Part 6 (2/2)

She enjoyed working at Tatuaggio part-time and loved that it was less than a block away. The camaraderie and energy of the tattoo shop was so positive, but this place was her future and true pa.s.sion, where she wanted to build her own thing, make her own stamp on the entertainment and business fronts.

She pushed on the front k.n.o.b, and the door swung in without any resistance. The door was unlocked. That's odd. ”Tina? Sindra?”

Her voice echoed through the small building. It was the middle of the day, and no one was in the office. Why had Tina left the door unlocked? So unprofessional. How were they ever going to be taken seriously if they couldn't even lock their own doors?

Hopefully, her a.s.sistant had her schedule somewhere on her computer. Walking to Tina's desk in the small lobby, she punched the pa.s.sword on the keyboard and received an error. After three more attempts, Kevan gave up and huffed down the short hall toward her office. She'd talk to Tina tomorrow about locking her out of her computer, especially since she was probably going to have to let her go anyway.

Kevan would have to wait until she got Tina's pa.s.sword to print out her schedule for the next couple of weeks. She was fairly certain there wasn't anything on the calendar that would prevent her from going on tour with Manix. Other than driving out to see Bowen at the treatment center that afternoon, her schedule looked pretty bleak.

She glanced in the other small office, a creative arts s.p.a.ce for her graphic artist intern, Sindra, and continued past the kitchen-turned-conference room that still served as the place to eat. A lot of scrubbing, some rearranging of shelves and storage s.p.a.ce, and several buckets of paint had turned the inside of the dated bungalow into an elegant and quirky office. Kevan was a firm believer in using color as a design element, especially when money was an issue. And money was always an issue.

At her desk, she threw herself into her chair and sighed loudly. Usually, she felt immediately centered and filled with purpose in her office. It was a s.p.a.ce where her creative juices flowed and her best ideas materialized. A girl with her stellar history of failure-failed family, failed relations.h.i.+ps, failed schooling-had built this beautiful s.p.a.ce with her brains and tenacity. She'd taken the s.h.i.+t life had given her and turned it into something for herself. Even if she did still have to work at the tattoo shop to make ends meet.

Today she felt none of that self-confidence. Icicles of doubt and the acidic bite of fear had settled into her chest and taken root after Mason had snuck out that morning. It was camping out for a while, eating away at the foundation she'd forged, revealing and reigniting the heartache of never being good enough-always the curvy girl with the pretty face. All beauty and no brains, her father's voice echoed in her head.

Now that Mason had provided her with a fighting chance by offering a battle of wits and skill, she had more to worry about. Even if he didn't have some sneaky hidden agenda, he could change his mind about their flimsy deal anytime he wanted to. It would be much easier for him to bring a team in to romance Manix Curse. He was the kind of guy who never lost. He probably didn't even know how. Unlike Kevan, who was practically an expert.

While she couldn't afford losing the money from not working at the tattoo shop, she couldn't afford to lose the opportunity either. Another issue was whether or not she could stick to her condition of hands-off. The man was hot. But Mason had probably lost all interest once he'd seen her pitch sitting on her kitchen counter. Besides, he was a jerk. Yeah, that s.h.i.+p had sailed and sunk.

Boy, she had a s.h.i.+tty track record with men, starting with the football captain in high school, then various tattoo artists and musicians. The latest, a little over a year ago, had been Ethan. She could almost hear her dad's voice chiding her on her pathetic first attempt at a serious relations.h.i.+p, laughing at her public humiliation as the ever-present cloud of cigarette smoke engulfed him and he sloppily chugged on a beer. She'd ignored the warning signs, including her lukewarm reactions to Ethan's s.e.xual prowess, and had kept plodding along, trying to make it work.

The mind-numbing pain Kevan had felt when she'd met Ethan's lovely little fiancee had seemed debilitating at the time. Sweet Jessica was everything you'd expect a professor's fiancee to be-smart, pretty, quiet, polite. Nothing like Kevan. The shock on his face when Kevan had run into them at the movies had been priceless. Almost enough to dilute the agony of betrayal. He was the reason she'd sworn off men, especially Suits.

Instead, she'd taken her anger and worked her a.s.s off to finally finish her bachelor's degree, while working as a pinup model for a local retro clothing designer and running the tattoo parlor Tatuaggio. She had taken her s.h.i.+ny new certificate, applied for and received a small business loan from her local credit union, and hung out her s.h.i.+ngle for business while still holding down another job. But her loan was coming due, and she had major cash-flow issues. Then there was Bowen.

Looking around the office she loved so much, her eyes fell on a picture of her, Tony, and Bowen at a pool party last year. Their tattooed arms were wrapped around her shoulders as she smiled up at her big brother with affection. Bowen had his head thrown back in laughter. Bowen on a good day. Tony Martelli, the owner of Tatuaggio, and all the employees had thrown her a surprise party in celebration of her new business. They were the closest thing to a real family she and Bowen had had since their mom died.

The memory filled her with warmth and sadness, and tears began to well in the corners of her eyes. Minutes after the picture was taken, Bowen and Nathan had tossed her in the pool. She'd been furious about her ruined hair and makeup and her soaking dress for all of two minutes. Then she'd looked at their happy, laughing faces, and her heart had filled with overwhelming love for the family she and Bowen had built themselves from the ashes of their ruined childhood.

Kevan jumped when the front door slammed.

”h.e.l.lo?” Tina's voice pierced the otherwise quiet building. ”Kevan?”

”Back here,” she yelled, her gut swirling with acid. She was sick of Tina's bulls.h.i.+t but still didn't relish the idea of letting her go. Maybe she should wait until after the tour.

A few seconds later, Tina peeked her flushed face into the room. ”So, how'd the meeting go?”

”The presentation went well.” She frowned. ”Even though half the slides were missing.”

”Oh no. I must have copied the wrong one. Maybe you should be responsible for your own files.” Tina had the grace to appear mildly apologetic, but as usual, made it Kevan's fault. ”But the meeting went okay?”

”Sure.” If you consider a total nightmare okay. ”Where were you?”

Tina looked down at the mail in her hand and shuffled through the envelopes. ”I went to see my grandma. She's sick.” She looked up at Kevan and narrowed her eyes. ”So if everything went great, why do you look like your dog died?”

”Mason Dillon, GEM's CEO, was there.”

”And...” Tina tapped the stack of mail she was holding against her leg.

Kevan wasn't in the mood to rehash the meeting or her confrontation with Mason, so she cut to the chase. ”They want me to go on tour with them.”

”Cool. Why don't you sound excited?” She leaned her short, narrow body against the doorframe, her mile-high stilettos crossed at her ankles.

”They invited him, too. They want a marketing cage fight between the two of us. Old school versus new school. Very heavy metal.” Kevan snorted.

Tina rolled her eyes. ”And that's a problem? If you can't compete in the brains department, you could always screw him.”

Kevan's pulse pounded in her ears, and her jaw nearly dropped. Before she could respond, Tina continued like she hadn't just verbally slapped Kevan. ”Oh chillax, I was just kidding. Have you considered this might be a gift? At least it's not the Argyle douchebags. You know, you might learn something from him. Even steal some tricks from his fancy marketing bag.”

Kevan crossed her arms on the desk as she counted to five before speaking. ”I am not interested in stealing anything from his bag of tricks.” Except maybe another kiss. Whoa, where had that come from? She couldn't let those kinds of thoughts sneak up, especially with Tina nosing around in her personal business. ”And teaming up with them is not going to happen. Besides, I can't afford to leave Jolt for two weeks to go on the road with a metal band and some arrogant business guy. I need to be here, running this business.”

Tina's grin returned. ”You slept with him, didn't you?”

”Who?” Kevan asked, looking away and hoping Tina couldn't see the truth on her face.

”Dillon. GEM's CEO. You screwed him didn't you?”

Kevan sighed and looked back at Tina. ”We are not talking about my s.e.x life. I'm talking about Jolt.”

”I freakin' knew it. But whatever. So if it isn't because you screwed him, it's because of the business?” Tina taunted, wrinkling her nose and curling her lips. ”News flash, sweetie. We don't have any business. We have bills, not clients. A couple of bands, a freak-show entertainer, and a tattoo shop are not enough to keep us going. We'll be closed in a month if you don't do something now.” She took the stack of bills she held in her hand and tossed it on Kevan's desk.

Kevan held her breath for a moment. Tina's blunt words had hit their mark. It hurt, but it was true.

Before she could respond, Tina said, ”I don't mean to be harsh, but what happens to me? And Sindra? And your brother-”

”Stop,” Kevan ordered, keeping her voice even. She stood and stepped around her desk to stand in front of Tina. ”Look, seeing as I don't know whether or not I'm going to be able to sign Manix, maybe it's best if you start looking for something else.”

Tina's mouth dropped open, and she pulled back. ”Wait. You're f.u.c.king firing me?” She stared in disbelief. ”After everything I've done for you?”

”No. I'm letting you go. You're right. I'm out of money. This tour is a last-ditch thing, and who knows what's going to happen.” Kevan felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest when she admitted her possible failure aloud.

”Whatever,” Tina practically spat. ”Good luck, princess. I hope you know what you're doing.” Tina turned to walk away. ”I'm beat and going home.”

”I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” Kevan said. As Tina stomped down the hall, Kevan remembered the locked computer. ”Hey, you changed the pa.s.sword on your computer. Make sure you email it to me.”

The building shook as the front door slammed shut. Tina had every right to be p.i.s.sed, resentful-whatever she was-but Kevan was almost to the point of not giving a s.h.i.+t either way. The constant battle with Tina had long begun to overshadow any value she'd once had as an employee, let alone as a quote, unquote friend.

Her thoughts drifted to Bowen. Regardless of what happened with Jolt, Kevan couldn't let her brother down. Until the last year, when his addictions had gotten out of control, he'd always been there for her. Like when their mother had died from breast cancer. Or when their dad had gone off the deep end and buried his grief in a bottle. A teenage Bowen had done his best to keep their abusive father from dragging them down into his abyss.

Her phone alarm sounded through the quiet office, snapping her attention back to the present. Time to stop wallowing in her own self-indulgent misery and drive out to see Bowen at New Beginnings. A noxious blend of emotions had been boiling in her gut all week. She was terrified that the man who used to be her brother would be different, and even more terrified that he hadn't changed at all.

As she locked the front door and turned to her car, she marveled at how easily she rolled from one cl.u.s.terf.u.c.k to another. Like a champ.

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