Good, Bad...Better. Cindi Myers

gently. “Sit up straight.”

      He forced his own gaze back to his work, determined not to let her get to him. “What kind of advice?” he asked again.

      “I’m trying to change my image.”

      “I thought the tattoo was supposed to do that.”

      “It was a start, but I need to do more.”

      “Didn’t shock the old man enough yet, huh?”

      She sat up straighter, her cheeks flushed. Bingo. He’d read her right, then. “I’ll admit, I want my father to see me differently. But I’m doing this for me, too. Moving to Chicago is a chance for me to start over, with a new image. Reinvent myself.”

      “I thought your old man wasn’t going to let you go to Chicago.”

      “He’s still against it, but I’m going to change his mind.”

      She sounded so determined. But Zach wouldn’t have bet against Grant Truitt. “Why not just go, and the hell with what daddy says?”

      “Yeah, why not do that?” the kid chimed in.

      She frowned. “Because he’s promised if I do, he’ll contact some influential friends who owe him favors and they’ll put pressure on the dance company to kick me out.”

      “He’d really do that?” the customer asked. But Zach already knew the answer to that question. Grant Truitt did whatever he damn well pleased. Before the “Clean Up Sixth Street” hoopla had died down, he’d been a frequent figure on the local news, pledging to rid Austin of “less desirable” elements. If the mayor hadn’t turned his attention to the more pressing issues of budget shortfalls and his chief aide’s involvement in a minor scandal, Chief Truitt and his minions would probably still be frequent, unwelcome visitors to the neighborhood.

      “My father wouldn’t see anything wrong with forcing me to stay in Austin, because he’d see it as ‘protecting’ me,” Jen explained to the kid.

      “So what makes you think you can do anything to change his mind?” Zach asked.

      She sat back and smoothed her hands along the arms of the chair. She had nice hands, with graceful fingers and neatly trimmed nails painted a shell pink. He wondered what those hands would feel like on him. Would she be tentative? Or more assured?

      “I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet, but I’ll think of something. The important thing is that, from now on, I’m going to live my life the way I want to live it, and stop worrying so much about what he or anybody else thinks.”

      “Your old man sounds like a real prick.” The kid came out of his lust-crazed stupor long enough to comment.

      Zach agreed, but it didn’t seem the thing to tell a woman her father was a prick, even if he was.

      “He just…gets ideas in his head and won’t let them go.” She shrugged. “I think he still sees me stuck as a ten-year-old, needing Daddy to look after me. It would be sweet if it weren’t so annoying.”

      Zach thought there was nothing sweet about her father, but that was probably a matter of perspective. “I don’t see how you think my sister’s going to help you.”

      She smiled again and her eyes met his, the look of determination in them was stunning in its intensity. “She looks like a woman of the world. I figure maybe she can give me some tips.”

      Tips about what? he wondered. Then again, maybe he didn’t really want to know what this woman was up to.

      3

      AT FIRST, THERESA COULDN’T believe what this chick was asking her. “I want you to help me create a new image,” Jen said. “I’m ready for a big change.”

      She would have laughed out loud if the blonde hadn’t looked so serious. In fact, ever since Theresa had returned from lunch and Jen had followed her into the back room of the shop, Jen had acted like she was on a mission of life or death. “So why are you asking me for help? You’re the only one who can know what you really want.”

      Jen nodded. “That’s true. But I don’t have any idea where to begin. Where to shop. What really goes together and what just looks like I’m trying too hard.”

      “And I look like a fashion expert?” Theresa glanced down at her everyday outfit of jeans and leather top. Call it biker chic. “What kind of a look are you going for?”

      “Something…a little daring. Sexy.” A sly smile stole over her face. “Maybe even a little dangerous.”

      Theresa chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Dangerous? With all that long, blond hair and those cute little pink tights, Jen looked as though she ought to be on the cover of All American Girl or Cheerleaders Monthly. She practically oozed wholesomeness.

      Then again, something about her had really gotten to Zach. He’d been pretty shook up while she was here yesterday. Too shook up to do her tat. All he’d said when he’d come into the back room was, “There’s a woman out front who wants this tattoo.” He’d handed her the sketch of the calla lily. “I’ve got her prepped. You just need to finish her up.”

      She had looked up from the supply order she’d been unpacking, surprised at the unusual request. Zach always finished the tats he started. “If you’ve got her prepped, why don’t you finish her?”

      He’d avoided her eyes. “I just think she’d be, you know, more comfortable with a woman working on her.”

      She’d seen through that pretty quickly. What he really meant was that Zach would be more comfortable with Theresa doing this particular tattoo for this particular customer.

      Yeah, blondie here had gotten to her brother in a big way. So maybe she did have a hidden sex appeal not obvious to another woman. Who would have thought?

      “Why the sudden urge to change your look?”

      Jen flushed, which only put more peaches in that peaches-and-cream complexion. Just looking at her made Theresa want to run to the ladies’ room and put on more eyeliner and red lipstick.

      “You offered me a card for the woman who sold you that vest you had on yesterday, so I figured you probably know other cool places to shop. As for why now…” She shrugged. “I’ve always admired sexy things. Now that I have a cool tattoo, maybe I can pull off the look.”

      “And that’s all there is to it? This has nothing to do with my brother?”

      Jen’s blush deepened. “Nothing. What makes you think this has anything to do with Zach?”

      “Maybe because the two of you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other when you were in here yesterday.”

      Jen looked away. “Yeah, well, I know he’s your brother, so maybe you hadn’t noticed, but he’s really hot.”

      “Apparently so, if all the women hanging around here are a clue.”

      Jen’s face fell. Really, she was so transparent. “Does he have lots of girlfriends?”

      Theresa did laugh then. “Not exactly. Lots of women who’d like to get him in the sack, but, believe it or not, he’s pretty picky.” She couldn’t remember the last time Zach had had what you could call a steady relationship. Not that they stuck their noses in each other’s business, but she had to think the whole “lone wolf” routine got old. Zach was a really nice guy. He deserved a woman who could look past the leather and chains and see that.

      But was Little Miss Muffet here that woman? “He had some kind of reaction to you yesterday. He’s never asked me to finish a tat for him before.”

      “Really? I mean, not that that means anything. Does it?”

      Good question. Could it be that her brother, a Harley-riding, leather-wearing, long-haired dude with a badass attitude, had fallen for this poster child