Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(76)

Danika laughed, and it was a bitter sound. “Please. Don’t make me laugh. That man isn’t capable of it. Now drop it, Frankie, before I leave.”

Frankie threw up her hands in defeat, her mouth twisting. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Consider it dropped.”

Food arrived, and the two women pretended like the whole awkward interaction had never happened.

I followed suit, though I was beyond curious about whatever had happened between Danika and Tristan.





[page]CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Mr. Incensed





We gorged ourselves on cheese enchiladas and chiles rellenos. I was over-stuffed when I finished, but I’d found my new favorite restaurant for comfort food.

The meal went smoothly after their little confrontation, and the women laughed and joked like old friends. We were finishing our meal when Frankie looked at me with a wicked smile, rubbing her hands together.

“How do you feel about branding James onto your body? Just something little. He did it for you. Don’t you want to return the favor?”

I should’ve known that was what she’d been plotting. She was a tattoo artist, after all. I considered her idea, not dismissing it out of hand. I was finding new ways to surprise myself daily. “What did you have in mind?” I asked her warily.

She waved Danika out of her seat. “May I borrow your back for a moment, Danika?” she asked cheerfully.

Danika just stood up and turned around as though they did this every day.

Frankie circled a small spot on the other woman’s shoulder blade. “James. Right here. Identical size, color and style as the Bianca on his chest. What do you think?”

I was shocked to find myself warming to the idea. I knew that James had done something so extreme to prove something to me, the same thing that he seemed to need me to prove to him. I took a deep breath. “The same size as his?” I asked.

Frankie whooped, sensing victory. “Yes, but on your back. I know James well enough to know that he wouldn’t like a boob tat. Let’s do this!”

Frankie had to have a brief but firm conversation with the camera crew and producer that taped her reality show. They were not going to tape this tattoo.

Blake insisted on searching the place, but I was surprised when she didn’t try to butt in when she saw what we were obviously doing. She just stood outside of the curtained area and waited for me.

In a shockingly short time I found myself lying on my stomach on Frankie’s table, my silk blouse pulled up over my shoulder, my bra unclasped. The position pushed hard on my newly pierced nipples, but I didn’t complain. I imagined that I wouldn’t even feel that pain when she started in with the needle.

“James is going to kill me,” Frankie muttered as she traced the pattern onto my back. “He’ll be mad at me for a while just for seeing and touching this much of your skin.”

Danika was giggling as she watched, a clear accessory to the crime.

“Really?” I asked Frankie, not sure if she was serious.

“Oh yeah.”

“Why?”

“He’s got you collared, Bianca. That’s some real serious shit for him. He’s possessive as all hell about every inch of you.”

“But it’s for a tattoo. I know he’ll get testy about that at first, but to get possessive about you touching my shoulder blade just seems so unreasonable.”

She laughed. “If you think that there’s anything reasonable about a Dom, you’ve been misinformed, my friend. He’s going to be incensed about this, but he’ll get over it, and I know that eventually he’ll love having his name on you.”

I sighed, thinking that she was probably right.

The tattoo was a shorter process than I thought it would be, though it was a small tattoo.

It stung, but the pain wasn’t at all as bad as I’d heard. After she’d worked on the area for just a few minutes, it all became one sort of throbbing sting, and by the end, I even liked the feeling. I understood a bit why some of my friends thought that tattoos were addictive.

Frankie showed me when she’d finished, and I felt a little thrill when I saw his name on my skin. I could get used to this, I thought. Which was good, because it was permanent.

She spread gel on the area and covered it with a small plastic film.

“Go shirtless as much as you can, at home. Let it air out. A consolation prize for James, I guess. You do have a fabulous rack.”

I sent her a look. She’d never seen my rack, but oh well, I’d take it as a compliment.

She grabbed her tiny purse, grinning at us. “I’m getting the hell outta Dodge. He won’t want to see me for a few days, so I’m going to make myself scarce. I’ll see you at the red carpet event for my show.”

“Coward!” Danika yelled at her as she took off in a hurry.

Danika walked me through the casino and to the executive offices, Blake and Henry trailing us silently. I had to stop and stare when we passed by one of the hotel’s auditoriums. It had a giant poster displayed of what the theatre featured, which was a long line of showgirls, kicking their legs high in the air, showing off all of their assets, and right smack in the middle of the picture, his arm around two of the showgirls, was a grinning James.

Danika shook her head when she saw it. “If it makes you feel any better, that was taken years ago.”