Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) (19 page)

“Nope.” Shane dug in. “Seven minutes, you take over Angie, but I stay.”

They shook hands then Shane draped an arm over Lindsay’s shoulder. “Here she is.”

Lindsay sighed and turned to Ivan. “What’s going on?”

“What happened to you?” Ivan wrinkled his nose. “Did you get in a fight?”

Shane exhaled. He’d meant to ask her that too, but with the kissing and the going out and everything else, he forgot.

When she didn’t answer, Ivan lifted his chin to Shane. “What happened to her?”

 “We had a bad couple of days. I thought you had business to discuss.”

“Fine.” Ivan reached in his back pocket and handed her a thick envelope. “First, Hugh and Stubbs wanted me to give you this.”

“What’s this?” Shane leaned over.

Lindsay gasped. Inside the envelope was a stack of cash, a few receipts, and a folded piece of paper. She read the note aloud. “Dear Little Lady…”

Ivan chuckled at the nickname. “That’s cute.”

“Shane told us all about how you perform miracles. Please start work right away, take what you need as a deposit for your fee.” She held out the entire ensemble. “Shane?”

With a smile Shane made a huge production of counting the cash and reading the note again. “Is ten percent good?” He peeled off some of the bills.

 She jutted her jaw out.

“I still have five minutes.” Ivan snapped his fingers.

Shane put his arm around her. “Go on.”

Ivan rolled his eyes then dug something from his back pocket and held it up with two fingers. “Help.”

Lindsay took the tattered envelope, went to the counter and smoothed it flat. “This is from the IRS.”

“Don’t say that.” Ivan came up next to her.

“I didn’t, the envelope did.” She started to open it.

“No,” Ivan yelled.

“It’s okay, she’s a professional.” Shane needed to interject. “That makes her immune.”

“Why don’t you guys open your mail?” She glared at Ivan, opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Ivan shut his eyes. “Please fix it.”

Shane rubbed her neck when she pressed on the bridge of her nose. He knew she was craving a pencil between her teeth.

“You’re an independent contractor?” She folded the letter.

Ivan nodded.

“Didn’t you pay any tax?”

He shook his head.

“Did you think you were exempt?”

Ivan turned to Shane who generously answered for him. “He thought no one would catch him.”

She stomped her foot. “Didn’t you ever hear the death and taxes line?”

Ivan pressed his lips together.

Lindsay groaned. “Benjamin Franklin said it and I quote, ‘In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.’“

“If Benjamin Franklin said it, I guess it’s true.” Ivan pushed a hand through his hair. “Lindsay, I don’t trust anyone else.” He took her hand and put it to his heart. “Please, I’m scared.”

“You’re scared?” She laughed.

Shane peeled Ivan’s hand from his girl. “The deal didn’t include touching.”

“You were doing enough of that for the both of us.”

“I would still be doing that if you didn’t come in here and stir up all of Lindsay’s accounting hormones.”

“Shane.” Lindsay shook his arm.

“Yes, we can kick Ivan out and resume our dance.” He grinned, but the mood had died. He saw the gears in her mind spinning.

Ivan got down on his knees. “I’m begging you.”

Shane pulled her in for a hug. “Look at it this way … you have an entire cottage industry. Some people work for the stars. You’ll be the accountant for the tattoo industry.”

“We could get you a lot of customers.” Ivan added. “Tim from Tiger Tattoo has a mess over there and he seemed interested when I told him about you. Hey, you could branch out too. We have suppliers and customers.”

“Good thinking.” Shane’s wheels spun, he took his cell phone and scrolled the names.

“But I have a job.” She grimaced. “At least I think I still have a job.”

“What’s wrong with your job?”

“I had a bad week.” She turned away.

Shane put his arm around her. He’d need to ask her more about that later.

“Ahem.” Ivan cleared his throat. “I’m still in the begging position.”

Lindsay turned. “All right, but you need to do something for me.”

“Anything. What does Miss Lindsay need?” Ivan bowed.

She cupped her hand over his ear. After a whisper she sighed.  “Please.” She bit her lip.

“Can Carson do it so I can take care of Angie?”

“Do what?” Shane stepped between them.

Lindsay nodded and then leaned closer to Ivan. “I’m so embarrassed.”

 “I’m on it.” Ivan held his hand out, and Lindsay shook it as Carson knocked on the doorjamb.

“Dude, I need you to do me a favor.” Ivan announced.

“Hold up, I have to go run a fast errand.” Carson said.

“Good you can do this on the way.” Ivan put his arm around Carson. “It’s for Lindsay and it’s important.”

Shane set his eyes on Carson. “What errand are you running?” 

“I need to go get our big brother after your chick ditched him without a ride in the hills of Beverly.”

Lindsay covered her face.

“Well, that‘s exactly what I needed you to do, so my work here is done.” Ivan gave a pleased grin. “Now, I need to go finish an inner thigh tattoo.”

Shane watched Lindsay’s still covered face. “Dillon?”

She lowered her hands and faced him. “Dillon came to my office, I ended up at a work function with him and when I knew I was in the wrong place I acted selfishly, snuck out and just left your brother there.”

“Is that why you look like this?” To make his point he brushed some dirt off her sleeve.

“I snuck out … and to do it unseen, it meant crawling through a bush.”

“You crawled through a bush to get to me?” He needed to make sure he got everything straight.

“Yes.”

Without hesitation he took her chin and kissed her.

“You’re not mad?”

“Were you going to tell me?” He kissed her again this time like he wanted to, finding her tongue with his own, and pulling her in tight. He moved to kiss her again when she stopped him.

“Yes, Shane, I was going to tell you.”

“Good. Why were you embarrassed?”

“I never do things like that, leave people stranded.” She looked up into his eyes. “Shane, why are you so mad at Dillon? Why is this a Dillon-free zone?”

“I don’t really want to get into it right now.”

Chapter Fifteen

“I’ve got to get going.” Shane wiped down his workstation and tore off his gloves.

“What are the plans for tonight?” Carson came over and lent some assistance.

He turned off his light and went to the front. The shop was quiet for a Saturday, the calm before the storm, and with him out that night, it would be even more serene. His poor brother spent hours rearranging his schedule, but it was totally worth it. “I’m going to change, take her for sushi and then to that club we got tickets to.”

“Sounds like what we do every weekend but without anyone else.” Carson laughed.

“We don’t need anyone else.” He grinned and checked his wallet. “Later.”

“Hold up, let me get you the mail.” Carson raised his hand and disappeared to the back.

As his last assignment for the day, he went to the filing cabinet and unlocked the new metal cash box.

“Ready for your hot date?”

He clenched his jaw at the sound of his older brother’s voice. “Get out.”

“I’m just waiting for Carson.” Dillon shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door. “He works here, too.”

“It’s my name on the mortgage, so I say who gets in.” He tossed some cash into the box.

“I believe it was my suggestion that you buy instead of rent.”

“I believe it was my suggestion that you get out of my shop.”

“Should have been part my shop,” Dillon muttered.

Shane slammed the drawer closed. “That was your decision.”

“You didn’t protest.”

“I had no one to protest to.” He stared his brother down.

“So, how did you get her to agree to go out with you?”

Shane took out his wallet again and made a deal out counting money. “Last time I checked, she crawled through dirt to get away from you and came running to me.”

“I think she felt a little out of her league after hanging with your crowd. Seriously, what are you doing with her?”

“That’s none of your business.” He tightened his fist around his wallet to prevent from decking his mother’s firstborn. “Seriously, what’s your deal?”

“She’s special.” Dillon held his arms out. “You’re going to screw her and then really screw her, messing her up for every decent guy that comes along.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s all enamored now, the bad boy from Hollywood with the soft heart, and she’ll fall in love and sleep with you. She’ll try to change you because no girl ever really wants someone like you, they just think they do. When she can’t change you, you’ll be done and leave her.” Dillon moved closer.

A million deep tattoo needles had pierced his sensitive skin, but Dillon’s words did more damage. “I think you just described every 1980’s teen movie I ever saw.”

“Why do you think they had that plot over and over again?” Dillon shrugged. “Maybe because it’s true?”

“Well then you’re in the perfect position since after I break her heart she goes running after the good boy.” He needed to get out of there, change and pick up Lindsay.

“You’re not good enough for her.” Dillon blocked his exit. “Exactly what do you have to offer her?” He spun around the room. “A life of this and a huge heart break? Nice.”

The slacker tattoo artist and the classy accountant. What
was
he going to do with her? Take her to a questionable club? Out for drinks? Or maybe they could talk about his audit? For the first time he didn’t have a comeback. Instead, he turned to leave through the back.

“Have fun,” Dillon called.

Shane rushed through the shop, slamming right into Carson. He grabbed his brother’s collar. “I told you not to bring him here! Can’t you follow a simple instruction?”

“I told him to wait outside for me.” Carson’s eyes widened.

“Until you can do what your boss tells you, don’t come back here.” He thrust Carson away from him.

“Shane.” Carson held the mail up. “Come on, man.”

He snatched the mail out of Carson’s hand. “Decide what you’re going to do and I’ll decide if I still have an apprentice.” With that he pushed his little brother aside and headed to his car.

Overheated and shaking, he put the key in the ignition. Rock music filled the car. He threw the mail on the passenger seat and prepared to drive away when one letter caught his attention.

A simple white envelope with the IRS return address sent by registered mail taunted him. Dread like spilled ink oozed over him. Since Lindsay took over, he hadn’t seen any letters from them, let alone registered ones, and he doubted they would send something telling him the audit had been called off.

His first instinct was to throw the letter away, stuff it between the seat cushions, or bury it with the other mail of tattoo magazines and party invites and pretend it didn’t exist.

No.

Lindsay made him promise he would open his mail, so he picked up the envelope.

He took a deep breath and decided that he was actually thankful for the letter. It would give him a moment to calm down and Lindsay would be so proud of him for facing it. Nothing in those letters was as bad as he thought. Lindsay kept repeating how they were only going back a year. This was probably just a confirmation.

As fast as possible, he opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. In most cases he didn’t really understand all the IRS lingo, but with this time there was no doubt. He held his breath and read the letter twice before crumpling it in his fist and tossing it behind him.

Dillon was right. What was he thinking? What did he have to offer someone like Lindsay? According to that letter, he’d soon have less than nothing. He’d disappoint his family and Lindsay all at once.

He wouldn’t break her heart or his own. It was time to stop living a fantasy where he won the good girl. He turned out of his parking lot toward Sunset Boulevard and away from his apartment.

*~*~*

Shane’s knock at the door to pick her up for their date came exactly four hours and twelve minutes late.

Rather than answering the door, Lindsey continued to stare into the kitchen sink. After spending the last several hours pacing her spacious seven hundred and fifty square foot apartment, her feet throbbed so bad, and she couldn’t make it to the door. At least not for Shane Elliott.

“Lindsay!” Shane pounded on the door.

She glanced at the wall clock. Technically, he didn’t even bother showing up on the original day of their date.

What really amazed her was how much one could get done when they waited four hours and twelve minutes. Thus far she cleaned everything and anything she set her eyes on, including her bathroom, in the low cut black dress Emily picked for her. She changed her sheets, and packed for her business trip. Three days with Rick and Mr. Sebastian sounded like a vacation and she wished she could leave immediately.

“Please let me in!” Shane hit the door even harder.

She shut her eyes, refusing to allow one more tear to fall. The black makeup Emily applied had been wiped away on a mound of tissues. “Lindsay, I’m not going to leave until I see you.”

Above anything, she vowed to stay true to the decision she made around ten o’clock. She might want Shane Elliott and she might be weak when it came to him, but she refused to be one of the discarded envelopes under his couch cushions.

She put her hands over her ears to drown out the sound of Shane at the door. Angrier with herself than Shane, she hit her cabinet door and heard a crack.

The fact he didn’t show until so late spoke all the volumes she needed. The numbers were there, they never lied, she’d chosen to extend her credit too far.

“Lindsay.” Shane screamed. “I’m breaking the door down!”