Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) (6 page)

“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 there 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.”

“I thought I was supposed to be working for you.” While she meant her phrase to come out businesslike, she realized it sounded like it could have meant something else and wrinkled her nose.

He raised his eyebrows and laughed. “First, I have breakfast.” A bag appeared from behind his back. “You haven’t lived until you had one of these muffins. Mitch down the street makes them.”

A heavenly lemon scent wafted from the warm bag, almost as good as Shane’s soap. Not wanting to think about that, she looked at him, squinting when the sun hit her in the eye.

“That brings me to my second item.” Like magic he reached behind him once more and a pair of sunglasses materialized. He slipped them on her. “You must have these when you live out here, the UV rays are stronger.”

The thoughtful gift left her speechless. She kept meaning to get a pair but couldn’t decide on a style.

He adjusted them and then patted his hair in the glasses’ reflection. “Perfection.” He winked and adjusted her collar. “You look great.”

“Thank you?” It came out as a question, but she wasn’t prepared for the way her mouth dried up when his fingers brushed her neck. She swallowed. It was imperative for her to gain control over the situation. “I made a list of things we have to review.” She retrieved notes from her desk. “This way we can move fast and I can collect anything I need.”

He snatched the list, glanced at it and handed it back. “That brings me to item number three.” He motioned for her to come with him. “Which is actually part one of our journey together.”

She lifted her hand to stop and tell him that this couldn’t be a journey, it was only a short road trip, when he captured her fingers, dragged her outside and over to his apartment.

Powerless to resist, she was thrust into his abode. She removed her glasses and smiled when his place was precisely as she’d pictured. Almost an exact duplicate of her apartment except it was flipped. In contrast to her cream colored walls, his were white, with one painted black. His furniture was mismatched and well worn.

However, the artwork strategically placed on the black wall caught her eye. These colorful canvases were amazing pieces depicting landscapes, seascapes and an interplanetary scene all with a flair for being a little abstract and left of center. Drawn to the art, she took a step toward it, shocked out of her trance-like state when Shane tugged her.

“Here’s exhibit one.” He flipped the cushion off the couch.

“Oh no!” Exactly as she had with the spider, she lunged toward the first thing that represented safety in the face of danger, namely Shane.

“We really need to keep meeting like this.” He put his arm around her and turned her face away from the couch. “Don’t look directly at it. I don’t want you to burn your eyes.”

She pushed back from him, ensuring she would not get any wafts of soap. “We
need
to look directly at it.”

“No.” He took a step away.

“
You
need to look directly at it.” Head raised, she collected the envelopes from the IRS from the couch. Of the more than twenty letters, less than half were open.

“Maybe you shouldn’t touch them.” Shane stayed back, looking like he’d just tasted something really bad. “No one should have to.”

“It’s all right. I’m an accountant and that makes me immune.” She held one up that appeared drenched in some sort of liquid and dried out.

“Soda may dissolve your insides, but it doesn’t do a thing to those letters.”

She recalled an envelope bursting out of a first aid kit while she lay bleeding, and she put her hand on her hip. “Where are the rest?”

He frowned. “How do you know?”

She stood her ground with a tap of her foot.

With his head hung low, for the next five minutes Shane walked around his apartment and collected stray letters. The stack grew and she found a bag and followed him.

“This is like trick or treat.” He lifted a dead plant, retrieved another envelope and dropped it in the bag.

“Is it the trick or the treat?” She pressed her lips together.

The letters were everywhere, in his silverware drawer, under the sink, between his mattress and box spring, in the medicine cabinet and in a cereal box.

He tossed the box in the sink. “I never liked that cereal.”

“So you added your own special prize?”

With a wide toothy grin he tried to be cute, but she couldn’t allow it. “At least you didn’t add milk.”

“See, that counts for something. Right?”

She blinked. How he could live knowing the letters were there and multiplying? Her job wasn’t to psychoanalyze him, only to get his mess in order. She tied the bag shut and headed toward the door. “I’ll meet you at your store.”

“Shop.” He dashed after her. “I’ll drive.”

 “I’ll follow you over.” If she let him drive, she wouldn’t be able to leave when she wanted.

“I really don’t mind.” He followed her to her apartment.

“I may have to run an errand or two so this will work out better.” In a race, she rushed down the stairs and got inside her car just as he came up to the window.

“Follow me and don’t get lost.”

She won. She felt like she should get a trophy. “No problem.”

Shane patted the roof of her car indicating for her to get going, and she turned the key only to have the vehicle let out a sick clatter.

He crossed his arms.

On her second try her engine light illuminated and she pumped the accelerator. “Hold on.”

“Don’t flood the engine.” He leaned back on his heels.

When her third attempt didn’t net her a favorable result, she leaned over, opened the glove box and took out the owner’s manual.

He bent down. “Open your hood.”

“I think I read about this.” She thumbed through the pages.

He stuck his head into the car. “You highlighted your owner’s manual?”

“Of course, this tells you everything you need to know about operating this car.”

He kept his eye on her as he hit the button to pop open the hood. “With these cars, when the engine light goes on we’ll probably have to take it in.”

As he finished his sentence she found the passage in the manual. “If the engine light comes on, call the dealership.”

“Oh no.” He took the book out of her hands, tossing it in the back seat. “No dealership.”

“It says …” She twisted around to retrieve the book.

“It says let me rip you off. I’ll take care of this while you take care of bigger and better things.” He opened the door for her.

“You don’t have to. I can take care of my own car.” At least she probably could, she never had to before, but she had the owner’s manual.

He waited for her to exit and grabbed her purse and muffins.

“It’s my responsibility.” She glared at him even though he couldn’t see her eyes with the sunglasses on.

“Your responsibility is to take care of me.” He slid his cell phone out of his pocket.

No, he wasn’t hers. She was making good on a favor. His fingers press the keys with lightning speed.

“Shane, seriously?”

“Carson will get Carlos, a buddy of mine.” He looked up. “I put a tattoo of a Corvette Stingray on his back. If I trust him with my baby, he’s good enough for yours.”

Everything moved at breakneck speed with him and she turned away to collect herself. She didn’t know any mechanics, and even she knew better than to go to the dealer. Also, she really needed her car. Why hadn’t she bought new? Everything she needed for California had cost more than she thought.

“Thank you.” She added yet another item in her ledger owed to Shane Elliott, and another tick against her for not taking care of things herself.

“Excellent.” He took her keys and slammed the hood down without looking at the engine.

Did he always get what he wanted? The man seemed to thrive on her weakness.

*~*~*

“Here we are.” Shane parked his car in a small parking lot behind a strip mall. He pointed to a maroon door and climbed out of the car. “That’s the back, but since you are a first timer, we’ll go in the front so you can get the full impact.”

Her nerves overtook her at the thought of really going into a tattoo shop without the ability to leave. He led her to the main street past a row of stores, including a pawn shop, a Japanese restaurant and a small clothing boutique. An artsy area, not at all what she expected. Permanent Tattoo sat on the corner, the sign painted in the same style artwork as the pictures on his walls in the apartment.

With the windows tinted, it was impossible to see inside until he opened the door. After entering, she stood and absorbed the space, a cross between a barbershop and a fun house. Maroon walls were almost completely covered with framed art, apparently of the different tattoos one could get. Black and maroon tiles created a checkerboard pattern on the floor. What surprised her most was that the place was cleaner than she imagined.

“Let’s give you the grand tour.” He set her bag down, put his arm around her and turned her toward one wall. “The art on this wall is called flash, or stock tattoos, but in this shop we also hang custom work.”

She wanted to know why the art was called flash rather than art or samples and raised her hand.

“It’s called flash because it can be done in a flash.” He winked and motioned toward another wall. “This is Carson’s art.”

On cue Carson came bounding out from the back. “I rock it.”

“You’re learning.” Shane pointed.

“I’m also rocking your car.” Carson tapped Lindsay on the shoulder, flipped his hair out of his eyes, and held his hand out to Shane who tossed him the keys. “What do you think?”

Carson’s artwork was precisely what she would expect of a tattoo artist, consisting of skulls and pinup girls. “It’s very lovely.”

He raised his thumb at her and turned to Shane. “Do I get a lesson today?”

“Get her car fixed first.” Shane motioned him away.

With a salute to his brother, Carson left and Shane turned her to another wall. “This is Ivan’s art.”

“Wow.” She nodded at the incredible landscapes that looked to be painted.

Shane turned her once more. “This is mine.”

Her body tensed at the sight of Shane’s art. His pictures possessed a style all their own, and matched the front of the building and the art in his apartment, landscapes and intricate animals and portraits. Some pieces done to look like machines and even the inside of the human body, as if one could pull back the skin and get a peek.

Entranced, she walked toward the wall. “You did this?”

“All of it.”

She touched a picture of a water lily.

“Do you like them?”

Her eyes flitted from one drawing to another. “Do you do these free hand?”

“Yes.”

She studied the pictures for a few more moments. “They’re incredible.”

Shane put his arm around her shoulder. “Over here is our reception area and display case.”

“You sell jewelry?” At the mention of retail, she retrieved her list and pencil from her purse and made a notation. She tilted her head at the gold and silver earrings, some in the shape of balls or hearts, or even with little jewels.

“We do piercings here.” He knelt down with her.

“Like ears.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Ears, tongues, belly buttons, anything that needs a hole in it.” He laughed.

Her hand went to her ear. She’d always wanted her ears pierced, but it involved a needle through her flesh.

Shane moved her hair aside. “Wow a virgin.” He leaned in to get a better look.

She gasped when his breath grazed her ear.

He took her ear between his fingertips. “You have a beautiful lobe.”