Temporary (Indelibly Marked #2) (6 page)

“So I’ve heard.” She slid her arms into the sleeves,
allowing the aroma of leather and aftershave to swirl around her.

“Emily and I were speaking.” Dillon draped his jacket over
his arm. “I’m not my brother. I don’t need backup.”

“I’m not backup. I’m the front line.” Ivan straightened up
and crossed his arms. “I told Emily not to involve you.”

“She called me, upset and screaming, so I’m here and
involved.” Dillon mirrored Ivan’s stance.

“So the day she cried when she walked into Shane’s place to
find nothing but a mattress, you weren’t involved? How about the times she
called you, but you didn’t bother to answer? Did you know she cried then?” Ivan
moved his face closer to Dillon’s. “Why now?”

Not sure how to stop what she put in motion, she raised her
hand up to her mouth and hit herself in the face with Ivan’s jacket sleeve.
“Guys!”

“Since when did the relationship with my sister turn into
your concern?” Dillon leaned back on his heels.

“Since the day she came to me instead of you.” With those
words, Ivan pointed at Dillon.

Funny how sometimes the answers came from the most unlikely
places. Ivan didn’t truly want her. She was nothing but a huge obligation. A
selfish, silly obligation. The girl who sat back and let her brother and her
best friend argue about her and her family’s business while she thought about
her love life. What had she turned into? Nothing but a whimpering woman.

“Stop!” She moved around Ivan and pushed them apart. “I need
both of you. It’s not even about me, it’s about Permanent Tattoo.”

“Em.” Ivan’s tone gave her a warning.

Dillon remained quiet.

“Ivan, you and I need to take care of the businesses.” She
swallowed. “We need Dillon to help us with the lawsuit. He knows how to deal
with these situations.”

“Emily.” Ivan bent down to her ear but spoke loud enough for
Dillon to hear. “Shane wouldn’t want this.”

“Shane is having a baby and he left the business with us. We
have to make sure it’s not ruined.” She stared into his eyes. “After everything
he’s done for us, we have to fix it no matter what it takes.”

Ivan nodded and turned back to Dillon. “In the end, it’s all
about Shane.”

Dillon focused on her. “You asked me before if I was going
to try to help, or if I was going to help.”

She waited for his answer.

“I’m going to help, but…” He lifted his finger.

In unison both her heart and stomach fell. “But what?”

“I want my sister back.” When he lifted his chin his
resemblance to her other brothers magnified.

“What about everyone else?”

“I want my sister back.”

“Okay.” She held her hand out for a shake.

Instead, Dillon opened his arms.

Though she tried to resist, she closed the distance between
them and gave her brother a hug for the first time in over two years.

He pulled her in for one of his monster hugs and his hand
grazed over her tattoo.

“Ow!” She jumped back, putting her hand over her side,
trying to make the burn subside from the pressure of his embrace and the fabric
of her shirt.

“What the hell?” Dillon reached for her.

“Don’t touch her!” Ivan pulled her away. “You’re here three
seconds and you already hurt her.”

“I gave her a hug.” Dillon tried to move in.

“Let me take a look.” Ivan kneeled down and lifted the side
of her shirt.

“Oh my God!” Dillon took hold of her arm. “What have you
done to yourself?”

With the pain subsiding, she grinned at her brother. “I got
a tattoo. Look.” She twisted around to give him a better view.

“Help me.” Dillon shielded his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” She glanced over at Ivan and down to her
tattoo and side boob.

“There are certain things a brother should not see,” he
groaned. “It’s bad enough that the shirt is transparent.”

Ivan winced and lowered her shirt. “Don’t touch it.”

“It’s safe now.” She stepped back from Ivan.

“Has your other brother seen your markings?” Dillon narrowed
his eyes at them.

“No!” Both she and Ivan yelled in unison.

Dillon tightened his lips.

“Dill, Shane can’t know about anything.” She reached in her
purse and handed him the letter about the lawsuit. “They can’t have any stress.
The baby.”

“That’s still my niece or nephew.” He unfolded the letter,
his brow furrowing as he scanned the pages. “I am going to have to add one more
person to the mix though.”

“Who?” Ivan crossed his arms.

“I need to get working right away.” Dillon folded the letter
and slipped it back in the envelope.

“Dillon.” She held out her hands, waiting for an answer. “We
don’t want anything leaking out to the press until we know how to deal with
it.”

“Meet me at Lawrence’s Bistro at eight tonight for drinks,
and we’ll get our last player involved.” He held his hand out to Ivan. “Both of
you.”

Ivan glanced at her and then thrust his hand into Dillon’s.

“I’m off.” Her brother headed for a tiny car she didn’t
recognize.

“When did you get a car?” She called after him. The last she
heard his car was stuck in transit between New York and Los Angeles, but it had
been well over a year since she saw him with a vehicle. That was a huge no-no
in LA LA land.

He walked backward and pointed at Ivan. “Did you do the
tattoo?”

Ivan nodded. “Why?”

Without a word her brother saluted and got in the car.

“I better get back to the shop.” She slipped off Ivan’s
jacket and returned it to him.

“Look.” He lifted his chin.

She peeked over. Two hummingbirds flitted around some
flowers. “Why do you love them so much?

“Why don’t we take a ride?”

Mimicking her brother, she saluted him. “We drove separate.”
No matter what, she would always be everyone’s little sister.

Chapter
Five

“Your brother is late.” Ivan strummed his fingers on the
tiny table of the overpriced restaurant in Beverly Hills. “I bet he doesn’t
show.”

For the first time since she left him in Beachwood Canyon,
Emily graced him with a glance. “If he says he’ll be here, he’ll be here.”

“We should have just kept things status quo. All this change
is not good.” At last they were sort of talking. Between working with Billy,
Tamsin, and the accounting office, she managed to avoid him until it was time
to leave. She never even indulged in one of his iced teas. He’d weaseled into
her car for the ride to their dinner with the douche, but she didn’t speak to
him. She only continued to fiddle with the music and talk about how long it had
been since they went somewhere without a drive through. Every word she spoke
smacked of a personal attack.

She shook her head. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I’m in charge of the shop.” He pointed at himself.

“Then act like it.” She squared her jaw.

He reached into his water glass, plucked the lemon wedge out
and tossed it into her drink. “It has nothing to do with the shop or the
lawsuit.”

She glared at the citrus fruit. “Okay, if I’m so dumb that I
don’t know what it is about, tell me. Put all those words of wisdom you impart
to everyone else to good use.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You are frustrated.”

“Oh yeah. That’s your big light bulb moment?”

“We had a good thing going, you saw that last night, in fact
you initiated last night. Now you don’t know how to get it back without looking
like you reversed your stance. I assure you that you have nothing to be
embarrassed about. I say we just forget the last few days and go back to how
things were.” At having let everything out, he took a long gulp of his water
and reclined in the stiff booth. “Just tell me what you want.”

With narrowed eyes, she stared him down and took hold of her
glass.

He gripped the edge of the table, preparing to be drenched
in her lemon water, but for once her brother came in handy.

“There she is.” Dillon approached with some idiot trailing
behind him.

The bile stung the back of Ivan’s throat at Emily’s complete
turn around. With a smile and a giggle, she slid over to allow the intruders
into their space.

“Emily Elliott, James Westland, Attorney at Law.” Dillon
held his hand in front of the man as if he were a model showing off prizes on a
game show.

Seriously? The guy’s name sounded made up for a movie.

“Dillon speaks about you all the time, and now I see why.”
The man shook her hand.

“He does?” She bit her lip. “Really?”

“Absolutely.” He kept hold of her hand.

“Attorney?” Since no one else acknowledged him, Ivan took it
upon himself. “You don’t look like an attorney.” No, the hack Dillon dragged
with him in some mock attempt to fix the situation didn’t look anything like a
lawyer with his slick backed dark hair and golden complexion. In his polo
shirt, blazer and tailored jeans, it was more likely the man stepped off a
beach, rather than out of a courtroom.

Without letting go of Emily, the man shifted his focus to
Ivan. “That’s funny, you look exactly like a tattoo artist.”

“What? Did you find an attorney through the same magazine
where you wrote away to get your real estate license?” Ivan crossed his arms.

“We’ve worked together on some property deals.” Dillon
flashed him a scowl. “The man with the class is Ivan Harlow. He’s running the
tattoo shop while my brother’s out.”

“Ah, the best friend.” James nodded and finally returned
Emily’s hand. “Why don’t we get a bottle of wine and discuss some strategy?”

“Wine?” The word left Emily’s mouth like she’d never heard
it before.

“Yes, wine.” He motioned toward the waitress.

Within a minute, the waitress and a man in a tuxedo
appeared, placed glasses in front of them and opened the sought after bottle.

The man poured a small bit into James’ glass.

James swirled the burgundy liquid in glass and pushed it to
Emily. “Why don’t we find out what the lady thinks?”

Color, almost the same as the wine, crept into her face. “I
don’t know anything about wine.”

Ivan ground his teeth together. What game was the ass
playing?

“I think you are a woman who knows what she likes.” He
inched the glass toward her fingers. “Just take a sip and be honest.”

“All right.” She sat up straight and lifted the glass to her
mouth.

Every part of him prayed she would choke on the foul drink
and spit it right into the guy’s face.

Instead, she swallowed, licked her lips and smiled. “It’s
delicious.”

“Good, that’s from my family’s private stock that we keep
here.” Once more James lifted his finger and the man in the tuxedo proceeded to
pour them all a glass.

“Mr. Westland?” Emily used the voice, the soft one, the one
where he had to lean in to hear her. That voice that belonged only to him.

“James, and yes.” He tapped his glass against hers.

“You said you had a strategy?”

“A business woman, I like that.” He reached into his blazer
pocket and pulled out the summons along with a small notebook and a pen. “It
seems to me the main concern is to avoid any sort of negative publicity for
Permanent Tattoo?”

Emily nodded.

“We have a couple of choices. We can let them take us to
court and fight it, or we can settle, but as part of the settlement, we would
insist on no publicity.” James tapped his pen on his notebook.

She looked down, running her finger along the stem of the
glass.

“Emily do you have any questions?” Dillon asked and leaned
forward.

Ivan fought the urge to punch Dillon in the face. There was
no way would Emily blurt out a decision when it came to Permanent without
turning it over in her mind a million times.

Emily pursed her lips.

James drank down his wine and clicked his pen, trying to
rush her without words.

“Do you understand the options?” Dillon prodded.

“Of course she understands the options.” Ivan hit the table.
“She’s not stupid, in fact, she’s so smart, she’s thinking before spewing an
answer at you.”

She lifted her head and turned to him, cupping her hand over
her mouth.

Fine, she may have shared her private sexy voice with those
goons, but the shielded whisper belonged to him and he moved over to receive
it.

“You’re in charge of the shop. What should we do?” Her
breath tickled him.

“We’re in charge of the shop, tell me your gut,” he mumbled,
trying to abate the shivers traveling down his own body.

“The settlement thing seems good, but where are we going to
get the money? Lindsay will notice missing funds.” She grabbed his forearm.

“I’ll front whatever is needed, including our friend James.”
He turned to her. “We’ll get it, don’t worry. Just tell me what you want to do,
and take your time.”

For a second she paused, stared into his eyes. Her face
broke out in a smile, not one of those excited smiles at drinking some
overpriced grape juice, but one that connected them. “I think the settlement
thing sounds like the best plan.”

“I agree.” He sat back.

“Do you think the settlement option will work?” she asked
the attorney. “Do you think you can get that guy to go away?”

“For the most part, I have found that people want the
money.” James made some notations in his book. “I will draft a letter and we’ll
move fast.”

“Thank you.” Once again, she shook James’ hand, but
underneath the table, she took his hand.

“That’s my job.” James closed his notebook and put it away.
“I should probably get going. I want to get started right away.”

“I’ll go with you to fill in the blanks.” Dillon took a last
sip of his wine. “I promised my sister I’d help.”

“Thanks, Dill,” she whispered as she gave him a quick hug.

“Just focus on the businesses, we’ll take care of the legal
things.” He gave her a pretend punch in the arm. “Later, Ivan.”

Ivan lifted his chin. Along with the businesses, now he had
to watch the big brother, and most importantly, his best friend and unborn
child.

“Enjoy the wine. Just consider it part of my comprehensive
service.” With one last beach boy smile, James left with Dillon tagging along.

Alone with Ivan, she moved his glass toward him. “You never
even tasted the wine.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make a toast or something?” He
lifted the glass.

She mimicked his action. “Then I propose a toast to you for
offering to front the money without even taking a breath.”

“Of course.” He tapped his glass against hers.

They both took a sip.

The acidic liquid hit his throat and he grabbed for his
water, taking a gulp and trying to dilute it. “Oh Lord.”

“You don’t like it?” She betrayed herself with a laugh.

“You poser.” He elbowed her. “You hate it.”

“It’s like drinking cough medicine. I just kept lifting the
glass so it looked like I was having some, I don’t know what I would have done
if they stayed.” She hid her face in his shoulder.

“I guess you’re supposed to develop a taste for it.” He put
his hand on the back of her head.

“I would rather have a beer.” She looked up at him. “Maybe
we should go.”

“For the record, I apologize about last night.” He gave her
hand a squeeze. “Not that it happened, but that you didn’t want it to.”

“There you are.” She touched his chin and turned away.

There was the voice again, but meant for him. “Where did I
go?”

“The Ivan that knows how to say all the right things is
back.” She opened her purse. “I don’t know where you went.”

“I have an idea.” He tapped her back. “Look at me.”

She did as he asked.

“Maybe we should make the most of our time in the hills of
Beverly and order a couple of beers and some dinner, my treat.”

Her focus darted to different parts of his face. “I accept.”

“Excellent.” He raised his hand for the waitress.

~~*~~

“Good morning, partner.” Ivan opened the door for Emily as
they entered Permanent.

“Good Morning.” She walked in ahead of him, trying to avoid
eye contact.

They made their way to the front counter where Ivan let her
put her purse away first.

Ivan opened the mini fridge. “Would you like an iced tea?”

She opened up the appointment book for the day and clipped
Lindsay’s list next to it.

“Em-lee,” Ivan whispered in her ear. “I have pre-sweetened
your favorite drink.”

Though she refused to succumb to his charms, his voice
vibrated down her spinal column and she shuddered. She would not give in to the
way he said her name. After last night’s beer and dinner fest, he gave her a
simple kiss on the cheek and made sure she got in her apartment safely. Yes, he
paused at the door as if waiting for an invitation, but she managed to get
inside without giving in.

“You are really peddling those iced teas.”

“I am only trying to make sure you stay well hydrated.” He opened
a bottle and with much flourish pulled a straw out of the drawer and popped it
in the top.

“I’m not planning on doing anything that would require me to
become dehydrated.” She studied the pages in front of her but the words blurred
together.

“Let’s not rule anything out. Anything can happen at a
tattoo shop.” He moved behind her, peering over her shoulder at the book. “I
have a plan. I think if we do everything together we should get through the day
without incident.”

Since last night, sexy Ivan had reappeared. The man wanted
sex, and in his universe he didn’t understand why things couldn’t continue the
way they were. Until the arrival of her niece or nephew, like it or not, they
would be working together. She needed to make sure she could maintain some sort
of separate life, but her life seemed completely intertwined with his.

“Em-Lee.” He tried again.

Once again her body vibrated, but this time it was her cell
phone. She lifted her phone.

On my way. James.

“He’s texting you?” He plucked her phone out of her hand.
“What the hell?”

“He’s our lawyer. We need him.” She held her hand out for
the phone. “No offense, but we aren’t in the kind of relationship where you get
to look at my device.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He slid his phone
out from his pocket and put it in her palm.

At one time she would have paid good money to have look
though Ivan’s link to the world. She both wanted, and didn’t want, to know who
texted, called, and messaged. “If you’re offering, there’s nothing there to see.”

“Then let’s see what you’re hiding.” As he redirected his
attention to her phone, it rang. “Who’s this?” He turned the screen toward her.

“None of your business.” Thankful for the intrusion, she
glanced at the unfamiliar number. “Let’s work on Lindsay’s list first. I’ll be
right back.”

“You can talk here.”

She pressed the button on her phone. “Hello.” With a smile
in Ivan’s direction she tiptoed into the back.

“Emily Elliott?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yes, can I help you?” She couldn’t help her stomach seizing.
With the baby, the lawsuit ,and Ivan, it felt as if all she did was dodge
anvils falling on her.

“This is Mark Markson.”

Her breath left her and she clutched her phone for fear she
might drop it. “Oh, my God.”

“Do you know who I am?” He chuckled.

She stood absolutely still. There was no way would she allow
any cell phone carrier to ruin the call for her. “Well, last night your black
jacket with the zippers, the one featured in Los Angeles Style magazine, showed
up in my dreams.”

“A woman with taste. One of my assistants swears by your
brother’s work, but even more than that, he said he saw you do some incredible
makeup, right on trend. Tell me what makeup you would do with the black zipper
jacket.”