Damn her for testing him. “Will you help me with something?”
“Just say the word, anytime, anywhere.”
She nodded. Again, he was there for her without a second thought. He even remembered to bring the screw, a small thing that would be insignificant to anyone else, but not to her. At least someone paid attention. She also promised to give him an answer. How long was he supposed to wait?
Because she honestly liked Shane, she wanted to say yes. Without a doubt she would get stomped on in the end, and she couldn’t afford to have that happen to her again.
“Lindsay?” He picked the cash out of the bills.
“I’ll give you an answer after your rounds.” Her resolve faded away like a bad investment.
Chapter Five
“Get in.” Shane guided Lindsay into the back seat of Ivan’s SUV. Carson shoved him aside to get in the back, but Shane caught him by the collar and scowled at him.
“I get shotgun?” Carson raised his hands.
Ivan turned from the driver’s seat. “Am I your freaking chauffeur?”
“Yep.” He narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers. “Get going, Jeeves.”
“Whatever.” Ivan started the car.
“It’s not bad back here.” While he wanted to cheer at convincing her to go with them, he simply stretched and smiled. His goal of showing her his money issues without begging worked. She paled when Ivan, Carson and Billy paid their bills. This was in the bag.
She smiled and settled into her seat.
Something about her made him want to scoot over and put his arm around her, but he refrained, having a feeling it would lead to a definite refusal of her help.
Classic rock music kept them company, and Shane took his opportunity to observe her. The streetlights illuminated her small features, making her appear even tinier. An undercurrent of sadness surrounded her. He knew people and something wasn’t right with her.
Ivan turned the corner down Sunset and Lindsay dipped her head down.
“Oh.”
He leaned over to try to figure out what captivated her, but it was only the same boulevard as always.
Ivan changed lanes to take the shortcut to their first stop and she put her hand on the window.
“Stay on Sunset!” Shane slid over to the middle.
“What?” Ivan slammed on the breaks.
“Stay on Sunset and then turn around and go down Hollywood and then we’ll double back to see Alfred. Go by the Roxy and the studios and the Pantages.” Lindsay straightened up. Yes, he nailed it. “Seriously, go around, we need to kill some time.”
Ivan strummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You want me to drive directly into traffic and go out of our way?” He aimed the rearview mirror into the backseat. “Are you a tourist?”
“Yes!” He growled. “Can you just do it? Do you have anything better planned?”
“Fine, all aboard Ivan’s tour bus. Next we’ll go visit the stars’ homes.” Ivan stayed on Sunset. “Would you like me to stop for any cheesy souvenirs?”
A detail he didn’t plan on, but a good one. “Go by Nick’s, we can find plenty of cheddar there.”
A genuine smile shining brighter than a spotlight on a starlet lit up Lindsay’s face, and she put her hand over her mouth. As Ivan weaved in and out of Friday night traffic on Sunset and Hollywood, Shane got his chance to move closer and play guide. Why hadn’t she seen these things yet? These sights were Hollywood’s rites of passage, usually the first thing people flocked to.
Ivan parked in an alley behind Nick’s souvenir shop. With no hesitation and an ever-growing smile, Lindsay went with him. One detail he neglected to tell her was that his buddy’s store was located just a few steps from one of the most famous movie theatres in the world.
“That’s Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.” She pressed her hands to her heart.
He interlocked his arm in hers. “Would you like to see how your feet compare to Betty Grable’s?”
She stared toward the throng of people at the tourist trap and chewed the inside of her lip. “Would you mind?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.” For someone who could take him down with a few words, she was also timid. An intriguing combination. “Come on.”
With the expertise of a true Southern California native, he guided them through all the notable footprints he could remember. Truth be told, he hadn’t been there in over a decade, but the woman who would save him from his magnitude eight financial disaster didn’t care.
Lindsay giggled and took him from one star’s imprints to the next. Her happiness overflowed and he admitted watching her was worth all the traffic, even if she denied his request for IRS help.
“Look.” He stepped into the hoof prints of Tony the Wonder horse and neighed mainly because he wanted to hear her laugh again.
“Try those.” He took her over to Marilyn Monroe.
She turned crimson and went to a different set. “Look, here’s Doris Day.”
He tilted his head and followed.
“I love her movies.” She put her foot out.
“They’re cool.”
Lindsay glanced at him.
“Yeah.” He took her elbow and guided her back to Marilyn. “Don’t tell anyone I watch them when I can’t sleep.”
She paused for a second and then stepped into the famous footprints.
“How do girls walk in heels?” He bent down mainly to check out her leg. “Wow, I bet you could have fit into her shoes.”
“I don’t think so.” She stepped away.
The sadness came back full force, surrounding her like a dark curtain.
“I don’t think anyone would really want to fit in her shoes.”
She gave him an obligatory smile and held up her phone to take a picture of the theatre.
He wedged himself in the picture and made a goofy face. “Let’s go look at the walk of Fame.”
Her laughter rewarded him.
“You know.” He leaned down. “I take back my comment, I wouldn’t want you to fit in her shoes, you may be a blonde, but you’re unique.”
The real smile returned, along with the blush. “I thought every man preferred the blonde bombshell.”
“Blonde bombshell with brains.” He shrugged, not needing to talk anymore about his preferences in women.
“Shane?” She took his arm.
“Yes, we can ditch everyone, walk down the street see a play at the Pantages and I’ll still have time to make an honest woman out of you.” He gave her a patented line doing his best impression of John Wayne. Hey, they were at Grauman’s.
“I just wanted to thank you for doing this.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek.
He stopped. Her kiss was barely even that, actually he hardly felt it. What he did feel was her hair brushing against his face, her hand using his shoulder for support, and her breath feathering down his neck. When she lowered, a light waft of her lightly floral perfume swirled around him.
“I owe you one … more than one.” She averted her eyes.
“I’m having a great time.” He led her away.
*~*~*
By the time they returned to the car to make their rounds, they had strolled the Walk of Fame while Lindsay entertained him with movie star trivia. After a visit with Nick, she also owned a picture of the two of them in a gaudy Hollywood frame made to look like a movie cell. Later he would touch up Nick’s tattoo.
Shane led her to a table in the small, dark piano bar where Alfred worked his normal job. A warm feeling overtook him when he watched her show the picture to Carson again. His brother flipped his hair out of his face and gave her a thumbs up. Her face glowed, and she kept checking behind her to make sure he was there. Every time she searched for him, he made sure to acknowledge her in some way. He was nothing if not attentive.
“Sit here.” He pulled a chair out for her and bent down. “Just tell Ivan anything you want. We get comped here so go for it. I’ll be righ
t back.”
“Why?” She tilted her head back at him.
“Why what?” His mind wandered to how cute she looked all backwards.
“Why is everything comped here?”
Her attitude went from happy to serious in an instant, and he felt like he‘d been caught committing a crime. “Alfred is one of the artists at my shop and it’s part of his shop fee to me.”
“I see. I’ll look for lobster tails and caviar then.” She righted herself and picked up the menu.
Somehow he got the distinct feeling she disapproved, but he needed to get these bills paid. “I’ll be right back.”
He leaned against a wall watching the servers pass until Alfred came by. “Hey.” Even though Alfred knew he would be here, the man still jumped back as if surprised, held up a finger and disappeared to the back.
Shane pulled the bills out of his pocket and shut his eyes. Time was running out, but until he had another road to travel, this was his only choice. He needed all of his artists or he wouldn’t get his bills paid at all.
“Okay, let’s play the game.” Alfred pointed at him. “Who’s the chick at your table?”
He fanned out the envelopes. “No concern of yours.”
“You guys ordered a lot of food.”
“You owe me a ton of money.” He shook the documents at his artist.
“Give me a break, I helped land you that press in the local rag, and I got your sister that makeup gig.”
“Dude, we have a deal.” Begging for money every month took its toll on him.
“I bring in so much business.”
“You take our overflow and flash.”
“I referred three customers to Ivan this month.” Alfred crossed his arms.
“Ivan doesn’t own part of the tattoo shop.” A soft but serious female voice intruded.
Shane spun to find Lindsay. All night her emotions had run the gamut from sad to happy, and now her wide eyes, hands on her hips and foot tapping told him she was most definitely mad or irritated. “Lindsay?”
She interrupted her glare at Alfred to glance at him. “Sorry.”
“No!” He pulled her into the thick of the conversation. “Continue.”
She chewed her lip and nodded. “Do you have a formal contract with Permanent Tattoo?”
The way she said “formal contract” sounded official. In an instant a tigress had replaced his timid tulip.
Alfred shook his head.
“You do understand that if you get a tattoo in Hollywood, Shane’s is the place to go, correct?” She raised her hands and hooked her fingers into little quotation marks.
At her little sexy gesture Shane leaned back on his heels.
“Yes, but …”
Was Alfred going to argue with her? Shane primed to pound him, but Lindsay held her own.
“No.” Her quotation marks became a disciplinary finger wag. “The only reason the shop is so renowned is because of Shane Elliott. You have a verbal agreement to pay a bill each month, so may I suggest that you choose one immediately because next month you will be paying a normal rental fee with no more trades, comps, or shenanigans.”
At the talk of shenanigans, rental fees and dominatrix hand motions coming out of little Miss Lindsay, a warmth rose in Shane and he took a fast peek at the front of his pants to ensure nothing else was rising. She was amazing, incredible, and the only one who could save him, but all he wanted to do at the moment was take hold of her, bend her back and lay a hot wet one on her.
Alfred glanced between him and Lindsay and chose an envelope. Without another word, he opened it and obediently turned it to Lindsay.
She nodded and Alfred reached into his pocket, rifled through some bills and held them out to her.
“You’re short thirty-seven dollars and forty-three cents.”
“How do you know? You didn’t even count.”
“She knows.” He needed her, bad.
“Shane never makes me pay the change.”
“I’m not Shane.” She stomped her foot.
Alfred coughed up the rest and handed it to her. “She’s harsh.”
“There are many costs associated with running a tattoo shop including mortgage and taxes.” Once more Lindsay attacked, counting the items off on her fingers. “There is also equipment, disposables, advertising, other marketing, and utilities. These things will be considered as we reevaluate your arrangement in the future.”
“I need to work at Permanent.” Alfred’s voice took on a whiney tone. “You don’t understand.”
A slow smile crossed her face, but Shane would have called it more of an evil grin.
He took her shoulders, stood behind her and bent down to her ear. “What are disposables?”
Without turning, she answered. “Items that you use up, like your ink and other things that I have yet to research.”
“Does that mean you are going to help me?”
“I don’t think I have a choice.” She took the money, recounted it in such a way that every bill ended up facing the same way, and snatched the bill back from Alfred.
“You’re a goddess.” In an effort to reclaim the moment they had outside the theatre, he bent down and kissed her temple, breathing in her scent. The sick feeling he’d carried with him everywhere when he was drowning in debt and taxes lifted a little, but then she tensed. “Linds?”
She held a hand out to him. “Give me the rest of the mail.”
Without hesitation he thrust the bills toward her.
She leafed through them, and with not as much as another word, walked back to the table, the click of her heels echoing in her wake.
“What the hell was that?” Alfred pointed in her direction.
“My new business manager.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her and he shook his head when she tripped on her shoe. “See you at the shop.”
Chapter Six
“I looked over the contracts as well as the listing on the Internet, and I believe with the right bit of persuasion I can convince your building owner to let you out of the lease without penalty.”
Lindsay assessed the black pants and purple button down she put on, shaking her head at her father’s words.
What did one wear to a tattoo parlor anyway? It was a mistake to help Shane. She enjoyed him too much. Her only plan was to try to do it all as fast as possible and pray she survived. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m supposed to be proving I can do this on my own.”
“I’ll make an exception. You said yourself that the place was a rundown hovel. I don’t think it meets with your expectations.” Her father’s voice took on an even more authoritative air. “The other day a poisonous insect almost killed you.”
“It was a spider, an arachnid is in a totally different class than an insect.” She unbuttoned one button on her shirt and then fastened it again. “They’re both arthropods.”
Her mother gasped in the phone extension. “I don’t think I have ever seen a bug in this house.”
“Of course not, daddy kills them before you see them.” No wonder she went running from the thing. She balanced the phone between her cheek and shoulder and returned to her closet.
“You should come back home where there are no bugs.” Her mother said.
“This apartment has its own kind of charm and I really don’t want to move again. My firm paid for the move.” True, when she first moved in the old 50’s style building with none of the newer amenities it bothered her, and yes the website took strategic pictures to make the building look better, but she was there now. She had neighbors.
“Hollywood is not what you think it is, you should have moved to Beverly Hills.” Her father raised his voice. “Had I known about any of this I wouldn’t have allowed it. You planned all this behind our backs!”
At his outburst, she dropped her phone and scrambled to pick it up. “You wouldn’t have let me go any other way.”
“You have precisely five months and one week left of your experiment and then we are flying out th
ere and bringing you back home where you belong.”
“It’s actually five months and nine days, and we decided I could stay if I proved I could do this on my own.” An argument at this point was useless.
“Find a respectable apartment in Beverly Hills.” Her father raised his voice.
“One where there are no bugs.” Her mother added.
“I can’t afford Beverly Hills, plus this is Hollywood, land of Stars.”
“Is everyone blonde?” Her sister had jumped on to another extension.
“Of course not, that’s just silly.” Her hand went to her hair, remembering how Shane said the words, blonde bombshell with brains. What would her parents say when they saw her makeover?
“Can you see the Hollywood sign?” Her mother piped in again.
“No, but I saw Grauman’s Chinese Theatre last night.” When the words left her mouth her stomach flipped and she frowned. She held up a pair of jeans and shook her head. If she wanted to make the break, she needed to take on the role of the corporate accountant, not Shane’s friend.
“Who cares? She could see it on a postcard.” Her father moaned. “Find a new apartment and I’ll pay the difference.”
For a moment she considered living in one of the grand luxury buildings she’d seen, complete with the little markets and dry cleaners right in the lobby and bit her lip.
“How about instead you come home early and I’ll give you part of the business as a welcome home gift? You’ve always been smart. Prove it now.”
She clenched her fist and let the pants fall to the floor. A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. “I have to go.”
“Where are you going?” Her mother called into the phone. “Out with work friends?”
“No, just a commitment I have to finish fast.” She hung up and took a deep breath as she walked to the door. Her stomach dropped at the sight of him. With his height, he took up most of the doorway in his jeans, a rock band t-shirt and tennis shoes. She guessed one didn’t wear black pants and an oxford shirt to a tattoo shop. This was not her world.
“Hello, oh savior of mine.” He bowed and gave her a huge grin. “I have three things for you.”
Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) Page 4