Temporary (Indelibly Marked #2) (15 page)

Chapter
Thirteen

“I need to place an order for a cake.” Emily leaned on the
counter of Kolowski’s bakery. Since they moved to Hollywood, every cake,
cookie, or special loaf of bread was procured here.

She glanced at her phone. Nothing. Not that she knew who she
wanted to call her. She needed to keep moving and not stop until everything was
finished or they had an answer. Her universe seemed to be in limbo waiting for
an outcome to anything.

The slight trembling she had felt all day amplified and she
clutched the edge of the counter to steady herself.

Mr. Kolowski trundled over and handed her the book. “What is
the grand occasion?”

“Shane and Lindsay’s baby.” Heat surrounded her. She might
as well be standing in one of Mr. Kolowski’s ovens. “Just something small.” She
thought they could have a little private celebration before baby came and then
a big shower after.

“Ahh. That’s very good news. Even better than the wedding cake.”
He laughed and flipped to one of the pages in the cake book. “I have something
in mind.”

She blinked to bring the picture into focus, for one moment
remembering the multi-tiered cake Mr. Kolowski created for her brother and
sister-in-law. Though they all rushed to Vegas to get married and had a cake
there, Shane insisted they come back and have a huge reception, not wanting to
Lindsay to miss a thing. Double chocolate and triple vanilla made for quadruple
the delicious calories.

If Ivan took her to City Hall and hid the marriage
certificate she would have accepted it. She pressed her palm to her forehead.
All day a strange, weak, dizzy sensations had followed her.

Mr. Kolowski put his hand over hers. “What’s the matter?”

With a shake of her head she took a big breath and glanced
down at the cake in the shape of a stork. “It’s perfect.” She gave Mr. Kolowski
the details and reached into her bag for her credit card. Her fingers brushed
against her to do list.

“Why don’t you sit and let’s do a little sampling of some
flavors?”

“I can’t.” The thought of putting anything in her mouth
caused her stomach to constrict in protest. She handed him her card and
gathered the courage to look at the list.

Mr. Kolowski took the card and walked away.

Since leaving the shop she’d picked up her laundry, stopped
by the tattoo supply shop, and went by the craft store for the yarn she wanted
to make the baby a blanket. Maybe she and Ivan could go to dinner before the
evening rush, but nothing sounded appetizing to her.

Tempted to press her cheek to the cold glass of the display
case, she leaned down. Her phone rang. In an instant she shot up, tensed and
without even looking at the caller ID, answered.

“Hello?” She shut her eyes praying for James’ call.

“How’s my guru?” Mark chuckled into the phone.

She gave in, slid down the case, and pressed her body to the
glass. “A little warm.”

“Warm! Woman you are on fire!”

Well, at least he liked her work. The floor seemed to ripple
under her feet and she shut her eyes. “You’re not kidding.” Sweat seemed to
pour down her forehead.

“Here’s something to picture.” He paused, no doubt for
effect. Something spectacular. “Pencil skirts, leather button down shirts with
cuffs and collars, hair high on the head, glasses, stilettos and spikes.”

“A naughty 1960s secretary who’s into bondage?” Now she was
hallucinating.

“I think you may come to be one of my muses.” He growled
into the phone. “I have a photo shoot next week. I’ll send some pictures and
the details.”

“Mark.” She opened her eyes, the white of the bakery glaring
at her like an upset mother.

“Show me some sketches as soon as possible. Also, I sent a
little present to your home for your gilded goddess.”

The beep in her ear told her he hung up. With the phone
already in her hand she dialed the one person she needed to hear from, and for
the first time it wasn’t Ivan or one of her siblings.

“This is James.”

“It’s Emily.”

“I knew from the caller ID.” He laughed.

She swallowed, wanting him to have the same talent Ivan
possessed where he could give the answers without her having to ask the
questions. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Somehow she needed to
even out karma.

“I understand. Don’t give it another thought.”

She forced out a laugh and shook her head. “James?”

“You don’t sound well, are you all right?” His voice
lowered.

“I’m not the one we should be concerned about.” She forced
herself to stand. “Is he out of the hospital yet?”

“His attorney wasn’t in when I called, I’m waiting to hear
back.”

All she wanted was for the man to be okay, for the ball of
anxiety to leave her body. “Thanks, I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Emily?”

She waited for James to continue.

“No matter what, you’re never a bother.”

She appreciated the lie. “Thank you.”

“I’ll call as soon as I hear anything. We can’t come off as
being scared, okay?”

Scared, sick, sad, those emotions seemed to define her life.
“I have to go.”

“Do you want to get some coffee? Do you want me to call
Ivan?”

“No I’ll be fine.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose and
hit end.

With a furrowed brow, Mr. Kolowski gave her the card,
receipt and a little white bag. “Here are some of the cookies you love.”

She painted a smile on her face and shoved everything into
her bag. If she took one bite of anything she would definitely hurl. “Thanks.”
She rushed out to her car and studied her list once more.

Again, her phone rang.

With this call she caught a glimpse of the caller ID. “Hey.”

“Where are you?” Ivan sounded like a parent following up one
minute past curfew.

“Where are you?” She shot the question right back to him,
started the car and blasted the air conditioning.

“At the apartment waiting for you.”

“Was I supposed to be at the apartment?” It wasn’t on her
list. “I have a few more things I have to do.”

“Emily, I think you need to come home.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” The tears simply happened and she
couldn’t stop them. They weren’t little rolling droplets down her cheeks, but a
full-on cry tears, complete with silent shaking and gasping for air.

“Emily, where are you!”

“Ivan, is everything okay?” She put the phone on speaker,
wiped her eyes and backed out of the parking lot.

“No, everything is not okay. I don’t know where you are, and
you’re crying and driving!”

“I’m not talking about me.” She blinked to focus and turned
onto the main street. Everything seemed muddled, wavy, as if she were observing
the world through one of those trick mirrors in a funhouse.

“I
am
talking about you.” He paused. “I don’t care
what you have to do, we’ll do it together. Tell me where you are and I’ll come
get you.”

“I’m fine.” An overwhelming wave of exhaustion enveloped
her. She wanted to lie down. “I still have things to do.”

“Em, come home, please.”

Even in her haze she didn’t skip the fact he called his
place home. Not his home, simply home. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.” She
hit end and stared ahead. When did his place turn into home?

The honking of a horn jolted her and she slammed on her
brakes, her heart thumping loud enough to be heard over every other noise. “Oh,
God!”

Her car stopped in the middle of the intersection and a
truck made its way around her, the driver flipping her off.

Though her body shook, she put her hands at ten and two and
somehow managed to make it to the next block and the beauty supply store.

Mark needed new looks. Bondage meets secretary. Unless the
models wanted raccoon eyes and ratted hair, she had nothing. Actually she
wasn’t quite sure why she went there, she had no plan, no look in mind,
nothing.

“I have to go home.” She wanted curl up on a couch. “My
home.”

Nothing felt familiar and she leaned back in her seat spying
Tallulah, one of her favorite vintage signs in shape of a 1950s waitress. As if
she willed herself there, she was only a few blocks away from Ivan and his
couch; the really comfy couch, almost as cushy as his bed.

“What’s wrong with me?” Her stomach burned, begging her to
throw in the towel and headed for home, Ivan’s home, her home, she didn’t even
know or care.

At last she turned onto Ivan’s street. The world parked
here. She found a spot at the curb but couldn’t wedge her car in the space. She
already cried, she may as well be needy, and lifted her phone and dialed.

“Emily.” Ivan’s tone was curt, rigid, holding back a yell.

“I can’t parallel park.” Again, her eyes clouded with tears.
For some strange reason his apartment seemed miles and miles away.

“Don’t move.”

The phone went dead, but in only a few seconds, he rushed
down the stairs and over to her car, indicating for her to roll her window
down.

The effort it took for her to crank her window down zapped
away the rest of her energy. “Ivan.” She sort of wanted him to pick her up and
carry her upstairs. “I can’t parallel park.”

“I know it. No girl can.” He opened the door and let her get
out. “I was just getting ready to send out a search party.”

She slid out of the car. The ground beneath her seemed to
move as if someone had repaved the street and the asphalt hadn’t set yet. The
heat returned, her arms tingled, her legs wanted to give way and she braced
herself on her knees.

Ivan parked the car. “Emily?” He slammed the door.

Her heart didn’t as much pound as it stuttered. She inhaled
to speak and lifted her head, catching sight of his apartment.

Damn everything, his place was home.

Too exhausted to fight with herself, with attorneys, and
everyone else, the world finally did her a favor and swallowed her up.

~~*~~

“She’s going to be okay.” Dr. Wilcox patted Ivan’s shoulder.
The man had been their go-to doc since he sauntered into Permanent and received
his first tattoo. “It’s exhaustion, but she’s going to be fine. I gave her a
little something to make sure she rests. Don’t make me give it to you, too.”

Ivan didn’t budge from the foot of the bed.

“Hey, you okay?” The good doctor waved his hand in front of
Ivan’s face.

At the knock at the door, he finally moved.

A quick glance at the clock told him he had stared at Emily
for twenty minutes.

The strange thing about time was though it traveled at the
same rate for everyone on the planet, but some seconds seemed to whirl by in
less than an instant, while others lasted forever.

In the moment Emily collapsed, the universe only allotted
him a flash, a brief blink that allowed for pure reaction. In nothing short of
a miracle, he managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

The next hour seemed to take several days, maybe decades.
Once he brought her upstairs and got her in bed, he did what any
self-respecting guy did. He panicked. After he made sure she responded to him,
he called Dr. Wilcox who came right away.

What if he hadn’t been right there when she collapsed? What
if she passed out in her car while driving? What if he went with his mother the
day she died?

What-ifs created sad, unstable stepping stones in the road
of life. For the most part he tried to live with what is, rather than the what-ifs
or what-could-bes.

Something had to give, starting with Emily not suffering
from exhaustion and worry, so after calling the doctor, he called the shop.

Tamsin wasn’t there, and his only other choice knocked at
his door.

“I’ll be right back.” He gave Emily’s foot a quick squeeze
and he walked through his apartment opening the door to Billy.

“Call me if you need anything.” With his doctor bag in hand,
Darius Wilcox shimmied around him and past Billy. “You’re one of the only
people I would make a house call for.”

“Thank you.” He kept his focus on Billy but lifted his chin
at the doctor. “What do I owe you?”

“A tattoo.” Darius lifted his thumb. “Later.”

Billy saluted and without invitation walked inside, nodding
as looked around.

Ivan unclenched his fist and shut the door. “Come on in.”

“How’s Emily?” Billy crossed his arms, sauntering across the
room and studying the pictures on the wall.

“Exhausted and stressed, thanks to you.” He really didn’t
want the man near his things or Emily.

“I didn’t infect that guy.” Billy pointed at a picture of
Emily and nodded, then continued his trek, taking in the television and the
kitchen.

“That’s why he’s suing us, and that’s why he’s in and out of
the hospital. That’s why my…Emily is practically lying unconscious in my bed.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Billy peeked in the kitchen.

“Are you done with your tour?”

“You have a nice place.” Billy faced him. “Not what I
expected.”

At first he opened his mouth to ask what Billy expected, but
realized he didn’t care. Desperation alone made the unfortunate visit necessary
in the first place. “I need your help.” His throat stung at his words.

“That’s why I’m here.” He leaned back against the counter.

Not sure what he meant, Ivan continued. “Emily needs to
rest. I’ll come by in the afternoon. Can you open up in the morning and make
sure the place doesn’t burn down or get another lawsuit in the course of a few
hours?” He pulled the keys to the shop out of his pocket.

“Interesting.” Billy pressed his palms together, tenting his
fingers under his chin.

“What the hell does that mean?” It took every bit of
strength not to pummel the man and throw him out like garbage.

“For the man who can barely speak two sentences to me
without gritting his teeth, the same one who thinks I am responsible for the
bogus lawsuit, you sure are fast to hand me the keys your best friend’s
business.”