House of Payne: Tag

by Stacy Gail

  “Ivy.” His voice lowered. Softened. “Yeah.”

  “So, shouldn’t she be given this?”

  “I shared the reveal with her. That was enough, trust me on this.” He found himself smiling, something that happened a lot these days, but all too soon that smile faded as the darkness of reality intruded. “Did I mention she was the sister of that kid who got himself killed a while back?”

  Malik grimaced. “Hate to say it, my friend, but lots of kids who’ve passed through this park got themselves killed a while back.”

  “Teo. Weird little kid who wore a bomber jacket even in the summer.”

  “The one who hung out at the basketball courts whenever the Yard Kings decided to show up?”

  “That’s the one. Teo. He was Ivy’s baby brother.”

  “You don’t say.” Malik shook his head and looked toward the lightening skies in the east. “Terrible thing, what happened to that boy. Nobody should die like that. Fire, wasn’t it?”

  “He was shot first, along with the owner of the place that got burned down. It was a custom auto paint shop a couple blocks from here.”

  “I remember that place,” his friend said, surprising him. “I wanted to get my ride tricked out by them, but before I could get serious about making a decision on what I wanted, the place was gone—burned down right to the foundation. Damn shame, too. They did good work.”

  Of course they did. That was where Ivy had begun. “The owner of the business, the guy who was killed along with Teo…that was Ivy’s uncle.”

  His friend’s brows arched. “Uncle? You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “So, wait. You’re saying that kid and the owner of the business that got hit…they were related?”

  “Yeah.” It had been hours since Ivy told him and the shock of it was still like a fresh punch in the gut. “I never knew that the man who died in that shop with Teo was his uncle. Her entire family, what was left of it, got wiped out that night. That was the night she was left alone in the world, in a way that no one should have to endure.”

  “My God.” Malik closed his eyes as if in pain, which made sense. Anyone with a soul would have felt an echo of pain for the loss Ivy had had to endure all on her own. “Oh my dear God, what that boy did… Does she know?”

  So Malik had put it together as well. Not surprising. “No. I can imagine how it must’ve been for the cops. There was Ivy, this poor teenage girl who was alone now because the last of her family had been wiped out, and they had the shit job of telling her that sad tale. So that’s what they told her.”

  What do you mean?”

  “They told her a tale, Malik. They told Ivy a fucking fairytale that she could live with. Hell, maybe they even believed it themselves.”

  Malik’s eyes filled with an awful kind of dread. “What did the cops tell her?”

  Tag turned to look his friend in the eye. “According to what the police told Ivy, little Teo’s a fucking hero in that whole goddamn scenario.”

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

  Tag shook his head. “According to them, he was there to save the day.”

  “Jesus Christ on a crutch.” Still holding on to the wrapped frame, Malik leaned heavily against the side of the SUV. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Why the hell would they tell her that bullshit?”

  “Maybe they felt sorry for her. Hell, maybe that’s how they read the scene and didn’t want to look any deeper themselves.”

  “That is so fucked up.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Malik was silent for almost a minute before he shot him a searching glance. “Just how close are you to Teo’s sister?”

  Tag looked out at the quiet vista of the park, so peaceful as dawn slowly broke over their part of the world. “She’s my woman now. That’s something I’ve never said before in my life, because I’ve never had what I have with Ivy. I may sound crazy, but I don’t think anyone on the planet has ever had what we have. It’s that good.”

  “Then don’t ever tell her the truth,” Malik said bluntly, and the urgency in his friend’s voice shocked him. “You got something that rare, that means I’m standing here with one of the luckiest men on earth. Better still, you know you’re the luckiest man on earth, so that means you’ve got a job on your hands, son. A job of protecting the most valuable treasure there is. Shit like this…it’ll shatter that treasure before you can even fucking blink.”

  Tag’s clenched his teeth. “That was my first instinct, too. Gotta admit, I’m surprised you agree with keeping the truth from her.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? This ain’t a credit card bill that got run up, or an online porn account you don’t want your woman to know about. Lots of soft-handed, touchy-feely assholes might say secrets in a relationship are toxic, but this ain’t a stupid-ass episode of Dr. Phil. This is Back of the Yards. There are some secrets that should never, ever see the light of day.”

  Tag ground his teeth as the memory of Ivy’s tears surfaced. “You should’ve seen how much pain it brought her just to tell me about how her uncle and brother died, Malik. She loved them so much, you know? To this day she feels their loss, and it makes her suffer. She even has nightmares about how they died.”

  “Damn.” Again Malik closed her eyes. “Not everyone loves like that, or feels that deeply. She must be a good woman.”

  “She is. She’s the best damn human being I’ve ever met. In my eyes, she glows.”

  “Luckiest man on earth,” Malik said again, sounding torn between awe and envy.

  “I wasn’t able to protect her from this shit-show the first time around, but I sure as hell can protect her from it now. If she needs to have Teo dying as a hero, then fuck it. I’ll go to my damn grave crowing about that little pissant being a hero. Whatever it takes to keep Ivy happy, I’ll swallow that poison and I’ll do it with a smile. As of now, she’s my only priority.”

  Even before Ivy entered through the doors of House Of Payne, all the TV satellite vans clogging the busy road outside told her something big was going on. As she ventured deeper into the building, she saw the lower level art gallery—the same place where she and Tag revealed their tattoo designs—was once again filled with members of the press. Payne was standing on the dais with a blond, tan Adonis with a perfect smile and sleeved-out arms. He looked like an all-natural bodybuilder that belonged on some sunny beach somewhere, and with a modified high-and-tight hairstyle that left his blond hair full on top, Ivy thought he looked like an edgy Ken doll.

  And for some reason, he also looked familiar.

  Spying Scout near the edge of the crowd, Ivy maneuvered her way next to the tattoo studio’s manager. “Hey,” she murmured, keeping her voice low. “Looks like a big deal’s going on. Who’s surfer boy?”

  Scout tilted her head toward her, also keeping her voice pitched low. “You’re looking at potentially the most famous tattooist outside of Payne, and House Of Payne’s latest acquisition. That’s the one and only Ice.”

  Ivy nodded politely. “Oh. Okay.”

  Scout stared at her. “You don’t know Ice?”

  “Should I know Ice?”

  “How can you not know Ice? Are you sure you don’t live in a cave?”

  “Ever the charmer, you are,” Ivy drawled. “Who is Ice?”

  “Reality TV-star tattooist, formerly based in L.A.”

  “He looks it. I’m a Chicagoan, so I’m not used to tans like that. I thought it might be sprayed on.”

  “It’s legit, and so is he. That is, if his audition artwork is any indication.”

  Ivy’s brows shot up. “What’s audition artwork?”

  “The stuff you’ve been doing with Tag for the past month,” Scout smiled, looking smug. “We’re House Of Payne, after all.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I noticed the sign when I came in.”

  “Smartass,” Scout returned pleasantly. “On an average d
ay, I field about half a dozen applications from tattooists from all around the world. Every last one of them wants to come to work at the House, and they all swear they’re the best in the business. A few actually are, but the vast majority are nowhere near the standards that we—or rather, Payne—insists on.”

  “Really?” Considering how easily Payne had accepted her, Ivy couldn’t help but be surprised. “So I’m the weird one-off artist who wandered in off the street?”

  “The circumstances were weird, to say the least,” Scout snorted. “And believe me, we never just accept any artist who wanders in off the street. If they catch Payne’s interest, he gives them various themes to create, to see how good they really are. They’ve got to prove themselves. Otherwise they’re shown the door before they can even breathe the air in here.”

  “Wow.” Ivy looked back to the edgy Ken doll and tried to figure out if he was as much substance as he was gloss.

  Scout nudged her. “Speaking of, I hear Payne’s interested in making you a permanent fixture here at the House. Those weekly manis not enough of a challenge for you?”

  “Why the hell doesn’t anyone appreciate how hard it is to put an accurate depiction of the New York skyline on a set of teeny, tiny human nails? I even throw in the Statue of Liberty on the thumbs, yet everyone sneers.”

  “Not me, babe.” Scout held up her hand, flashing a white and scarlet-tipped manicure. ”I’m a fan of manicurists in general and you in particular. If you wind up slinging ink half as good as you do nails, I’m going to be a permanent part of your life. I like flowers, by the way, especially dandelions. You might want to study up on them.”

  “Pushy.” Ivy found herself chuckling under her breath. “Damn, I like you.”

  “Same goes. There’s my cue,” Scout added as the people in attendance applauded while camera flashes went off. She scooped up an armful of familiar black folders with the House Of Payne logo on it and headed into the throng to hand them out. As she disappeared, Ivy caught Payne’s glance and smiled before pointing to her watch, then back to the stairs. It was the best she could do without yelling across the crowded room that she was there for her first official tattooing lesson, and she’d be happy to wait for him up in his booth.

  It was a good thing he was a sharp guy and therefore understood her crap sign language. He gave her a quick thumbs-up and motioned toward the second level where his booth was located, before heading into the crowd. She turned to follow instructions, and was halfway across the open-design, marble-floored lobby when she heard her name. Turning, she kept her face friendly-neutral when she saw Jonah Buckwald speeding toward her.

  Geez, just the person she didn’t want to see.

  “Ivy, darling, what a happy surprise to find you here.” Again Jonah came in for one of those double-cheek air kisses, but this time she was better prepared for it. “But where is your counterpart? You and the mysterious Tag are never seen apart in public, or so I thought. I rather likened you to a matched set in my latest article. Releasing in Friday’s evening edition, by the way, so be sure to look for it.”

  Friday. The final reveal day for the project she and Tag were doing for the House. “I promise I will. And thank you, by the way, for spending your valuable time on us,” she added sincerely. She might not like the airs this man put on, but she figured if that was what he needed to get through life, then who was she to judge? “I know there are a lot of artists out there who are more than worthy of your interest, so no matter how Friday winds up I just wanted you to know I appreciate all the time and interest you’ve put into this challenge that House Of Payne set up for Tag and me.”

  He looked at her for a long time, his eyes almost mournful. “Oh, my dear, you are one of the good ones, aren’t you? You never deserved the hell your young life has been up to this point. I only hope I can show you a clearer path from this point on. I truly mean that.”

  “Um…thanks.” Since she had no idea what to say to that—and she sure as hell didn’t want anyone pitying her when she’d made it through the worst—she tried to steer things in a different direction. “So, are you planning on being here Friday for the final tattoo design reveal?”

  “Of course, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I even got a special tie lined up—the Guggenheim, which I thought you might like.”

  Aw. That was sweet. “Frank Lloyd Wright was an absolute genius. I’m so glad I’m not the only fan around here.”

  “I’m quite a fan of yours, so I hope you don’t mind my asking…” He leaned in, glancing around conspiratorially. “Any hints on what the theme is for your final design? Perhaps something inspired by one of your favorite artists? Or something pertaining specifically to your life in Back of the Yards? Your little brother, perhaps? It was his actions that brought you onto the path you now tread,” he added when she blinked. “I thought perhaps a tribute to little Matteo would be somewhat appropriate.”

  “Oh.” She could only wonder if it was appropriate that she hadn’t actually started on her design, because up until last night she’d been stuck. But once she’d forced herself to come clean about her feelings with Tag, a miraculous thing happened. Suddenly the block that had been on her creative flow vanished like it had never been, and she knew exactly what she wanted her design to be. “Um. Well, actually…”

  “Ivy, there you are.” As if by magic, Payne appeared at her elbow, all smiles and offering a hand to the older man. “Jonah, always so glad to see you here at the House. What do you think of our latest recruit, Ice?”

  The art critic lifted a brow. “I’ve never watched an episode of his show, if that’s what you mean. I heard it was getting canceled?”

  “Couldn’t be helped, his team was busting up and since no one’s talking to anyone else, Ice decided to move on to greener pastures. The House seemed like a good fit, so here we are.” With a careless shrug, he turned his attention to Ivy. “As for you, my young padawan, are you ready to begin your training?”

  In her excitement, Ivy nearly hopped in place. “I can’t wait.”

  “What’s this?” All eyes, Jonah looked from one to the other. “Is it possible that House Of Payne is in the process of gaining not one star-quality name in its ranks, but two?”

  “Tattooing is a fascinating art medium I know nothing about.” She kept her smile firmly in place as Payne put a hand on her elbow to guide her away. “Payne’s just been kind enough to agree to show me the basics, that’s all. See you for the final reveal on Friday?” she asked as Payne began dragging her away.

  Jonah waved them off. “I’ll be here in the front row, my dear. You can count on that.”

  “Be careful of that old shark, Ivy.” Once they were alone and heading toward the stairs, Payne lowered his voice so that only she could hear him. “He might smile at you, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use his teeth to slice you in half. Whatever you do, don’t trust Jonah Buckwald for a second.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The moment Ivy exited the elevator into his apartment, Tag knew by her ecstatic expression that their evening—starting with dinner and ending with a dessert of pure Ivy—was probably going to go even better than he’d hoped.

  “Tag, honey, I wish you’d gone with me to the House earlier today, because wow, I’ve learned so much about something I thought I understood, but totally did not. Tattooing—and I mean the actual act of it—is an art form in itself. I have no idea if I’m ever going to actually do it, but it’s so exhilarating to learn a new medium when it comes to expressing my creativity, you know? And I think you would love it, even if it does make your hand a little numb after a while.” She took a deep breath, dumped her purse and backpack on the sofa, and came to him at last. “By the way, hi.”

  “Hi yourself.” Smiling, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss. There. That was better. “Glad you could come over tonight.”

  “I almost didn’t.” Her voice was gratifyingly breathless, and he loved that telltale flush in her cheeks as
she backed far enough away to smile at him. “I’ve been a naughty girl.”

  “I like naughty girls. Tell me more.”

  “I haven’t yet started the tattoo design for our final reveal, which just happens to be day after tomorrow.”

  “Holy shit.” That brought his brows together. “Are you still stuck?”

  “No, thank goodness. I know exactly what I want to do, and I’m crazy excited about it, which is why I almost told you I couldn’t come over tonight. But you’ve got a sexy body that’s irresistible, and when you texted that you were going to feed me, my will power crumbled like a house of cards.”

  He listened to the end. “So it was the food that sealed the deal.”

  “Don’t forget the sexy body. You are an XL, after all.”

  “Good to know all your weaknesses.”

  “And let’s be honest,” she added, wrapping her arms around his middle to give him a squeeze, “I didn’t come all this way—while ignoring the call of a project I can’t wait to get started on—just to enjoy your version of bachelor cuisine. You really are impossible to resist.”

  “My tiger.” Curling a hand into her hair with a gentle kind of violence, he kissed her again while the hunger began to rage. Before it could get out of his control completely, he pulled away with a harsh breath. “We better put a hold on this before my bachelor cuisine gets cold.”

  Her breathing was almost as disturbed as his. “I’m fine with cold ramen.”

  “I think I can do a bit better than that. Actually,” he added wryly as he went to the table where a small hand bell was waiting, “I can’t. That’s why I arranged for this.” With that, he rang the bell.

  The door on the far side of the kitchen opened and two people in matching white double-breasted chef uniforms appeared, one pushing a wheeled cart, the other holding a champagne bucket filled with ice and a bottle.

  It was a total kick in the ass to watch Ivy’s mouth drop open.

  “Remember how I was raised,” he said in her ear while she continued to stare, speechless. “You think I’m going to feed my woman anything I made up in the kitchen? Hell, no. I’d never inflict my cooking on you.”