Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(49)

“I said almost, Dean. And almost isn’t enough for me to deal with a penis.”

Frankie held out a hand to me, giving me a very warm look. “Danika. Tristan told me about you. Nice to meet you. I’m Frankie.”

I shook her hand, trying to smile, though I still wanted to punch Dean in the face. “Nice to meet you. Jared was just telling me about your reality show.”

She wiggled her brows at me, her smile self-deprecating. “Hopefully it doesn’t bomb.”

“I’m sure it won’t,” I reassured her. “Especially if it’s at the Cavendish Casino. That place is hot right now.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. You’ve probably seen some of my work. I’ve done almost all of the ink on Tristan’s back, and his arms. And I’ve done quite a bit of Jared’s, too. Whenever he’s done having a private chat with Dean, I’ll show you.”

I glanced over to where the two men had been, and saw that they’d moved several feet away, and were speaking quietly to each other.

“Jared’s great, but Dean can be a pain,” Frankie said, her voice pitched low.

I nodded. I thought that was putting it nicely.

“So do you have any ink?”

I shook my head, reading from her smile where she was going with the question.

“Is there anything you really want? I’d be happy to help you make all of your tattoo dreams come true.”

I chewed on my lip. I had been thinking about that, especially recently. Something about staring at Tristan’s tattoos way too often had made me start to want my own. “I’ve toyed with the idea of getting a little cherry blossom branch on my back.”

Her grin widened. She clearly sensed a victory. “We’ll have to work on that. I’ll show you some of my designs that will blow your mind. You don’t even have to let my camera crew tape it, though I’d love it if you did.”

I blanched. “TV? I don’t know…”

“It’s not as bad as all that. Just think about it.”

My eyes narrowed on her. “You do this all the time, don’t you?”

She shrugged, a very engaging twinkle in her eye. “I love putting my mark on beautiful people. Call it a personal quirk.”

“Tristan’s ink is the best I’ve seen.”

“Why thank you. Have you seen Jared’s?”

“I haven’t gotten a close look at any of it.”

“But you have gotten a close look at Tristan’s? Interesting…”

I shrugged, my mouth twisting wryly. “I don’t know if interesting is the word. Frustrating would be more apt.”

She laughed. She started to say something, but it was interrupted by some woman behind me loudly calling her name.

I turned to see a blonde woman descending on us. She was Vegas pretty, with hair bleached platinum blonde, a face that reminded me a bit of a Bratz doll, and bombshell curves that no one could have mistaken for natural. Still, she filled out her pink bikini in a way that would have made any straight guy look twice.

Frankie smiled at the woman, but there was a noticeable chill in her eye that hadn’t been there before.

“Natalie,” Frankie said. “Long time no see. What are you doing here?”

She pronounced the Natalie strangely, the a’s made into ah’s. I guessed that Natalie was one of those women that tried to make a pretty normal name sound exotic, but it just came out sounding a little stupid.

“Frankie, I can’t tell you how I excited I was when I heard you were getting your own show! I’ve been dying to talk to you!”

“Oh yeah?” Frankie asked, disinterest practically pouring off her in waves.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to get a tattoo for ages.”

“Really?” Frankie was clearly skeptical.

“And I think it would be great for my career to have it done on your show.”

“Career?” Frankie asked.

“I’ve gotten into modeling,” Natalie said smugly.

Only in Vegas, I thought. Natalie was a good three inches shorter than me, which made her unlikely model material, no matter how pretty she was.

“I take it you and Howard didn’t work out.”

Natalie shrugged. “We’re still seeing each other. Nothing exclusive anymore, but he’s been good to me, and I won’t forget it.”

“Sure, yeah.” It was so obvious to me that Frankie couldn’t stand the woman, but Natalie seemed oblivious to it.

Natalie’s gaze sharpened on something behind Frankie, and I’d have sworn it turned predatory. “Is that Jared Vega?” she asked softly.

Frankie didn’t bother to hide her eye roll. “It is.”

“Is Tristan around? Those two are usually inseparable.”

Frankie’s smile was just a flash of teeth. “Nope.”

“Damn. I needed to talk to him.”

“You could always call him,” Frankie offered.

Natalie flushed. “I don’t have his number. Could I get it from you?”

“Sorry. Can’t do that. I’ll let him know you wanted to talk to him, if you want.”

“Fine,” Natalie said, her tone dismissive, then abruptly walked away.

“That was…interesting,” I said, wondering what to make of the blonde woman. She hadn’t been openly rude, just strange.