket, gave her a
little piece of paper and handed a similar paper to Ivan. “I have something for
you.”

“Oh.” She took the offering and her lower lip pursed out.
“It’s the baby!”

“Lindsay wanted you to have it now, she said it would make
you happy and I should stop by and say hello.” Shane put his arm around her.

“I’m so happy.” She squealed, kissed the picture and pressed
it her heart.

Ivan shook his head; Emily didn’t normally get all girly.

“I can see that.” He gave her a squeeze and held another
picture out to Ivan.

Ivan took the paper and stared down at the grey and white
smudges. When he squinted, he clearly made out a baby’s face and was powerless
to stop the smile. “The first, of the second generation of the Elliott clan.”
He lifted his shirt and positioned the picture on his stomach. “I’m going to
put him or her right here.”

Shane cleared his throat.

Ivan looked up to find Shane with the picture pressed to his
chest. “Well,” Shane teased, “until now, we managed to live up to the rule of
no matching tattoos.”

“Well speaking of rules...” Shane lifted one side of his
mouth and abruptly turned to James. “What are you doing with my sister?”

For the first time since Ivan met the lawyer, the man was
speechless. Ivan ground his teeth together, waiting for the man’s answer.

“Good answer.” Shane stretched and stood in front of him,
leaning over his arm. “Did you draw this?” He lifted his chin toward Billy.

Billy nodded.

“I like it. Good detail.” Shane studied James’ arm. “The way
Carson described you, you wouldn’t get inked, but I guess Emily’s having a good
influence on you.”

“We were just getting started.” Ivan managed to get the
words out and then bit the inside of his mouth to stop the laughter.

“I see.” He pointed to Billy. “Go ahead; I’d like to watch
for a few. I miss the buzz of the machine.”

No amount of pain Ivan ever experiences would stop the agony
in his chest from compressing the need to crack up. The pressure built,
especially when he spied Emily digging her nails into James’ arm, her code to
keep quiet.

They’d wanted to test Billy’s skills, but ended up with a
pop quiz in loyalty on both James’ and Billy’s part.

Billy got the petroleum jelly, rubbed it over the stenciled
area and spent quite a bit of time checking his machine.

If Billy possessed the balls to put one needle in James, and
their attorney took it, Ivan had no idea how he’d keep up his hatred for the
two of them.

When Billy had nothing left to do but actually begin
tattooing, he held the machine out to Shane. “You know, I think you should do
it. Not everyone gets to be inked by you, and in James’ case I think it’s extra
meaningful.”

Oh holy Hell!
Billy may have just pulled off the best
passing-of-the-buck in history. Ivan pushed his back to the wall and glanced at
Emily. He swore she held back a smile. The little vixen, he had to have her.
What was he doing letting her go off with James?

“Are you sure?” Shane got a pair of gloves. “It’s your art.”

“Absolutely positive.” Without hesitation, Billy
relinquished his seat. “James is cool with it.”

“Let’s get started.” Shane took the machine and sat down.
“Make sure you stay still. We hate it when people move around too much. It just
makes the needles do more damage.”

Ivan swore the entire world had stopped, and every person on
the planet held their breath as Shane imbedded the first line of ink into the
lawyer’s arm.

Emily covered her mouth with her hand.

James looked between them; obviously hoping one of them
would come to his aid.

Ivan glanced at Billy. Rather than leaving, he moved behind
Shane and watched the theatrics.

James caught his gaze. Fine, the man wasn’t a complete
douche, especially if he was willing to be marked for life to keep a secret he
knew meant everything to Emily. Though he paled, and Emily got him juice more
than once, he never flinched and never bitched.

Over an hour later Shane wiped away the last bit of ink and
nodded his completion. “You’re all right.” He dressed the tattoo, stood, shook
James’ hand and gave his sister a peck on the cheek. “I have to get back to the
wife, but once we have our third out in the world, bring James over.”

“Let’s both do our own version of the ultrasound art.” Shane
turned to Ivan.

He gave his best friend a high five. At least the art wouldn’t
be identical.

On his way out, Shane patted Billy’s shoulder. “Let’s comp
this one.”

The bell on the door indicated they were once again free.

“James. Oh, my God.” Emily spoke first. “Why didn’t you say
anything?” Though her tone dripped concern, the twinkle in her eye told Ivan
that she ached to crack up, or at least crack a smile. He needed to talk to
her.

James stared down at his arm and up to her. “Client
confidentiality?”

She rubbed his back.

“Geez, it was a tattoo, not surgery,” Ivan mumbled then
sighed.

“I don’t know.” James shrugged. “Maybe I always wanted a
tattoo.”

They stared at each other and broke out with laughter.

He tensed, but for once Billy served a purpose by
interrupting them and holding out a clipboard with the consents.

“Sign this,” Billy growled.

“Very good.” James signed in the designated spots.

Emily put her palm on his cheek and turned him toward her.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be, depending on your answer to my next question.”
He put his hand over hers. “Remember, I just permanently marked myself for you
and your brother’s shop.”

“Are you trying to lead the witness?” She giggled.

Ivan balled his hand into a fist. He wanted to talk to Emily
and he didn’t want to wait in line.

“Yes. I am.” James laced his fingers in hers. “I want to
take you out tonight.”

She bit her lip.

Ivan stretched his fingers out. He was sure Emily’s pause
was a way for her to formulate James’ big blow off. He had his own plans for
tonight.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Hold up. Something was most definitely off. He focused on
Billy. The man did everything right, maybe even better than he would have done
in the same circumstance.

James nodded until she mimicked his actions. “Well, now the
tattoo was all worth it.”

Ivan could see that James went after what he wanted in front
of everyone, in turn giving Emily everything she wanted.

Though he wanted to yell, grab Emily, or beat the hell out
of James, or Billy, or preferably both, he didn’t have a case unless he wanted
to make a confession.

~~*~~

“I don’t like French food.” Tamsin crossed her arms and
stopped short of entering the restaurant.

“Neither does Emily.” Ivan reached around and opened the
door for her. “Neither do I.”

“Then why are we here?” She stood her ground.

He lifted his phone. “Emily tweeted that she’s here.”

“Are you two attached at the hip?”

At the moment, being attached to Emily’s hip seemed like a
plan, his only plan. “I need to talk to her.” Yes he waited until she was out
with James to decide he needed to do something, but at least he had decided.

“And talking required that you barge in on her date with
James?” Tamsin smiled and crossed her arms.

“It’s not a date. She was being nice because of the tattoo.”

“Fuddy duddy restaurant in Brentwood with valet parking and
probably some weird lady with lotion and perfume waiting for tips in the
bathroom means a date.”

He wanted to ask her what she knew about dating, but held
back. Chicks dated other chicks. With that image in his mind he smiled.

“Get that look off your face.” She slammed the door closed
and grabbed him by the collar. “Are we going for some weird movie moment where
you storm into the restaurant and rescue Emily from the rich, gorgeous guy? Is
that why you made me ride my own bike here?”

“You think he’s gorgeous?” He wouldn’t have used that word.
“What about Billy?”

“Billy needs to be on the cover of a sexy romance book.” A
blush took over her cheeks.

He groaned. No matter which side of the pond one dipped
their toes into, Billy was universally hot.

“What’s the deal with you and Emily?”

“We are very close.”

“Underwear in the storage room close?” She stood on her toes
and pulled him closer.

“Can we go in?” For sure he didn’t want Emily with the
gorgeous rich guy any longer than necessary.

“Fine.” She thrust him away from her and opened the door.

The restaurant oozed money and class. Dark muted tones and
strategic candlelight was accompanied by the soft clink of silverware, the
whispered hush of couples talking, and light classical music.

Whether Ivan admitted it or not, James had taken her on a
date and no matter how he sliced it, none of the places he ever took her
compared. No wonder she didn’t protest at his invitation. “We need to get out
of here,” he mumbled.

“May I help you?” A man in a tuxedo approached them.