Dead Ink(Karma Series Book 4)(20)

"You know, you were much more agreeable when you first showed up," he  said, as if baffled at her change in demeanor. He was right, she had  been. But she could only paste on a fake smile through so many insults  before it wore off.

"I was much more desperate when I first got here." She rubbed over the same spot again.

"And you aren't now?"

She turned and looked at him, letting her face and eyes do all the talking before she gave him her back again.

"I didn't mean that to be insulting. I just don't understand what changed," he said.

She was glad she wasn't looking at him because the confusion, bordering  on frustration, she heard in his voice made her want to laugh. He really  didn't understand how much he'd insulted her. This guy really had never  been human, and it was showing.                       
       
           



       

She let out a sigh and took pity on him, at least for this one thing.  She turned back toward him. "What's changed is what I can live with."

"I don't get it." He was shaking his head.

"Lars, what I'm saying is I have my pride, too."

She could see she'd finally hit on something he understood and then went  back to washing the window, considering the matter closed.

"You still haven't eaten."

"Thank you but I'm not hungry."

She was startled when an arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the chair she was standing on.

"What are you doing?" she said just as a client stuck his head in the door.

"Get out," Lars barked.

"But I've got an appointment."

"I said get out. Why do you stupid people always have to hear everything  twice?" With his arm still wrapped around her waist, he walked them  both to the door where the person quickly retreated. He clicked the  deadbolt in place.

"Put me down right now, Lars."

He didn't answer but walked them to the office in back where a lunch was  spread out on the desk and an additional chair had been pulled up.

He released her in front of the good chair, his chair, with the really  nice padding, located behind the desk. He sat in the one in front of the  door, which conveniently blocked it.

"What is this?" She looked down and saw all the containers spread out on  the desk. There was Caesar salad, penne vodka, grilled chicken and  several other round foil containers filled to the brim.

"Food?" he said. "Even angry people get hungry." And then he smiled. "It  smells good." He nodded, teasing her as she tried to keep the sour look  on her face.

"Where did this come from?"

"Guy that just left. He's a caterer, or was."

"There's a lot of food here."

"Well, you looked so pissed all day I figured it had to be because you were just that hungry."

She slumped into the chair, realizing her capitulation was getting  close. Why did the food have to smell so good and why did he have to  keep smiling at her like that? He was a dick. Dicks didn't smile.

"So, tell me about why you opened an art gallery?" he said, as he filled  the plate in front of her with some eggplant and shook out a napkin for  her lap.

"You want to hear about my gallery?" she asked, surprised by the  question as she eyed up the fork he'd placed beside her plate, the  smells chipping away at her annoyance.

"It's small talk. That's what humans normally do."

"Oh." She guessed that made sense enough. It was stupid to think he  cared. It's not as if he'd asked her anything, besides stuff about  Malokin or Keith, since she'd been here.

"And I guess I'm just curious."

She looked at him, startled by that admission. He wanted to get to know  her, and after watching the way he handled most people that came in, she  didn't think he normally showed an interest in any of them. Come to  think of it, she'd never heard him making small talk with anyone.

She picked up the fork and felt herself softening a bit. "I guess I  wanted to feel like I was contributing in some way to making the world a  more beautiful place." She took a bite and then found herself lobbing a  question back at him. "How did you get involved with tattooing?"

"It was a cover, at first, after I left the agency. Then I realized I enjoyed it."

She thought about the pieces she'd seen him do since she'd been there. "You're good at your job."

He looked up from his plate of chicken and smiled. "So are you."

She shook her head, knowing a false compliment. "How could you know? I'm not doing it anymore."

"Making the world more beautiful?" He tilted his head and his gaze softened. "Sure you are."

Her eyes dropped to her plate as her insides lit up like it was a grand fireworks show.

Later on that day she'd barely recall what they'd talked about after  that. The only thing that kept going through her mind was that Lars  thought she was beautiful.





Chapter 18





The tension of the previous day was completely gone by the next morning.  Something had changed between Faith and Lars at lunch yesterday, as if  they were friends now. That evening, he'd pulled out a collection of  DVDs and they'd eaten popcorn on the couch while they'd watched movies.  She'd fallen asleep in his bed later on, and Lars had slept on the couch  like always.

As pleasant as the day had been, she'd had trouble sleeping that  evening. She'd found herself waking in the night and looking over to  where Lars slept. A couple of times he'd already been looking her way,  before one of them would break eye contact and pretend to go back to  sleep.                       
       
           



       

Even breakfast this morning had seemed different; easier, somehow. They  walked down to the shop with him teasing her about getting her a bat. He  said he needed her to look scarier if she wanted to have any chance of  kicking the unwanted humans out of the shop. She'd replied that he was  scary enough for the both of them.

She'd worked the morning away organizing this and that and straightening  up when the phone wasn't ringing an just trying to be useful in any way  she could find.

He'd been working on a bird tattoo on a guy's bicep when she stepped  over to watch him do his thing. She'd never done that before, watched  over his shoulder. Somehow she felt like she could today.

He stopped working and looked up at her. She immediately took a step back, thinking she might be crowding him.

He held the gun up to her with a gleam in his eye. "Want to try?"

"Really?" she asked, thinking he had to be kidding.

He nodded.

"On him?" she asked, still disbelieving Lars.

"On me?" the client said.

"Yes. On you," Lars said to the client, losing the soft quality of his voice when he stopped speaking to her.

The guy started shaking his head. "I don't want my tattoo to be all-"

"Shut up. It's not like she can make you any uglier," Lars said. The  client paused for a second and then let out a resigned sigh before he  fell silent.

"Pull up a chair," Lars said, motioning to an extra that sat a few feet away.

She pulled the chair over anxiously. "Lars, I don't know if I should-"

"Sit," he said, a bit more forcefully but still not like he'd spoken to  the client. She did and he grabbed the bottom of the chair and dragged  her right up beside him.

He placed the gun in her hand and showed her how to hold it. "Did you see how I was shading the feathers?"

She nodded, remembering clearly what he'd done.

His finger pointed to a lower spot on the guy's skin that only had an  outline. "Try it here, in this part where I haven't gotten to yet."

She leaned in and the client, who'd been eyeing her up nervously,  cringed and looked away, afraid to see what she'd do to his skin. She  mimicked what Lars had been doing for a few minutes and then leaned back  to appraise her work. She'd actually done a fairly good job.

She looked as Lars, who was reclining in his seat and nodding with a  pleased look on his face. "I knew you could do it," he said softly.

The client turned his head, peeking through squinted eyes. He made a  hmmm noise, as if he was as surprised as she was. "Not bad."

"Keep going," Lars said.

She put the gun down, insisting she'd had enough for the day. She was  positive if she remained that close to Lars she would botch the guy's  tattoo just from distraction.

He didn't argue with her but he stopped smiling when she walked away.



***



That afternoon Lars was on his second client of the day, tattooing an  enormous set of angel wings on the back of a girl who lay topless on his  bench. His new client couldn't seem to remember that she didn't have a  shirt on and kept accidentally flashing him as she leaned up. When she  flashed him for the fifth time in under an hour he finally snapped at  her.