House of Payne: Tag

by Stacy Gail

  The microphone made it over to another reporter. “Now that Ivy, Invictus has been revealed, what are your plans for it?”

  A corner of Tag’s mouth curled up. “It’ll stay up there, right across from that fucking company for a month, so go and take pictures of it while you can. I want to make sure every person in Chicago gets to see it, to understand what those assholes truly stand for, and no amount of damage control will ever be able to wipe that truth away. After that, according to my agent there’s a bidding war currently going on between New York’s MoMA, the Smithsonian and the Women’s History Museum. Personally, I’d like for it to go somewhere local, but I understand that while this happened here in Chicago, stupid shit like this is a worldwide problem. Wherever Ivy, Invictus lands, I just want to make sure Ivy’s okay with it.”

  “Me?” Ivy heard the word pop out of her mouth before she knew she was going to speak. “What do I have to do with it?”

  “What the hell, Ivy, you have everything to do with it.” Again not seeming to care that they were on display, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Ivy, Invictus is you. Besides, it’s like I told you—when you’re happy, I’m happy. Wherever you think it should go, that’s where it’s going to go.”

  “That addresses something I’d like to know, if I may.” The microphone was passed to Jonah Buckwald, and his soppy smile at Tag made Ivy inwardly cringe. She now knew Tag well enough to know he had no time for suck-ups. “It does seem the two of you have resolved your differences. Am I right in saying that the art world has a new version of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo when it comes to the two of you?”

  Ivy had to bite her tongue to stop from laughing at the reference to the famous married couple who were also artists. Apparently Jonah had stopped covering Chicago’s art scene for his paper and started doing the gossip column. Good to know.

  Tag, however, obviously didn’t see the need to hold back a snort. “What Ivy and I are to each other is no one’s business. We let our art speak for itself. That’s all.”

  “It just seems so star-crossed, doesn’t it?” Jonah continued, clearly deaf to Tag’s tone of finality. “Her doomed little brother borrowed her tag, an act which snagged your attention because you recognized its genius. You befriended that boy all those years ago because of that design, yet somehow never managed to meet Ivy because young Teo died so unexpectedly. Now, your latest piece, Ivy, Invictus, has again been inspired by something generated through her. So much of her shows up in your work, so clearly there’s a profound depth of attachment there. Dare I say, even love? In love with her work, of course, though if you want to expand on any other type of love…?”

  Whoa nelly, Ivy thought, while her heart began to hammer so hard she half-believed everyone in the room could hear it. What would Tag say, in a room full of people? What did she even want him to say, coerced into saying something appropriate while under the pressure of a gazillion reporters?

  Say something, Tag.

  Silence ballooned around the room, and she snuck what she hoped was a discreet peek from behind her tinted glasses to find Tag staring unblinkingly at Jonah Buckwald, as inscrutable as a stone mask.

  Say something.

  Say anything.

  Say…

  You love me.

  “Okay,” Payne said when Tag remained as impassive and silent as a frigging Easter Island head statue. “Are there any more questions?”

  Someone raised their hand, and Scout hurried over to hand them the microphone. “House Of Payne has benefitted greatly from this challenge between these artists, Tag and Ivy Gemelli. Unfortunately, the challenge is nearly over. Have you considered offering long-term contracts to either or both of these artists, so that the House continues to have access to their exclusive designs?”

  Payne lifted a brow. “We actually have a three-year contract with Tag already, so every year that he’s contracted, he’ll create a set of street-inspired graffiti-style designs. As far as Ivy is concerned, I’d do just about anything to get her into a more permanent position when it comes to her art and exclusivity for the House, but I’m well aware she’s working full-time—”

  “Clawsome Nail Salon and Spa, in Back of the Yards,” Ivy piped up, then held her head so it wouldn’t explode. “Look it up and make your appointments.”

  Payne chuckled along with the rest of the room. “Time will tell regarding Ivy, but as you all know I believe that finding exceptional artists and cultivating their talent is what sets House Of Payne apart from every other tattoo studio in the world. Both Tag and Ivy clearly are geniuses at what they do, so it’s been a tremendous honor to have them add yet another facet to what makes the House so special. Any other questions?”

  Another reporter popped up. “Ivy, how did you feel when you saw Ivy, Invictus?”

  Despite the disappointment that Tag hadn’t spewed declarations of undying love for her, Ivy still couldn’t help but smile at the question. “Bar none, watching the reveal of Ivy, Invictus was the most magical moment of my life. That’s what Tag brings to the world with his art—magic. That he chose to use that magic on something that had to do with me… It moved me so much I cried, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. This amazing man thought of me, of how to defend me, and he used his incredible talent and creativity to do it. I’m so grateful to be in his life, and that feeling grows with each passing day. Last night was just the cherry on top.”

  Still silent, Tag reached for her hand and brought it to his lips for a lingering kiss.

  “Which also explains why she’s hung-over today,” Payne drawled, causing another rumble of laughter in the room. “Any other questions? All right, if that’s it, we’ll have our artists mingle with you, while you all enjoy the coffee and pastries we’ve arranged for you, located at the far end of the gallery. And remember, we’ll all meet back here one week from now for the final reveal.”

  “One more.” Tag brought his mouth close to her ear to make sure no one else could hear him. “One more goddamn dog-and-pony show to get through. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know if I can make it. This shit seems to get worse every fucking time we do this.”

  Because he’d been asked to express how he felt about her, or because he basically wasn’t a people-person at heart? To her shock and dismay, she was afraid to ask, when she’d never been afraid to speak her mind. But now she was, and the reason for that was simple.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “I’ll bet you’re missing your former anonymity right about now.” Trying to smile and hoping it didn’t look as stiff as it felt, she rose from her chair. “Let’s get this over with so we can get on with the rest of our lives.”

  “I like the sound of that,” he muttered and dragged himself to his feet.

  The moment she stepped off the dais, she was all but pounced on by Jonah Buckwald, this time wearing a Matisse tie, The Open Window, and a smile that was about as genuine as a three-dollar bill.

  Geez.

  Just when she thought the lowlights of the day were done.

  “Ivy, darling.” To her amazement he grabbed her by the elbows to bring her in for a two-cheek air kiss. “Every week your designs stun and amaze. Do you know, Payne’s wife specializes in 3D artwork, yet I don’t think anything she’s come up with looks as realistic as your cobra. Juste incroyable.”

  “Uh, if that means just incredible, I’m very flattered.” Ivy kept the smile firmly in place and hoped she didn’t look too much like a hostage wanting to escape. “Especially since I know you have excellent taste when it comes to art. Your tie, The Open Window is one of my favorites of Henri Matisse.”

  “Would you believe I already knew that?”

  Her jaw dropped. “You…do?”

  He made a sound of smug amusement. “Ever since your spectacular debut here at House Of Payne, I’ve done my homework on you, young miss. I know quite a few people at Chicago Art and Technical Education high school, you know. Many of your CATE teachers remember you from y
our old high school days, and not one of them is surprised you’re making a huge splash now. You have so many fans in your corner, cheering you on and eagerly telling anyone who will listen to them that they were partly responsible for molding you into the artist you are now.”

  “Cheering me on, and sharing little tidbits about me, like who my favorite artists are.” That wasn’t creepy at all, she thought, trying not to appear alarmed. “What else did you find out about me?”

  “Enough to fill an entire article. Especially,” he added, lowering his voice as if he wanted to share state secrets, “about your senior year when your little brother and another family member were murdered. The people I spoke with thought it was an uncle or cousin, but I couldn’t nail that down for a certainty. Who was it, exactly?”

  “My uncle, Darius Sharaf. He was…” So many wonderful adjectives came to mind that she couldn’t find just one. “He was my hero.”

  “Tragic.” He shook his head, tut-tutting. “And they were both murdered, at the same time, by the same people?”

  She cleared her throat because it wanted to close up. “I’m sorry, I really don’t talk about this. Even after all these years, it still hurts too much.”

  “Of course, of course. I just wanted you to know that everyone I’ve spoken to at your old school were so in awe of how you handled that tragedy. You didn’t miss a day of school and your grades never wavered, according to what I was told. How trying that must have been.”

  Ivy looked away. What part of not talking did he not grasp? “The last of my family were killed, but I wasn’t. I had to keep going, and not just because the scholarship I’d won demanded it. Life wasn’t going to wait for me to pull myself together, so I just did what I had to do.”

  He made a sound of sympathy. “I can’t imagine what that was like, having your family wiped out all at once. Someone mentioned gang activity. Was it one of those horrible street gangs in Back of the Yards at that time? The Yard Kings, perhaps?”

  “No one knows, and I just can’t do this anymore, Mr. Buckwald. If you’ll excuse me.” Blinking away tears hidden behind her tinted glasses, she all but ran out of the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ivy had hoped her run-in with Jonah Buckwald wasn’t going to set the tone for the rest of her day, but the moment she walked into Clawsome, she knew she was doomed to disappointment. As the door closed behind her, she smiled and nodded at Yun Hee at the counter, who gave her a thousand-yard stare before pointedly turning away to where her sister, Mama Ji, was coming out of the back with a stack of hand towels.

  Yikes.

  Was she late?

  She shot a surreptitious glance at her watch.

  Nope. She was right on time.

  A minute early, in fact.

  “Good morning, everyone.” Determined to plow through whatever was wrong, Ivy took her tinted glasses off and headed to her station. Her head still ached, but at this point it had little to do with a hangover. “Yun Hee, Mama Ji, Minnie. How is everyone today?’

  An ominous silence billowed out like a poisonous cloud. That clinched it. She was definitely not imagining the hostility aimed her way.

  Great. Just fucking great.

  “Um.” Minnie cleared her throat as Ivy sat at her station and tucked her purse away. “Good morning, Ivy.”

  “Hey.” Absurdly relieved her best friend wasn’t going to pretend that she was invisible, Ivy gave Minnie a tight smile. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

  Minnie’s eyes widened in something that looked oddly like guilt. “Um…”

  “Something going on.” The way that Mama Ji quietly repeated her words was, in Ivy’s opinion, more ominous than a shout. “You sit there and have the nerve to ask if something’s going on. How could you, Ivy? That’s all I want to know. How could you?”

  Holy freaking crap. “How could I what?”

  “She did it because she’s not family.” To Ivy’s shock and dismay, Yun Hee stuck that knife squarely in her heart while looking at her with condemning eyes. “You see what happens, Ji? You take her in, and first chance she gets she betrays you. She’s not real family.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are, saying that to me?” Hurt coursed through Ivy so hard the only way to deal with it was to either burst into tears or ignite it into fury. Since crying had never been her thing, she found herself on her feet without remembering the act of surging out of her chair. “You glare pure death at me from the moment I walk through the door, and now you attack me because I’m not fucking family?”

  “Lower your voice.” Ji, barely five feet tall, let out a bellow so vast it put even Ivy’s minor shrieks to shame. “This is a place of business, not the streets.”

  “I’m fine with taking this shit outside to show Yun Hee exactly how I feel about being accused of betraying you,” Ivy shot back, still loudly upset and struggling with tears she told herself were nothing but liquid rage. “I don’t even know what the hell that’s all about. I would never betray you or the Daos. I don’t even know how that would be possible.”

  “Um.” Looking genuinely terrified over all the screaming, Minnie inched her hand up into the air. “It’s my fault, Ivy. I, uh, I told them about… about yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” Ivy snapped her head around to her friend. “What about yesterday?”

  “I told them about how Payne offered you a job while he was doing my ink. Things kind of blew up from there.”

  “Oh great, Minh,” Ivy muttered, face-palming hard to keep from going for her friend’s throat. Because, seriously, what the hell had she been thinking? “Well done, thanks s lot.”

  “You understand now? If you walk away from Clawsome after all my sister has done for you, that is betrayal,” Yun Hee declared, her jaw thrust out like she was daring the damn world to take a punch. “For years you lived like a parasite under her roof—eating her food, sleeping in a bed she provided for you, and you give nothing in return—”

  “Nothing?” Ivy’s temper rose so fast from its already-dangerous level, she half-feared her head would explode. “Okay. That’s. Fucking. It.”

  Minnie gulped. “Ivy—”

  “Look around you, Yun Hee,” Ivy hissed ominously, ignoring her. “See all those plaques and awards on the walls? All those newspaper clippings? You call those nothing?”

  Yun Hee’s eyes skittered around the dozens of awards and accolades Ivy had earned for the salon over the years. “If you’re wanting me to see how important you are—”

  “I don’t give two shits how you see me.” Ivy knocked her adjustable lamp out of her way as she stalked toward the front, and she didn’t glance away from Yun Hee as the clip-on lamp flew off the table to smash against the wall. “I already know how you see me—the parasite. I have a question about that, though. While you’ve spent years calling me ungrateful, did you work your ass off to bring all those awards and media attention to Clawsome? Did you pay all the entrance fees and travel expenses that had to be coughed up so I could go to all those nail art competitions—competitions I chose to enter under the name of Clawsome, rather my own name? Did you, just this morning, remind a roomful of reporters that the best nail salon in all of Chicago is found in Back of the Yards? Did you?”

  She heard Minnie move behind her. “Ivy, please stop.”

  “I will not stop, because I am the one who did all those things for Clawsome. Not one penny came from you, Yun Hee, or your family. Every last fucking cent of it came out of my pocket, but that’s okay. I was happy to make that financial sacrifice, because I knew your family would benefit from it as long as I performed well. So that’s what I’ve been doing all this time—putting pressure on myself to perform well. Perform for you. Like a goddamn circus animal.”

  Ji slapped the hand towels down on the front counter. “No one ever asked you to do that, Ivy.”

  “Yet here we are, talking about how much I owe you,” Ivy raged, shaking from head to toe and pushing the churning in her stomac
h down through sheer force of will. “There was always a sense—whether it came from Yun Hee commenting on how I was ungrateful, or from me never wanting to be a burden to you—that I felt compelled to pay you back. So I tried. Jesus, how I’ve tried. But you know what? I’m done trying, because I’m finally listening to Yun Hee.”

  Minnie’s gasp was filled with horror. “Ivy, don’t.”

  “She told me that I’m not family, right? Okay, fine. Since no one bothered to contradict her, and since there’s nothing I can do after all these years to shake the label of being ungrateful, I guess I have no choice but to agree with her. You’re not my family. I am ungrateful. That means I don’t owe anyone here a thing. Thank you, Yun Hee, for finally clearing that air for me.” With that, she whirled, grabbed up her purse from her station and headed for the door. “By the way, Mama Ji, I quit.”

  Minnie yelped as if shot. “Ivy, no.”

  “Ivy Gemelli, you walk out that door,” Ji announced in that truly impressive bellow, “and I swear to you that I will never again speak…to my sister.”

  Fully prepared to be shut out of Ji’s life—and the Dao family—forever, Ji’s unexpected words made Ivy stumble to a stop, her hand resting on the door handle. “What?” she asked the door, still shaking with rage and stubbornly refusing to turn back. If she saw Ji or Minnie again, she might weaken, and after being accused of betraying Ji, she was in no fucking mood to give in.

  She heard Ji’s slow, measured steps behind her. “You see, I love my sister, Ivy. She’s a good manager of the salon, a good friend to me and a good aunt to Minh. But…she’s never been good to you.”