Page 18 of Trouble for Hire
Out of his peripheral vision he noted Jake, and Paul, another of his artists, leaning against the doorjamb behind him. Apparently, so did the cameraman, because he swung the camera toward them.
“I know you,” the reporter said, snapping his fingers, his eyes narrowed on Erik. Fear punched him in the chest, choking him. “You’re Erik Mann fromRoyalty InkandDowntown Tattoos.” He laughed, moving toward Erik, and with every step his stomach tightened and tightened. “Where have you been? You just disappeared off the face of the earth.” His dark gaze shifted between Erik and Camille. “Wait, wait. Are you two...?” The reporter whipped around to face Camille again, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Does Bradley Luck know about this? Did you break up his engagement and now you’re with Erik Mann?”
“Is that what you do?” Camille’s lip curled in disgust. “If you don’t have a story, you just make one up? I’m going to tell you for the last time. Get. Out.”
“Is Erik the reason your relationship with Bradley Luck ended?”
Fear and revulsion seeped into him, but he still shoved through the swing door and stalked toward the reporter and his cameraman. He didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know Jake and Paul followed him. It was in the flaring of the reporter’s eyes and the quick backward shuffling of the cameraman. But he didn’t drop that lens. No, he would catch every bit of this confrontation.
“Erik, give me just a couple of minutes. I have just one question—”
Erik rounded the two men in several long strides and slapped the door open. With a not-so-gentle tap to the reporter’s shoulder, he shoved him outside the shop, and Jake ushered his buddy out.
“Assholes,” Paul muttered. “My next client isn’t set to arrive for another hour. I think I’ll sit out here and wait for him.” He stared out the window, fixing his green gaze on the pair still standing outside the shop door.
Anger clawed at Erik. Anger and a helplessness he’d vowed never to feel again. It burned underneath his skin, eating him alive and he couldn’t escape it.
“Erik,” Camille murmured, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—Idon’tknow...” That cold reserve evaporated from her face, and her soft mouth turned down at the corners. She spread her hands wide, palms upturned. “I can only guess that Brad or his sister gave them my number and information. I never meant for them to show up here.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, and she didn’t quite hide her flinch at his abrupt tone.
He wanted to soften it, silently told himself to, but the hold of the past gripped him too tight.
“Erik—” she whispered.
“Can you let me know when my one o’clock gets here?” he said, interrupting her.
He didn’t wait for her reply but shoved through the swing door and strode for his office. Trapped. He was both trapped and too exposed out there.
For the first time in three years, he didn’t feel...safe.
HADTIMESLOWEDand no one told her?
For the umpteenth time, Camille glanced at her cell phone. Eight twenty-nine. Forever Ink would be closing in another thirty-one minutes. In other cities, a tattoo shop would remain open much later into the night. But this was Rose Bend. And Forever Ink closed at the same time as every store along Main. Usually, it seemed early to her. But now, when she desperately needed time to fly, it crawled.
Her fingers curled into her palms, fingernails biting into the flesh. The last client had left ten minutes ago, and she’d closed out the POS system. The artists cleaned up their areas; the rock music blaring from the speakers couldn’t drown out their laughter and loud voices.
She glanced at the doorway that led to the hall—the hall Erik had disappeared down hours earlier. Grief and anger merged in her chest like a grimy, muddled mixture. She couldn’t separate one from the other. And it threatened to drown her.
Glancing down at her cell phone, she checked on the time again. Four minutes later.
Oh screw it.
Moments later, she knocked on his office door.
“Yeah? Come in.”
She closed her eyes at the sound of Erik’s voice. Of course, she’d heard the low rumble today after those reporters left. But it hadn’t been directed toward her. He’d been avoiding her. And the time for that to end had arrived. Good or bad, they needed to have this out.
She just feared it would be bad.
There was no way she’d missed his stare before he turned away from her. No way she’d missed the pain and resolve in it.
No. Though she hoped for the good, reality assured her this would be bad.
Lifting her lashes, she grasped the knob, turned it and pushed the door open. Erik looked up from his desk as she entered. And though her heart drummed against her rib cage, she met his sky blue gaze. The drumming sped, grew harder, louder.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked.
