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Hearing those words out loud feels like a shock. It makes me want to say yes, and fuck the consequences. But the part of me that’s always been cautious manages to hold back.
I let out a breath, leaning against the back wall of the shop. Outside, it smells like Thai food, the lingering hints of cigarette smoke from the parking lot, and exhaust from cars passing by. It’s not the most pleasant mix, but it’s comforting in an odd way. This is my world. My safe place. And Dante doesn’t fit in here. I remind myself of that before the sound of his voice can make my thoughts run away with themselves again.
“I appreciate that. I really do. But I can’t just poach a client from my boss. I’d get in trouble for telling you yes.”
“You’re telling me that your boss would prefer I not finish the piece with your shop altogether?” Dante sounds incredulous, and I feel my heart momentarily stutter in my chest. I hadn’t considered that he might opt to have someone else finish the tattoo if I refused whoisn’tRico—from another shop.
I can hardly be blamed for doing good work, but somehow, I feel like Rico will find a way to make it my fault anyway.
“Rico’s work is every bit as good as mine. Better,” I add quickly. “You won’t regret having him finish it. I just can’t take over what should have been his client all along.”
“You’re not ‘poaching’ me, Emma.” Dante lets out a sharp breath, as if this conversation is frustrating him, too.
Fine,I think bitterly.You’re not the one who stands to lose your job.
“I’m saying I want you to do the work,” Dante continues. “I’ll tell Rico that myself. I’d prefer to have the same artist work on it from start to finish, and I think that’s perfectly reasonable. If he’d been there for the first session, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. He has no one to blame but himself.”
It’s hard to argue with anything that he’s saying, because he’s right. Rico was the one who passed the appointment on to me in the first place. Wanting to have only one artist work on your piece from start to finish is an entirely reasonable request. Nothing that he’s asking for is even out of line. And if the circumstances were at all different, I’d be jumping for joy to have this opportunity.
Unfortunately, I know it’s not possible. My attraction to Dante complicates things further, but I’d even try to work around that if I thought there was any chance that this wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass professionally.
But that’s not the case.
“I get what you’re saying,” I tell Dante quietly, and I do. I really, really do. “But it doesn’t matter. Rico will be pissed at me for taking you on, even if that’s what you want. You’re going to need to stick with him. I can’t afford to lose my job.”
“You’ll be paid well. Whatever your rates normally are, I’ll pay what Rico would have charged, plus tips.” Dante’s tone is sharp, business-like—the voice of a man accustomed to negotiating and having deals go his way. “You’re still going to tell me no?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean—” I take a deep breath, hating everything about being put in this position. “I’m sorry, Dante. But my answer stands. I’m flattered that you want me to finish it, and I appreciate the offer, but one well-paying client won’t make up for what I stand to lose if I make Rico angry.”
“Emma—”
He says it at the same time that Brendan shouts my name from inside the shop, momentarily drowning Dante out. “Emma!I need you in here—”
“I have to go,” I tell Dante abruptly. “Again, I’m sorry. Talk to Rico about whatever it is you decide to do.”
And then, before he can say another word or I can change my mind, I hang up the
phone.
6
DANTE
Ihaven’t been able to get Emma out of my head since the moment she walked out of my penthouse.
Normally, after a long day of handling my usual business meetings and the tedium of running a financial empire, I’d be either meeting my brother Lorenzo for drinks, going out to a bar with a friend, or calling one of the many girls in my phone who would happily come over in a flash.
But that’s notwhat I want. And I don’t know how to get what Idowant out of my system.
It’shard to admit to myself that what I really want isn’t a way to get her out of my head—it’s an excuse to talk to her. Toseeher again. There’s no real future in that, but there’s never been a future with any of the women I’ve slept with or pseudo-dated for any length of time. There’s no reason why this needs to be different.
I’m on my second glass of wine, a takeout burger and truffle fries from the gourmet place two blocks down in front of me at the bar counter in my penthouse, when the solution occurs to me.
I can’t get my phone out fast enough. What I have planned to tell her isn’t even a lie—I would rather have Emma come back and continue to work on my back piece instead of Rico. I haven’t even met the man, but everything I’ve heard via my brief conversation with Emma has done nothing to make me like him. I’m not in any hurry to spend hours with him here in my penthouse, even if he’s a world-class tattoo artist. I’ve gotten plenty of ink, and Emma’s talents are second to none. I can’t imagine that he’s that much better than she is.
I think he just doesn’t want to give her space to flourish.
I’ll be the one to do that, then.It’s a startling thought. While I’ve never resented the fact that the women I date have often used me as a ladder—it’s a fair exchange, in my opinion…good sex for the advantages I can provide—I’ve never volunteered to help someone scale upwards, either. But I know I could help Emma utilize her potential. I could make sure she ends up with the kind of connections that could lead to clients coming toherfor private sessions, instead of Rico Axton.
