Work of Art (3 page)

I laughed. I ventured
to guess he got laid a lot. He was good looking, rich, and not at all pretentious. He was sort of a catch – if I was looking for a great weekend in bed. I wasn’t. I was swearing off guys after my last break-up three months earlier.

I looked o
ver at him, and he was grinning. Damn, I was a sucker for adorable men.

I bit my thumb between my teeth, contemplating if I wanted to invite Brandon back to my apartment. It had been a while since I’d gotten any, and maybe that was part of my problem. My best friend Julian always told me I was too uptight for my own good.
He told me I needed to be more laid back, as in laid back with a really hot guy on top of me. But I rarely took his advice.

“Damn, you’re like a hot librarian in that outfit,” Brandon said, eyeing the black sleeveless dress and plain black heels I’d worn to bury my mother.

I didn’t normally wear things that conservative and had only bought the dress for the funeral, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe I am,” I sa
id, letting my long hair spill over my shoulder.

“You have to give me your number,” he insisted.

“Why? You live in Boston.”

And I’m not entertaining your ‘I’m getting laid on vacation’ fantasies.

“Yeah, so. Maybe we can hook up for drinks while I’m in town. And then if I buy this winery and move to San Fran, you can be my friend, because shit knows my buddy’ll be chained down once he ties the knot. Come on. I promise I won’t try to sleep with you.”

I laughed out loud. “I really don’t believe you.”

He chuckled. “Nah, you’re cool as shit, and hot, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Why? Do you suck in bed?”

He laughed as only someone who knows how good they are can do, and I was really, really tempted to oblige him.

“
Only if asked,” he said, as his tongue slowly touched his top lip, and I felt a pull in my belly that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Brandon, I’d never sleep with you,” I said honestly. “You say San Fran instead of San Francisco, and I hate when people
cutsie things up.”

He laughed
a big raucous laugh. “Touché. But no really, I won’t
try
to sleep with you because I don’t see women after I sleep with them, and I’d sort of like to hang out with you. You’ve made this flight rather enjoyable, Harper.”

“I’m happy to
indulge you Brandon, as you are not the douchebag I feared you might be when you sat down, but you are a dirtbag, and for that I applaud you.”

“Ah, thank you for n
oticing. So, can I get your number?”

“Seriously?
Why?”

He over-exagg
erated rolling his eyes. “So we can hang out and not have sex. Geez, weren’t you listening?”

“Fine,” I grumbled, as I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out one of my
business cards. I handed it to him unceremoniously.

He looked at it for a few seconds, and then his eyes flew back to me.
“Holy shit! You’re Harper Connelly?!”

“The one and only.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!”

Because I knew you’d
react like this.

About a year earlier,
Hit!
had done a spread on the top fifteen up and coming tattoo artists in the country, and I’d been featured. It seemed that ever since Kat Von D had made a name for herself, everyone thought female artists were the complete shit. But I hadn’t been complaining. My parlor, Art Studio, had gained a ton of notoriety and business as a result.

“Shit. You’re like the hottest tattoo artist in San Francisco!”

I laughed. “I definitely wouldn’t go that far, but I can hold my own.”

“Holy shit.
You’ve gotta ink me while I’m out there. You
have
to.”

“What do you want done?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Design me something. Anything.”

I rolled my eyes.
“Typical frat boy.”

“Hey now.
I was not in a frat.”

“No, but you act just like a frat boy
. ‘Give me anything you want.’ The last guy who told me that ended up with a penis on his arm.”

“No shit,” Brandon said in awe.

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that, but I was sure as hell tempted.”

He laughed. “Hilarious.
”

Chapter Two

Harper

I o
pened the door to my apartment and nearly stopped breathing.

“Jesus, Julian,” I said, my hand going over my rapidly beating heart. “Wh
at the hell are you doing here?”

“Cupcake!”
Julian cheered, getting up from my couch and crossing the room to me. He wrapped his muscular arms around me and picked me up off the ground. “I didn’t know you’d be home so early. Baby girl, I missed you.”

“I caught an earlier flight,” I said, hugging him back. I realized I’d missed his familiar comfort while I’d been away.

“Couldn’t stand the Beantown Bitches anymore?”

“Not for one more minute
. Now please put me down.”

“Fine,” he said, unceremoniously setting me on my feet.

I crossed my arms and shook my head, noticing he was dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and black pants. He looked like he’d been on a date.

“Now why are you in my apartment?”

He smiled broadly, his white teeth a brilliant contrast to the chocolate color of his smooth skin. “I had a date, and since he is famous and he’s not out, I brought him here for the afternoon.”

My mouth dropped open in irritation or offense or something possibly akin to jealousy. “
Tell me you didn’t sleep with him in my bed,” I said, glaring at him as I walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

“
No, I did not,” he said, obviously offended by my accusation, as he followed close behind me. I handed him a bottle of water. “You know I don’t have sex until the third date, and that’s only if there’s long-term potential. Besides, I would never do that in your bed. I just came here because my cleaning lady doesn’t come until tomorrow, and my place is a mess.”

“And you assumed I’d be gone until late tonight, right?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, and that. Are you mad?”

I shook my head as I took a sip of water. “No, I’m not mad. I’m a little jealous, but that’s it.”

He shook his head endearingly. “You have had a bit of a dry spell, haven’t you?”

I shrugged. “I met a guy on the plane, actually.”

His eyebrows rose, and I could see the excitement lighting his eyes. “Is there potential?”

I shook my head. “No, he’s not my type, but he was fun to talk to.”

Julian smiled. “I think you should call him,” he suggested, conspiratorially. He was always trying to set me up.

I returned his grin. “Not a chance. I’m swearing off men for a while
, you know that. So tell me about today’s guy. He was famous?”

I knew a subject change was the best way to get the attention off of me and the lack of men in my life.

Julian grinned even wider. “He’s an actor.”

I raised an eyebrow in question. Julian charged five hundred dollars for a haircut, so his clients were all some
body. It wasn’t rare that he had the occasional celebrity in his chair.

“Really?
Anyone I’d recognize?”

“Donovan Collins,” he confirmed, and my jaw dropped.

“The dark-haired guy from the
Earthbound
movies? He’s gay?”

“Oh yes, and he made no secret about letting me know.”

“Juicy details, please,” I said, as I leaned against the counter waiting for Julian to continue. He got hit on more than anyone I knew, and he always had the best stories that went with how he met the guys he dated.

He grinned.
“Well, he came in for an appointment yesterday, and I closed the shop, per his assistant’s request when she made the appointment. And let me tell you, he was even more gorgeous in person, and his hair was so think and dark. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it, but he was with his bodyguard and some chick on a cell phone, and he was acting all formal and reserved, so I assumed the same attitude.”

“Well, you are a professional after all,” I said half-sarcastically, but it was true. Julian was as fun loving and playful and gregarious as they came, but he knew when he needed to turn it off for a client.

“Uh, yeah. The last thing I need is for some pretty boy actor to go badmouthing me all over Hollywood for being unprofessional. So, anyway, we go into the private room since he doesn’t want anyone seeing him through the windows, and the bodyguard and the chick stay out front. And I start massaging his scalp, and he isn’t saying much. Then he starts telling me how he’s looking for a new stylist because he fired his old one and asks if I’d be interested. Did you know he’s from the Bay Area?”

I shook my head. I didn’t pay much attention to Hollywood
gossip or celebrity fun facts any more than I had to. Once and a while one of them would end up under my needle, but I didn’t take the time to learn the intimate details of their lives.

“Well, he is, and he tells me he’s planning to move back here part time and asks if he could keep me on call for when he needs his hair done, blah, blah, blah. So I say
fine, and I cut and color his hair, he thanks me, and it’s over. He takes my card and leaves while the chick pays me, and I think that’s it, but then when the chick leaves, he walks back in and comes up right behind me, so I turn around, and he’s giving me this sexy look. Then he says, ‘I’m in town for another day. Can we get together?’ And I think, okay, does he want me to do something else to his hair, because I worked my magic, and it looked good, so I wasn’t sure what else he wanted.”

“What did he want?” I asked, riveted by his story.

Julian grinned. “A date. He told me his hair was perfect, and then he took a step toward me, put his hand on my cheek, told me I was perfect, and he kissed me. And it was a damn good kiss, so I gave him your address and told him to meet me for lunch today. And I had food delivered, and I lit candles, and it was all sorts of romantic, and now I think I’m in love.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.
“After one date?”

Julian fell in love a lot. It was sweet, but he got burned a lot when the guy didn’t end up feeling the same way about him.

“After one date,” he confirmed, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. “And we have another date tomorrow night. He extended his stay so we could see each other again.”

Okay, so maybe Julian
had
found a good guy. And I was happy him. And a little jealous. I wished it was that easy for me to fall in love, but it just wasn’t.

“That’s really sweet,” I told him. “I hope he knows what a great guy he’s going out with.”

Julian grinned. “I think he knows. So, do you hate me?” he asked, the empathy in his voice no doubt a response to the look on my face. “You saw that
Earthbound
movie four times in the theater. Did I swipe your crush?”

I rolled my eyes at him
. “I did not see it four times. I only saw it three times, partly because Kelly dragged me, and partly because I was lusting after Garrett Lewis the whole time.”

“That’s because he’s a preppy boy.”

I threw my hands up in surrender. “Fine, I like guys who look like they stepped out of a J. Crew ad. Sue me.”

“Cupcake, Prince Wi
lliam is at the top of your to-do list. You
should
be sued.”

He’d made fun of me for my Prince William fantasies for years, but a part of me sort of got off on
a guy who could rock a pair of wellies. I considered it a sickness.

“And Garrett Lewis is second,” I said, ignoring his barb.

He shook his head. “Yet when he came in for ink two months ago, you barely spoke to him as you worked on him. You’re ridiculous.”

Yeah, that had been a great day. I’d had Garrett Lewis in my chair for two hours – and I’d said barely two words to him – but the whole time I inked his shoulder, I
had these dying urges to land my lips on his skin. It was bad, and he was so nice. He tried to talk to me while I worked, but he started to make me so flustered I was afraid I was going to make a mistake, so I told him I needed to have silence to work.

“He’s dating
some actress, Sophie something or other. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not the kind of girl who steals a guy out from under someone.”

Julian
waved his hand in dismissal. “Pssh, you can’t believe everything you read. Don’t you know that?”

“Jules, he was there with her.
Paulie worked on her while I worked on him.”