House of Payne: Ice Page 11

  That was true enough, though he hated it with the fire of a thousand burning suns. “So?”

  “So, you know how it is these days,” Angel shrugged, leading the way up the stairs. “There’s always someone out there with a camera. And with a famous face like yours…”

  “You made the front page of the Entertainment section in the Tribune,” Twist explained, snagging his phone from his hip pocket. Once they reached the second level, he handed it over with a grimace. “Personally, I don’t know what the big fucking deal is, kissing someone under the mistletoe. But I figure you should at least know the picture’s out there.”

  “Shit.” Ice’s already questionable mood turned black as he looked down at the grainy photo of him in a tight clinch with Sunny, and not even the fact that she was doing one of those cute heel-pop things with her foot could make it better.

  Publicity.

  Just what he didn’t need.

  “’Morning, everyone.” The double doors leading to Payne’s office opened, and there stood the man himself. His gaze locked with Ice before he jerked his head back toward his office. “Ice. Let’s talk.”

  With his mouth clamped into a flat line, Ice gave the phone back to Twist before stalking through the doors, half-expecting to see Scout waiting for him and was surprised to find the big man’s office was empty. As the House’s manager and Payne’s right hand, Scout reminded him vividly of Sunny. Both women had a knack for rooting out trouble and killing it in its tracks before it could do any damage. Personally he thought Sunny was better at opportunity-creation for both employees and clientele, as well as being a whiz at social-media marketing. But both women were geniuses when it came to making sure a business as insane as a tattoo studio ran like a well-oiled machine.

  “If this has to do with the picture in today’s paper, I already know about it.” Sitting across from Payne at his snazzy chrome and glass console-style desk, Ice propped a booted ankle on his knee and leaned into the leather chair’s backrest. “Time will tell whether or not it’ll snag my old man’s attention, but I’m not too worried about it.”

  “Scout’s got her finger on Damien Eisen’s pulse, so I have every confidence she’ll know if and when that dickhead ever turns an eye toward Chicago. I didn’t want to talk to you about that.” Easing back in his own chair, Payne clasped his hands behind his head. “I met Sunny Fairfax the other day when she dropped by. Scout’s a huge fan of hers.”

  That lifted a corner of Ice’s mouth. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”

  “Scout mentioned she and Sunny had a chance to talk. Did you know Sunny’s not happy where she’s working now?”

  It was amazing, how it pissed him off that a man Sunny just met knew more about her inner thoughts than he did. Not that Sunny ever allowed anyone to get a glimpse of her personal shit, but still. “I don’t see how she could be happy where she is now. Itty Bitty Kitty Committee is a nice place, and it’s run by sweet people who’ve probably never dropped an F-bomb in their lives, but it’s not—”

  “Wait, wait. Stop. Where is she working?”

  “Itty Bitty Kitty Committee.”

  “Kitty?” Payne’s expression was priceless. “Do you mean like…like…cats?”

  “Yeah. It’s a monthly subscription gift box company for people with cats. Since Sunny’s been there, sales have gone through the roof. Look for their commercials this holiday season. Oh, and I’m doing a fundraiser for local animal shelters in the name of House Of Payne through them. Scout knows about it.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ on a crutch.” Payne shook his head, the picture of stunned amazement. “A refugee from the ink world is working at…at…”

  “Itty Bitty Kitty Committee.” At last, Ice cracked a grin. “Like I was saying, it isn’t a good fit for Sunny. At all.”

  “Scout thinks the House would be an excellent fit for her. So do I. Shit, at this point I almost feel like it’s a fucking rescue mission to get back one of our own after she’s been shipwrecked on some godforsaken alien cat planet. I mean, Jesus, I like cats well enough, but she’s got to be fucking screaming by now. What’s your take on the subject?”

  Ice stilled. “Seriously? You want Sunny to come work for House Of Payne?”

  “Answer the question first. You know her best, so you tell me—would Sunny Fairfax be a good fit at House Of Payne? And would she be happy enough to want to stay here, long-term, as part-time manager to take the pressure off Scout, and act as a full-time PR and media marketer to broaden the House’s global reach?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Just the thought made him grin. “That would be right up Sunny’s alley. That woman could sell snow to Santa Claus and make him happy with the purchase.”

  “Good. Now, let’s talk about the problem.”

  All at once his good humor fled. “You mean me.”

  Payne nodded. “I’ve been upfront about how I feel on the subject, so don’t get your tighty-whities in a bunch. I’m thrilled you’ve brought your talent and your brand to the House, but I’ll cut you loose in a hot second if any of the shit that upended Skull and Bones Ink tries to roll up on my shore. No offense.”

  Darkness rolled through Ice like poison. “None taken. If I could cut loose from who I am, I’d do it, too.”

  “I know this past year has sucked for you, and I hope like hell you’ll stay at the House until we’re both old and gray and showing off pictures of our crazy-ass grandkids. I just need you to understand that my main priority will always be protecting what I’ve built here. Nothing threatens the House.”

  Ice’s smile had nothing to do with humor. “I take it you don’t like how easily I gave up on Skull and Bones Ink after Sunny was targeted? After my mother’s life was fucking threatened? Seriously?”

  “Throttle back on the shit-fit I can feel coming, man. I’m not judging you, okay? Swear to God, I’m not. I’m just stating that House Of Payne is my number-one priority.”

  “You’ve got your priorities and I’ve got mine. You want to protect House Of Payne. I want to protect Sunny. There’s not much I can do for my mother except keep a lid on the status quo, but Sunny’s a different story. The way I saw it, Skull and Bones Ink was nothing compared to her, so when I learned that someone got to her through her my studio, I was more than happy to blow that shit up. The studio, the TV show—everything that was an avenue to infiltrate her life, I destroyed it. When it comes to priorities, Sunny Fairfax is number-one on my list.”

  Payne took all that in without blinking. “If you start quoting sonnets about how she gives you all the feels, I’m going to fucking lose it.”

  Fuck. “You’re an asshole.”

  “For what it’s worth, I do get where you’re coming from, and if I had to choose between Becks and the House, I’d light a match to this place without hesitation.” But that didn’t stop him from chuckling like he was thoroughly enjoying a joke at his expense. “My problem is this—Skull and Bones Ink wasn’t what allowed Sunny to be targeted. That was just the fertile backdrop for all those seeds to be planted. What threatened her was the fact that she means something to you. She’s your Achilles heel, and no matter where you go—L.A., or Chicago, or the frigging weird cat planet your woman’s currently marooned on—that’s not going to change. If she gets threatened at some point in the future, I won’t let you turn House Of Payne upside down to save her.”

  “Hell, yeah, Sunny’s my Achilles’ heel, and I’ve got a shit-stain father-type figure who takes sincere pleasure in threatening her in order to get me to jump through whatever hoop he’s set on fire. But that’s no longer a problem, so you don’t have to worry about the House.”

  Payne’s brows shot up. “You don’t think he’s a problem? Why? Because you very publicly fired Sunny and convinced the world you didn’t give a shit about her? Hate to say it, pal, but you’ve blown your cover, thanks to that photo in the paper this morning.”

  Ice shook his head. “Publicly cutting ties with Sunny was just a stop-gap measure until I could
get everything I needed to protect her. I did, so now I can get on with living life.”

  “What the hell did you get?”

  Ice hesitated. “You remember I told everyone I couldn’t move to Chicago right away because the sale of Skull and Bones Ink took longer than expected?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That wasn’t exactly the truth.”

  Payne’s eyes narrowed. “What is the truth?”

  “I turned my old man’s shitty games back on him.” Again Ice smiled, and it felt as cold as his name. “During the time that Skull and Bones Ink was on TV, I’d done what I could to keep the old man at bay—even hired investigators to find whatever dirt I could get on him, just in case I needed the added insurance. Then the shit hit the fan last year, which put my back up against the wall. I had to get Sunny out before I blew it all up, and then I was free to go to fucking town. It took me a while, but I got all the dirt I needed to keep that bastard away on a permanent basis. If Damien makes any kind of move, the world’s going to get a good look at all his secrets, and I’ve made sure he fucking knows it.”

  Payne seemed to take a moment to absorb this before he nodded. “All right. If that problem’s in the rearview mirror, let’s get back to Sunny coming to work for the House. Scout was pretty adamant your lady had no interest in working here, even though she reported that Sunny’s got some ideas on how to bring our brand to people all around the world. I want that, and bottom-lining it, I always get what I want. That means I want Sunny Fairfax here under this roof, working her ass off to make shit happen for the House. So I’m asking you straight up—how do we go about convincing Sunny she needs to be rescued from the cat planet, and that House Of Payne is where she needs to be?”

  The frost melted away from Ice’s smile, and a surge of anticipation made his blood heat. “Leave it to me.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I can haz your noms?”

  Sunny offered up a plate of delicate, vanilla-infused madeleines to Franklin Lennig, and tried her best to appear like she wasn’t about to throw a chair through the plate glass window behind her. “Knock yourself out.”

  Franklin took the plate and showed it to his beaming wife. “Yay, noms.”

  Oy.

  This was not how her day was supposed to be going.

  Sunny had gone into work early to prepare for their weekly meeting, only to find her employers weren’t in the mood to stay in the office. Franklin and June insisted the meeting had to be relocated to the Cat Café, and her protest that she couldn’t do a PowerPoint presentation at a freaking café fell on deaf ears.

  It didn’t take her long to realize she probably should have just slept in.

  At first she tried to keep everyone focused on the roll-out for the new holiday ads. Her plans were almost immediately sidetracked, however, when a pudgy, purring calico zeroed in on her and launched itself onto her lap. Just her luck, of course. Of all the cat-crazy people she was with, this friendly ball of long-haired fluff had chosen her lap to use as its personal throne. From that moment on, the LOLcat language had begun to flow, and her hopes of getting work done faded into nothing.

  “You knowz da kittehs choose da hoomins, not da other way around.” Mary Pat dangled a little cat toy in front of the calico, who sniffed curiously at it before turning away to rub against Sunny’s hand. “Aw, look at that sweet little nugget! More pets, hoomin. Dat’s what she’s sayin’ to you, Sunny. No play, more pets right meow.”

  “Right. More pets.” Oh God, now she was doing it. If she started talking baby talk and attributing it to a cat, she’d voluntarily commit herself to the nearest psychiatric ward. “So, just to let everyone know, the newsletter announcing our holiday boxes went out Friday night, as scheduled. We had over eighty-percent of our newsletter followers click through to read, which is a phenomenal rate. Even better, the sales numbers on the special holiday boxes went through the roof over the weekend, as did the number of new subscriptions. Building up our newsletter list has been one of the most successful tools we’ve used to drive our sales this year.”

  “Aw, lookie at the pawsies making biscuits on Sunny’s leg.” Bob, wearing a black and yellow plaid blazer over a T-shirt sporting a cat dressed as Superman, cupped his chin in his hand and made kissy noises at the kneading cat. “Widdle prancy pawsies. Isn’t that cute?”

  “Actually, it’s kind of painful, but I’m managing to stay on-topic.” Irritated that no one seemed to be paying attention to the task at hand—and that the kitty really was being so cute she could hardly keep her mind on the job—she cleared her throat. “Barry, let’s talk about you. I emailed you the new subscription numbers, so hopefully distribution will be able to keep up with demand. How are we doing on the supply chain? Any issues?”

  Barry, their warehouse manager, pinched off a bit of his breakfast sandwich to hold it out to the calico. “Who’s a pretty girl? You hungry, pretty girl? You can haz all da noms.”

  “Barry, stop that,” June hissed.

  Sunny turned a grateful smile her way. “Thank you, June.”

  “Of course.” June scowled pure death at Barry. “You know you’re not supposed to feed the kitties in here. They’ll never allow us back in if you keep that up.”

  Oh, for crying out loud.

  “To be kicked out of the Cat Café would be the worst thing ever,” Mary Pat whispered, eyes wide with what looked to be panic. “For the love of Bast, Barry, stop.”

  “But she’s so cute—”

  “Okay, that’s it. I can’t work like this.” Resolutely Sunny picked the calico up off her lap—another broken rule, as customers weren’t allowed to pick up the café’s feline residents—and set it down on the floor. “We are professionals, people. We’re supposed to take pride in our work. We’re supposed to make progress with each passing day toward a greater goal—to be the best company out there. And we can do that, because IBKC is brilliant at what it does. It fills a niche that had been crying out to be filled. But let me be clear—talking baby talk at a staff meeting isn’t going to cut it. We need to demand better of ourselves and each other. We need to be more professional.”

  The moment she stopped talking, the calico jumped back up into her lap, plume-like tail high, and mewed up at her with ridiculous sweetness.

  “Awwwwww,” said the entire table.

  Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now…

  “Why don’t I order everyone a round of mimosas? They actually come with a sprig of catnip in it—harmless to humans, or course, but the kitties love it. Isn’t that adorable?” All smiles, June gestured toward their server, then made a sound of pleased surprise. “Look, Ice made it just in time! When I invited him to join us this morning, I wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it, knowing how rush-hour traffic can be around here.”

  “Wait, what? You invited Ice? To our staff meeting?” With every muscle in her body seizing up, Sunny whipped her head around to watch Ice slowly make his way toward their large table in the corner, pausing every now and again to pet kitties that lounged on various structures built just for them. “Why in the world would you invite Ice to a staff meeting?”

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet, sweetheart? This is really more of a breakfast out with friends than an actual meeting,” June said with an airy wave of her hand. “I know you came in early to get work done, and I admire that go-go work ethic. But this is so much more fun, don’t you think? I’m sure you can put your business points in an email and send it to all of us, right?”

  Emails no one would bother to read, but she couldn’t blow up about that now. Not when she had Ice’s presence to blow up about.

  “This place is awesome, June. Thanks for inviting me to breakfast.” Pulling up a chair, he sat beside Sunny and held out a hand for the calico to sniff. “Morning, Sunny day. Who’s your friend?”

  “A business distraction.”

  “Looks like a cat to me.”

  “Why aren’t you at work?” Sunny demanded, glancing at her watch. The
movement made the calico hook a soft paw on her hand to bring it down to be bathed. “It’s almost ten in the morning. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “Payne didn’t have a problem with me meeting you for breakfast because he’s that much of a fan of yours.” He nodded at her lap. “Call me crazy, but I think that cat loves you.”

  Aw. “It probably does this to all the patrons who come in here.”

  “Sunny’s been chosen by that fluffy little princess to be her hoomin servant.” Mary Pat sighed dreamily, and Sunny honestly didn’t know whether that dreaminess was because of Ice or because of the cat. “Some girls have all the luck.”

  “It’s always been that way with Sunny,” Ice said, absently rubbing the backs of his fingers against the calico’s cheek. “An entire room full of people would try to get Snarky’s attention, but that cat would always wind up cuddling with the one person who was usually too busy to even notice—Sunny.”

  “It’s probably because Sunny’s like a cat,” Franklin said, nodding seriously. “They understand her. She’s independent, grudgingly tolerates most human beings, and chooses only one or two people to really get close to. Like attracts like.”

  Sunny frowned while absently petting the purring interloper. “Actually, I consider myself a people person. I do public relations, which means I have to be a people person. I like everybody.”

  “Yeah, but you definitely were liking Ice more than everybody else over the weekend,” Mary Pat smirked. “Two little lovebirds sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

  What the actual hell. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Crap,” Ice muttered, shifting in his seat. “I was hoping I could talk to you about that in private, but I guess you could say the, er, cat’s out of the bag.”

  Sunny’s stomach muscles began to clench as she turned to Ice. “First, stop trying to be cute, because bad cat puns are definitely not cute.”