“Thanks. Out in a minute.”
“Cool.” Sam paused. “What are you guys talking about?”
“The pay system,” they said at the same time, then cringed at how fake that sounded. There was another pause.
“Whatever,” Sam said. “Just get your ass out here, I’m up to my elbows in it right now.”
They listened as Sam’s boots stomped away and breathed a shared sigh of relief. Noah flicked the lights back on and saw Nicole looked horror-struck. She’d strained against the tape, pulling it so tight it was cutting into her shoulders and breasts. “Oh, baby—”
“Don’t,” she said. “Let me out.”
He grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and cut her free. She tore the rest away herself, tugging her skirt down her thighs. “You need to go.”
“Nikki…”
“Please don’t call me that,” she said, her voice wavering once more. “I’m fine, that was fine. You’re a good lover and a nice person, but I don’t want to talk about it or anything else. Please just go.”
With Jonah waiting and Sam close, he didn’t have time to protest. He kissed her cheek. “Come see me.”
She turned away, rubbing the watch that hid her tattoo. God, removing her tattoo felt like a bad omen, although everything felt like a bad omen right now. He headed down the hall, a fresh headache pounding behind his eyes.
Chapter 11
“Aren’t our pups the cutest fucking pups in the world?”
Nicole, crouched over Miles, had to disagree. She had a plastic bag wrapped over her hand and she was bracing herself to collect his crap. Lilah and Poppy, the other two puppies she was walking, were taking advantage of her proximity to lick the heck out of her face. “Can you help me?”
“You’ve got it,” Tabby said comfortably. “Why don’t you just leave it, anyway? It’ll fertilize the grass.”
“That’s not how fertilizer works!”
“Oh, come on. No one’ll know it’s us.”
“You’re a horrible person.”
Tabby grinned. “Yeah.”
The two of them were walking the six half-cocker spaniel, half-Rottweiler dogs Tabby had rescued from euthanization. They were only supposed to be at Silver Daughters until they were old enough for adoption, but all six had been weaned and were rapidly approaching full size—yet no one, particularly Tabby, was making any effort to find them new homes. They were becoming a disturbingly regular part of life at the studio; even their dad’s cat, Midnight, barely hissed at them anymore. Nicole collected Miles’ poo in the bag and dropped it in the bin. Rubbing her hand against her bare thigh, she asked, “When are you going to sell the pups?”
“When they’re ready.”
“They’re beyond ready. We can’t have six full sized dogs running through the house and studio.”
Tabby covered Specter’s ears with her hands. “Not in front of the kids!”
“They’re fully grown dogs now. They chew everything, they eat a bag of dog food a day, and they leave haireverywhere.”
“It’s not too bad. Besides, Morgan’s already been adopted, remember?”
“Yes. By Scott. Who feels so guilty about leaving her alone in his apartment she still lives with us.”
Tabby looked up at the sky and shrugged, the ‘live and let live’ gesture so reminiscent of their dad, Nicole’s chest ached. “Well, whatever. Hey, where do you think Dad is?”
“Dunno. I miss him though.”
She did, too. Things made sense when he was around, running Silver Daughters, calling her every week with updates on her sisters. She’d felt distant enough to breathe, and connected enough to love them at the same time. Now she had no idea what she was doing. Suddenly, loneliness burst through the plastic wrap she’d stretched over herself since she and Noah almost hooked up in the office.
Where was Edgar DaSilva? Why couldn’t he come back? If her dad was here, things wouldn’t have had to change. She exhaled, willing the pain to fade into a manageable ache. It was stupid to feel lonely on a walk with her sister and six puppies. Self-indulgent. As for Noah, why did she even care that they’d slept together? It didn’t mean anything. He was an ex-bikie who was all up her butt about getting her tattoo removed. He didn’t get her at all.