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and a three-piece suit that should have looked out of place but instead made him look distinguished.
    “Thank you, Cameron. I couldn’t have done it without you and your investment.” She laughed a throaty laugh Jackson had never heard before and laid a hand on the sleeve of the guy’s jacket, looking up at him as if he’d saved the world.
    Cameron held a glass of champagne in one hand and covered Lissa’s hand with the other. “You and your business are worth every penny. I’ve never invested in such a fascinating venture before.”
    Enough of this bullshit.
Instead of hanging back like he’d planned on doing, Jackson burst right into their little personal bubble and grabbed Lissa for a hug. “Great job, girl. You really outdid yourself,” he whispered into her ear, enjoying the feel of her hair against his lips and the way the Cameron guy narrowed his eyes at them.
    He handed over the three primary-colored bottles of ink he’d bought for her over the internet. He probably should have put them in a bag or something, like a present, but he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Congrats on the parlor.”
    “Oh, wow, Jackson, thank you.” She held them to her chest like a prized puppy. He smiled over at Cameron and winked.
    The suit guy smiled back, but there was an edge to his expression that Jackson didn’t like. Before he could taunt him into a pissing contest, Lissa made the introductions. “Jackson, this is Cameron DiMaggio, my investor. Cameron, meet Jackson Freeling, one of my oldest friends. He owns a construction company in town. Maybe the two of you should talk business.”
    When the ninth ring of hell froze over, Jackson thought of saying but didn’t. Instead he offered his hand and thoroughly enjoyed grinding his calloused palm into Pretty Boy’s smooth-as-a-newly-polished-banister one.
    “Nice to meet you, Jackson,” Cameron said from between clenched teeth, that smarmy smile still on his face.
    “Yeah, back at ya.”
    He turned his back to the man and addressed Lissa. “You’ve got a pretty good-sized party going on here. Have you tattooed every one of these people?”
    Cameron’s hand went to the small of Lissa’s back and snaked around to the other side of her waist. “Not every one, but soon. Right, my dear?”
    “You just let me know when and I’ll fit you into my schedule.” She laughed that throaty laugh and made no move to relocate his hand.
    “So, Lissa, I need to talk to you if you can ditch the suit.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, though not too hard.
    “It’ll have to wait, Jackson, and I think Cameron looks very dashing in his suit.” She looked him up and down with half a smile. “You could take a hint or two from him.”
    “Yeah, him and an undertaker.”
    She slammed one of those pretty heels into his instep right before she hooked her arm into Cameron’s and calmly walked away.
    Well, shit.
    * * *
    Of all the ridiculous, Neanderthal, ludicrous crap… No, she would not let herself finish that thought or it would be too hard to keep the fake smile on her face. And she wanted that smile there, no matter how difficult it was. This was her opening night. She was surrounded by former clients and hopefully new ones, as well. She’d cut a ribbon with the mayor earlier, for God’s sake, and he was
not
going to ruin this for her.
    She had twin urges to cry and smack him in the back of the head. The big lout.
    But she was still holding Cameron’s arm, and she was determined to act like a lady. The man had made her dream come true and at only three percent interest. He deserved her undivided attention.
    “I’m sorry for Jackson back there.”
    “Oh, no worries at all, Lissa. I wasn’t fazed. I’ve dealt with his kind before. It’s best to shake them off like a dog who’s humping your leg and move on.”
    “A dog who’s…” She laughed.
    “Ah, that’s a more natural smile.” He gave her one of his own. “Don’t let him get you down. Enjoy yourself.