Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle (89 page)

I saw him tense up. For a moment I thought he wasn't going to answer me, but I was proven wrong. “It was her idea. She wanted to help me win you back,” he said.

“Win me back?”

“I don't know, that girl watches too many romantic comedies so she laps up all of this bullshit. She thought if she wore one of your dresses on the red carpet you might be more amenable, you know?” he said.

“She doesn't even know what my dresses look like. She must really like you if she was willing to take that risk to help you out,” I said, feeling a little envious. There was no way that a normal girl
like me could compete with Chrissy Jones. No way in hell. As far as I knew, she was married but if that didn't work out she only had to click her fingers and Dane would be fucking her. At least, that's what I figured.

He nodded.

“She does,” he said, “But she wouldn't take that kind of risk. That stuff is really important for an actress. A bad dress can ruin your reputation like that. No, I showed her some of the designs you drew out and she was really impressed.

I felt my face turning red. Those 'designs' he'd spoken of had only been doodles that I'd done for fun while he watched TV. They weren't meant to be seen by anyone, much less my favorite movie star. “You showed her that shit? Oh god, you showed Chrissy Jones those drawings? Kill me. Jesus, kill me before I die of embarrassment,” I said.

“Why are you embarrassed? I told you, she liked them. She loved them, actually. Especially the navy one with the illusion top. I don't know what that means, but that was what she called it,” he said, “You know it would be your big break if she wore one of your gowns to a red carpet event, right? Everyone wants to know who Chrissy is wearing.”

“I know, I'm not an idiot,” I said. There was a knot in my stomach.

“I bet she'd still wear it if I asked her. If you wanna grab my cell from the glove compartment you can give her a call yourself,” he said encouragingly. This was too much. I couldn't handle this. I folded my arms and shook my head.

“That's all right,” I said. Dane's mouth open in surprise. I didn't blame him for being surprised at me. Jesus, I was surprised at me. I'd been offered my big break on a silver platter and I was turning it down. I'd been so rude to Chrissy on the phone that I couldn't stand the idea of talking to her again. Not to mention the other issue that was pressing at my nerves, “I think I'll pass.”

“You'll pass? Savannah, do you understand how big this is?” he said. I nodded.

“I do, and I'm very thankful for the opportunity. But I have to turn it down,” I said, “It's just not right.”

“Not right? Why are you talking like you're a member of some weird made up religion?” he asked, “Are you on crack or something? I thought you were dying for this kind of exposure.”

“I was. I am,” I said, “I don't expect you to understand.”

“Try me,” he snapped. That was when I knew I had no choice but to tell the truth. As hard as it was, he would have to hear it from me. It was the only way that I could stop my rejection of the offer from seeming completely rude and unjust. I sighed.

“I don't want to be the girl who only gets a big break because she's sucking the right guy's dick, you know?” I said, “It's not fair. I wouldn't have gotten it on my own merits and I would always know that.”

To my surprise, Dane took the next opportunity to pull the car over and park. Before I could say anything he turned to me.

“Jesus Savannah, I'm crazy about you but you can be a fucking idiot sometimes,” he said. How charming. Being called an idiot was definitely in the top ten romantic gestures all girls wanted to experience in their lifetimes.

“Thanks,” I said, “Ditto.”

“No, listen. I'm not saying that to be a jerk. I'm saying it because you're about to throw away a massive opportunity here. And yeah, you got it because you know me. So what? I wouldn't have shown Chrissy your drawings if they weren't good. She wouldn't have agreed to wear the designs if they weren't good. You're talented, Savannah. Really talented, and you deserve to be known for your talents,” he went on, “I've lived in LA a lot longer than you have and I know how it works. People don't get what they want just by working hard and being honest. I mean, that's great and all but it doesn't matter how good you are if no one sees it. We network, we meet the right people and eventually some of us meet the people who can help us get noticed for our talents.”

“Wow,” I said. I was speechless. He'd made some good points but there was still a knot of guilt in my stomach at the thought of being helped like that.

“Just promise me you'll think about it,” he said. I nodded.

“All right, I promise. I'll think about it, but don't get your hopes up too high.” He grinned.

“I won't.”

Dane

Chad, my tattoo artist, was delighted to hear from me. So happy in fact that he came into the studio early to make time for me. We vibed well together and I always gave a huge tip, so I didn't feel too bad about it. I could see Savannah was nervous as we walked from the car to the studio.

“You all right?” I asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she said, but she was trembling a little bit. It was cute how nervous she was. It was as if she was getting a tattoo done herself. I'd been getting them for far to long to worry. All I felt was excitement at the thought of getting a new piece. Besides, I'd gotten my ribs done and nothing could be more painful than that. My arm would be fine.

“Good,” I said, “Cos there's no reason to worry.”

I was trying to be reassuring but she glared at me.

“I'm not worried,” she insisted. Whatever. She could put on the tough act as much as she liked, but I could see right through her. It was just that, an act.

The studio was bright and colorful. The walls were plastered with Chad's flash art, movie posters and photographs. He greeted me with a hug when he saw me. I wasn't a big hugger, especially not with other men but Chad was cool so I didn't care. Savannah looked somewhat alarmed at the sight of him.

From the neck up he looked like a normal, kind of handsome Asian guy. He hadn't let a tattoo needle touch his face, but that was about the only place. From the neck down, every inch of his skin was covered in tattoos. When he opened his mouth to speak his split tongue was visible. It made Savannah squeak.

Even so, when he hugged her she didn't pull away. She might have been nervous, but at least she
wasn't being judgmental.

We got down to business quickly.

“So, what were you thinking this time?” asked Chad, leaning on the counter. I explained my idea of a Japanese style serpent coiled around an apple. Chad was into it. He put on his reading glasses and drew it up while Savannah and I looked at the flash art.

There was a big variety. One page was filled with what he called 'white girl tattoos'. Feathers, infinity symbols, bird silhouettes and all that crap. That was the kind of shit that made him the most money. Things got more interesting as our eyes moved along the wall. Chad's creativity had begun to come out. I could see that Savannah was impressed by his artistic abilities.

She turned to him as he was drawing.

“Chad, why are there tears in some of the pages?” she asked. He was happy to explain.

“The original flash I do is one of a kind. When I tattoo one of those designs I tear it down so no one else will have it,” he said. It was a good system. I knew I wasn't the only person who hated the idea of someone else wearing the same tattoo design as me. That had turned out to be another unpleasant pitfall about being famous. Everyone wanted knock off versions of my tattoos rather than getting something original by a decent artist. It drove me crazy when fans came up to me and showed me the same koi fish that I had on my arm done (albeit, less skillfully) on their shin. I couldn't exactly tell them to fuck off and quit stealing my ink, though I really wanted to.

I saw Savannah's eyes wandering through the different flash tattoos. They eventually settled on a small, but detailed picture of a key shaded with black and gray. It was a very old fashioned looking key, like something from a Gothic novel. It even had a ribbon tied around one end. The black and gray only emphasized the spookiness of it.

Savannah pointed at it and turned to chad.

“Would you have time to do this on me today?” she asked. Chad looked down at the drawing he'd just finished.

“I might be able to squeeze it in at the end if everything goes to plan with Dane's tattoo,” he said.

She nodded.

“Sure, that would be great. If you can't make time, that's all right though.” “Thanks Savannah,” said Chad. Then he looked at me, “Ready to get started?”

But I'd had a thought. I was already covered in tattoos. Savannah didn't have any. I could easily wait for my snake and apple if I needed to.

“Do Savannah's first and see if you have time to do me after,” I said, much to Chad's surprise, “If you don't have time today I'll come back sometime this week.”

Savannah looked shocked. I wondered if she had been hoping he wouldn't be able to go through with it after all. The last thing I wanted was for her to make a permanent decision like committing to a tattoo under pressure.

Then she smiled and I knew everything would be OK.

“Thanks Dane! That's so sweet of you,” she said. She sat down in Chad's chair and told him that she wanted it on the inside of her upper arm.

“Good choice,” he said, grabbing the flash from the wall.

“That way no one can see it unless I want them too,” she said. The smile on her face momentarily disappeared when she saw Chad turn on the machine and the needles began to vibrate. However, when it touched her skin she gave a sigh of relief.

“It's not that bad,” she said.

It took less than an hour for Chad to finish Savannah's key. I could see it getting difficult for her towards the end, but she held in there. It was impressive, really. She didn't even whimper.

He showed it to her in the mirror before he wrapped it up. Savannah beamed at the sight of it. “It's gorgeous,” she said, tilting it this way and that, “I really love it.”

“I'm happy to hear that,” said Chad, “Dane will tell you all about aftercare. He's done it enough times at this stage.”

As it turned out, Chad had time to do my snake and apple. That amount of detailing in it meant it took two hours, but that was no big deal. I'd sat through ten hour sessions before. This was nothing.

It was fun to watch Savannah wandering around the shop and admiring the new tattoo on her arm. She kept coming over to check how mine was progressing and complimenting Chad's skills. I could tell right away that he liked her, but he didn't ask any questions about our relationship. That was the cool thing about Chad. He knew how to deal with celebrities without being annoying. He talked to me like I was a regular person and that, combined with his sick art skills, was the reason that I kept coming back for more.

The finished piece was just what I had hoped for, but better. I should have been over the excitement of new tattoos by now, but I couldn't help but grin when I saw how well this one had turned out. It complimented my other pieces perfectly and made my sleeve look complete.

“It looks awesome,” gushed Savannah. She was right.

I payed for both of our tattoos and left a generous tip. Chad said goodbye and Savannah and I left the studio, holding hands as we walked.

“I'll pay you back soon for this, you know,” she said.

“It was nothing, really I don't mind,” I said, but Savannah was insistent.

“No, I'm paying you back within the next month,” she said. I wondered if she'd stay at my house for the month. It wasn't an unappealing idea, which scared me. I really was falling for the girl if spending that much time with her didn't disgust me.

“How are you going to do that? With blow jobs?” I asked hopefully. Savannah gave me a playful shove.

“No, you idiot. With money!” she said.

“Oh yeah? And where will you get that?” I asked. She gave me a shy smile.

“When Chrissy wears my dress at that premiere I'm sure I'll find a way to make something out of it,” she said. Wait, so she was actually going to take me up on the offer? Holy shit, that was progress.

I couldn't resist lifting her off of the ground and swirling her around until we were both dizzy with laughter.

“I'm buying you ice cream to celebrate,” I said. She didn't argue. We walked back to the car together like a pair of giddy kids. I'd never felt so happy in my life.

I was a changed man. I wasn't yet sure if that was a good thing or not.