Company Ink Read online

  It was time to have some fun. To forget about my troubles and cut loose. Maybe I’d start with a giant margarita.

  I relaxed my grip on both my pad and pen, and as I did, the suit beneath the sleeve of my white button up seemed to absorb them, pulling them out of view and hiding them beneath the cuffs. It was a little weird, and as I flicked my right wrist once, the pen reappeared in my hand. Yet another improvement to having to grab it from my pocket or necklace.

  Yeah, sure, I could have used the voice commands or whatever, but part of me was going to feel stupid using them if it wasn’t life or death. Besides, if another Pen Bearer was watching, I didn’t want to give away my ace in the hole just yet.

  Nodding to myself, I made my way toward the front of the casino so I could catch a ride. The Medallion was nice, sure, but it was no Emperor’s Palace or whatever. Actually, for all I knew, it was. Honestly, I just wanted to go to Emperor’s Palace and see the statues move around.

  As I made my way toward the taxi pickup, I found a line of people and frowned. Part of me wanted to avoid the line and just use my pen to make a limo show up, but as I moved toward the line, I realized I didn’t want to be driven. No, I wanted to walk.

  Taking another gulp of air, I decided to do just that. After all, catching a taxi, a limo, or a fucking helicopter filled with swimsuit models was just a flick of the wrist away.

  Spinning on my heel, I began to walk back up toward the street when my heightened senses picked up the sound of someone shuffling behind me. No, not just behind me, but shuffling like they were after me.

  “Seventy-two hours my ass,” I murmured to myself, taking a few quick steps as my heart started to pound. I wondered what they were going to come up at me with. Mechs? Bazookas? Sniper rounds from a thousand yards away?

  No, maybe it was something simpler, like a hypodermic needle to the neck.

  “Do you need something?” I asked, whirling around, pen already in hand as I brought it to my pad, ready to unleash a hail of spiders on whoever was unfortunate enough to follow me.

  “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else,” slurred the disheveled brunette as she looked me over. She had one high heel in her hand, but both her feet were bare. The left strap of her red dress had slid off her shoulder and was wrapped around her upper arm, causing the top of the fabric to slip so dangerously low over her cleavage that I could see the dark edge of her nipple.

  I’ll be honest, I noticed her face next and was surprised to find she was older than I’d expected. Perhaps mid-thirties but it was hard to tell, thanks to the smeared eye makeup and lipstick.

  “You’re sorry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why is that?” I tapped the pad with my pen, trying to decide whether or not she was up to no good.

  Instead of responding, the brunette took a huge gulp of air right before she yacked all over the sidewalk between us.

  “Oh god,” I said, leaping back to avoid the spray as the brunette looked up and wiped her mouth with the back of one hand.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled again, and because it looked like she was going to face plant into a pile of her own puke, I moved to grab her.

  As my pen and pad slipped into the cuffs of my shirt, my arms slid around her body, pulling her away.

  “Thanks,” she mewled and looked back at me, eyes still glassy. “I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I replied as she tried to hold her well-manicured right hand out to me, which was awkward because I was supporting her weight.

  “I’m Veronica,” she slurred, eyes raking over me as she spun drunkenly in my arms and gripped me for balance, so I was supporting almost all her weight. “But my friends call me Ronnie.”

  “Okay,” I replied as she forcibly shook my arm with her free hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ronnie.”

  “So, we’re friends, are we?” She quirked a delicate eyebrow at me. “How do I know I can trust you?” Then she tried to karate chop me in the shoulder, only because I was too quick, she wound up catching only empty air and stumbling forward, her one high heel going flying across the sidewalk.

  “Waaaaa!” she cried, and as she was about to stumble into a planter, I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back to her feet.

  “You can cut the act,” I said, spinning her around. “Who hired you?”

  “Hired me?” Her eyes got wide. “Oh my god, you think I’m a prostitute.” She smacked herself on the side of the head with one palm, and the movement nearly caused her to fall over. “Stupid, stupid.”

  “I don’t think you’re a prostitute,” I said as she continued to mumble to herself.

  “You don’t?” She turned her baby blues on me, confusion filling them, and I got the distinct impression that she was probably really intelligent when she wasn’t so, well, drunk off her ass. “Then why did you think I’d been hired?”

  “It’s not important,” I said, and as I moved to walk away from her, she grabbed my arm.

  “Um … you seem like a nice boy.” Her eyes went to her bare feet, and I noticed all her toenails had been painted hot pink save for the big one, which was white with a strawberry in the center.

  “Thanks?” I said, wanting to get away from her. I had no idea what she wanted, but I knew one thing. Having this girl stall me in front of where I’d exited my lair via underground tunnel was probably bad, which was also why I was going to a different casino.

  “You’re welcome.” She swallowed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then she put up her hand. “I’m not going to throw up again.” She put her hand on my chest. “I think.” She gave me a weak smile.

  “That’s nice.” I nodded to her. “Say, maybe you need to sit down for a while?” I pointed to a bench a few meters away. “Or better yet, go back to your room.”

  Only as I said the words, she burst out crying and buried her face in my shirt. “I don’t have a room!” she whined, inhaling hard.

  “Wha—”

  “I was supposed to come here with my boyfriend, but then I found out the bastard was cheating on me with my step-brother.” She looked at the sky. “I mean, do you know how that feels? I’m so bad in bed, my boyfriend turned gay!”

  “I don’t think that’s how it works—”

  “So, I said to myself, Ronnie, you’re a big girl. You go on that trip anyway.” She pulled away and nodded sullenly. “Then I came here, but my stupid ex had already shown up with my step-brother, Troy.” She wailed loudly. “Still, I tried to make the best of it. I put on my big girl dress, dolled myself up in the casino bathroom, and tried to have fun until my sister Lacy showed up. Only, that’s not until tomorrow, and I haven’t dated in years, let alone flirted with guys.” She snorted, burying her face into my shirt again and yeah, I was going to need a new shirt. “I was so nervous, I got a couple shots …” She pulled away from me and gave me a long, hard look. “I’m not normally like this.”

  “I believe you,” I said, patting her head because I was unsure of what else to do.

  “Thanks,” she said, trying to stand back up and swaying. “Vegas kinda sucks when you’re all alone and shy.” That’s when her face turned bright red. “Oh wow, you must think I’m a total basket case. I’m not, I promise.”

  “It’s okay, really.” I glanced around, looking for a way to escape, and finding none.

  “You want to go too …” She took a step back, tripped, and fell on her butt, which was also when I realized she wasn’t wearing panties. “I understand.” She tried to put on a brave face. “Why would you want to talk to me?” That’s when tears spilled from her eyes, and as I stood there, I realized I was way too nice of a guy to just leave her there like this.

  “Actually, I really didn’t have a lot to do today.” I held out my hand to her. “Maybe I could buy you a drink?” I gave her a reassuring smile. “I can probably spend a couple hours waiting with you until your sister shows up.”

  “Really?” she asked, looking at me. “You’re not just saying that because I’m s
ad and pathetic, and you feel sorry for me?”

  “No, I’m saying that because you’re not wearing underwear and that’s kind of my kryptonite.” As I spoke, I realized it was probably the wrong thing to say, because she plunged her hands between her legs, pulling the hem of her dress down.

  “I was trying to feel sexy,” she mumbled, looking away.

  “Well, it’s working.” I nodded to her. “And I have a room at Emperor’s Palace.” Well, I would, thanks to that voice command. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

  “You’re not just saying that so you can lure me back to your room and have your way with me, are you?” She gave me a long look, and when I didn’t immediately respond, she mumbled under her breath. “Yeah, as if a guy that hot would want to do anything with you.” She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet and took a hesitant step toward me, and as she did, I hooked her arm with mine.

  “Come on, my limo just pulled up over there.” I pointed across the way while using a quick voice command to make it so that the driver inside decided he wanted to pick me up.

  “You have a limo?” As she turned to look, the chauffeur got out of the long black stretch job across the way and looked around.

  “Yeah,” I said, waving my free hand at the driver, signaling him to come help. As he started toward us, I smiled at Ronnie. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  6

  “I feel like I’m in that Fifty Shades movie,” Ronnie said, leaning against me in the back of the limo. I wasn’t sure if she was doing it on purpose or if it was just because she was drunk, but either way after I’d tried to move away a couple times and had her just scooch closer to me, I’d given up.

  “The Fifty Shades movie?” I asked, trying to figure out what she was talking about. “Isn’t that a book?”

  “It is?” Her hand slipped onto my knee as she waved away the question with her other one. “You know, rich guy picks up a struggling reporter, takes her away to have his way with her.” She bit her lip, lost in her fantasy. “Though I’m not a reporter.”

  “What makes you think I’m rich?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her as the driver started the limo.

  “Is that a real question?” She looked me up and down. “We’re in a limo.”

  “Maybe I’m trying to impress women so I can have my way with them?” I asked, and she burst out laughing.

  “Oh, is this where you ask me if I want to see your pleasure room?” she hiccupped, and then turned away from me, cheeks red. “Say, does this thing have alcohol?” She held up a hand as she slid across the seat toward the alcohol cabinet. “I know you think I’ve had enough—”

  “I never said that.” I watched her rummage around for a moment before coming up with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “Oh, Roger. How’d you know to bring my one true friend?” She shook the bottle at me. “Wanna do a shot with me?”

  “Yeah, all right,” I said, and she nodded once. Then she poured an entire drinking glass full of whiskey and handed it to me.

  “Go on. You’re playing catch up.” She took a gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle and wiped her mouth. “What?” she added when she caught me staring at her. “Never met a girl from Tennessee?”

  “No, actually.” I frowned and looked at my drink.

  “Well, let me tell you one thing,” she said, sidling toward me and sitting on my lap. She wiggled her butt a little as she took the hand holding the glass and brought it to my lips.

  “You know, if this is spiked, it will turn green?” I said, activating the voice command, but when the drink stayed its normal caramel color, I relaxed and took a sip.

  “Is that true?” She gave the alcohol a long look. “I didn’t even think to check.” She smacked her forehead with the base of the bottle. “God, I am so dumb.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I took another sip, and as the warmth of the whiskey washed over me, I felt some of the tension between my shoulders melt away. “I’m just a little paranoid.”

  “Oh.” She giggled. “Do you think I’m trying to get you drunk so I can murder you or something? Maybe slip a little something in your drink.” She touched my chest again with her free hand, and this time bit her lip. “Because I’m just trying to get you drunk enough to fuck me.” She flushed so hard almost all of her exposed skin turned scarlet.

  “Wait, what?” I asked. I mean, okay, I was known to be dense, but this came off as a bit, well, I wasn’t sure. She just didn’t really seem like the type to jump into bed with the first guy she saw, lack of panties notwithstanding.

  “I thought maybe if I got you drunk …” She slipped off my lap and onto the seat next to me. Then she took a giant swig from the bottle. “Imagine you’re me, and the guy you’ve been sleeping with for the last two years turned gay.”

  “I really don’t think that’s how it works,” I said, looking her over.

  “Maybe it’s just that I’m old?” She cupped her breasts and shook them at me. “I mean, do guys even want to see these now?”

  “Ronnie, maybe just take a minute and think about what you’re doing,” I said right before she unslung her straps, causing the dress to fall around her waist and revealing her full breasts complete with hard, dark nipples.

  “I always thought they were nice, but at the same time they aren’t as nice as they used to be …” She looked up at me. “What do you think?” She bit her lip. “If you say they’re nice, I’ll believe you.”

  “They’re great. Perfect really.” It was true. They were, and a lot of me wanted to reach out and touch them.

  “Okay.” She nodded, looking down at herself before pulling her dress back up. That’s also when she realized what she’d done. “I can’t believe …”

  “Me either, but I’m glad you did. It was quite the show.” I leaned back and took another sip of my drink. “Really.”

  “I believe you, which is great because you seem like the type of guy who gets a lot of girls.” She nodded and then took another swig from the bottle. “I bet you’re just great in bed.”

  “Is that why you wanted to sleep with me?” I asked, strangely surprised at the turn of events that had transpired. I’d literally left a base full of hotties, and now I was in a limo with a drunk girl from Tennessee.

  “Well, I also just wanted to prove I could attract a high-quality guy like yourself.” She grabbed my shirt and leaned her head against my shoulder. “You know, prove I’ve still got it.”

  “Ah.” I stared at her for a moment, and as she looked up at me, lips parted, I realized what was going on. “Seems your ex really did a number on you.”

  “I guess.” She took another swig from the bottle, and this time her eyes got a little glassier. “But sometimes, a girl just wants to find a nice guy to make her feel good for a night.” She waved the bottle toward the limo. “Regrets are for tomorrow.” She looked back at me. “And something tells me I’m going to regret you a whole lot.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’re one hundred percent getting laid. You’re a nice guy, and it’s about time a nice guy gets rewarded with some fucking.” She looked away. “In fact, the only reason I haven’t ripped all your clothes off right now is because going to your room feels classier than fucking you in the limo. At least then you have to throw me out of your room as opposed to just telling the driver to pull over and kicking my ass to the curb afterward.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I said, finishing my drink and setting it down, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to feel it.

  “I believe you, which is why we can totally make out in the limo if you want.” She smiled at me. “Unless you want me to take a shower first.” She frowned and looked down at herself. “That might be a good idea actually.”

  “Actually, I have a trick for that,” I said as we pulled up outside Emperor’s Palace.

  “A trick for what?” Ronnie frowned at me before raising the bottle of whiskey. “Is this where you tell me to brush my teeth with a
bottle of Jack?”

  “Ha.” I smirked. “No. I mean, I’m something of a magician, and I’ve been working on a cleaning spell.” I gave her a once over. “Trust me, you’ll be spic and span in a moment.” I held my hand out to her. “That is if you’ll trust me?”

  “You’re a magician?” She gave me a horrified look. “Like David Copperfield?” She glanced around the limo. “Do you perform at Emperor’s Palace or something?”

  “I’m not a performer, no.” I shrugged. “Just go with it. Unless you want to walk through a casino …” I trailed off as she looked down at herself, which was when she probably realized she looked like she’d been on a three-day bender. Sure, it was nothing a trip to a shower couldn’t fix, but why wait?

  “Wow, I’m kind of embarrassed. In my defense, I clean up really nice.” She took a swig from the bottle. Then another. “I was a former Miss Tennessee, actually.” She flushed again and waved the bottle at me. Then she met my eyes. “Whatever, you’ll see. Magic me up, so I don’t look like I got rode hard and put away wet.” She nodded. “Then you’ll be like ‘god damn, that’s one fine bitch I get to fuck.’ I mean it’s either that or I’ll cry really hard.”

  “H’okay,” I said, trying to ignore her crazy. “Shut your eyes. I’m serious. No blinking.”

  “Fine.” She shut her eyes. And then made a show of covering her face with her hands. “You’d better hurry though because the whole world is spinning.”

  “I will,” I said, waving my hands in front of her and activating my pen. “Ronnie is now clean like she’s freshly showered, her makeup is fixed, and her clothes are freshly laundered.” As I said the words, there was a small pop in my ear, letting me know my line had worked.

  “Is that it?” she asked, and like a dumbass, I nodded. “Well?” she added because, duh, she had her eyes closed and couldn’t see me.

  “Sorry, I’m an idiot. Yeah, we’re done.” As I finished speaking, she opened her eyes and looked down at herself. Then she squealed with joy.