Page 11 of Wicked Takeover
At that rate, it’d take her until dinner to finish, if she did at all.
He wasn’t absolutely certain what she was doing. Unless she wasn’t eating because she was self-conscious about her figure, like a lot of women were, and was on a diet.
Dante wanted to haul her to his station, turn her to the mirror, and show her how outstanding her curves were. How fucking feminine she was, no matter what Madison Avenue claimed men wanted. He was a damn man, and he liked meat on a woman. Maybe it was due to his cultural heritage, but ample boobs, hips, and a plush ass made his blood sing. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time to get into that. “Tell you what.” He inclined his head to Van Gogh. “At least try to do what he’s doing.”
Oblivious to everything except his lunch, Van Gogh shoveled forkfuls of his monster burrito, rice, and refried beans into his mouth. His thin cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s. A cheese string hung over his bottom lip.
“Scratch that.” Dante wagged his finger at Lauren. “Don’t mimic everything he’s doing.” He tossed a napkin to Van Gogh.
Ignoring it, the young man kept his face down and concentrated on his meal as if it were his last one before Lauren liquidated him.
Jasmina was blissfully unaware of the dynamics going on. She snuggled her pink smartphone against her ear, stabbed a forkful of lettuce and chicken in her tostada, laughed until she was breathless, then spoke baby talk to her boyfriend. A guy she’d met at the community college. Brad had big dreams about someday being a McDonald’s franchisee. With Jasmina’s enthusiasm behind him, there was little doubt the kid would make it.
Lauren scooped rice onto her fork and took a tiny bite.
Dante stood.
She stopped mid-chew and lifted her face. Worry touched her pretty features. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
He liked how bummed she sounded. “Only for a sec.”
Her attention shot to the door. “There’s a customer?”
She thought about money too much. As far as he could see, that was her only flaw. “Nope. Don’t worry, there will be.” Before she could comment, he hurried to where the magic really happened in this place. Van Gogh’s workstation.
He returned with a thick binder and placed it next to Lauren. “Go on, look inside.”
She stared at the thing and drooped. “The financials are in there? You don’t have them on a computer?”
“We have everything on our computers, thanks to Jasmina. You remember, the brains of this place?”
Nodding to whatever her boyfriend said, Jasmina also blew Dante a kiss, thanking him for his compliment.
He winked.
Lauren regarded the exchange between them and opened the binder.
Her wonder returned, eyes gleaming, breath catching. There was the woman he knew was inside.
Photo after photo showed Van Gogh’s incredible work. One man’s back boasted a series of star-shaped designs. Not the typical flat, cartoony type, but ones that appeared three-dimensional. Van Gogh had inked the customer’s skin to resemble stone. Parts of the rock fell away to show the universe beneath, a blue expanse—dark at the corners, the color fainter in the middle—that was studded with white light to depict the planets and stars.
Lauren ran her hand over the images.
Another picture showed a guy’s torso inked with ten female mouths, each identical. The teeth and lips looked so real the effect was downright eerie.
She paused at a woman’s tat that showed a frilly garter belt inked on her thigh. The garter seemed to hold up her skin rather than stockings, her flesh creased slightly beneath the clips.
One guy had a humongous eye smack between his shoulders, the orb nearly as large as his head.
Lauren curled her upper lip at that and frowned at the next pictures. “What’s this?”
“Fluorescent tattoos.” Dante tapped the first photo. “You can’t see them until you use black light, then—”
“They glow in the dark.” She flipped to the next page that showed the effects. “Wow. That is so cool.”
Van Gogh glanced up from his meal. “You want me to ink you with something like that?”
Dante prayed she wouldn’t say, “Absolutely not,” depressing the kid further.
