Dirty Sexy Inked (Dirty Sexy 2)

As exciting as the opportunity sounded, she still didn’t understand how she fit into that way of thinking. Wouldn’t they at least want someone with a degree? “Blake . . .I didn’t go to college, and I’ve never worked for a big company. I’m pretty good with Photoshop and a few other graphic design programs, but I’m not sure that’s enough for an ad agency as big or reputable as yours.”

He smiled. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be sitting here asking if you’d be interested in the job if I didn’t think you were a good fit for Cavanaugh and Zimmerman. Would I like to go out on a date with you? Absolutely. But one has nothing to do with the other. Right now, at this moment, my interest in you is all business. I don’t want you to think that one thing hinges on the other. And from what I know and have seen, you are more than enough for what we want as a junior graphic designer.”

Just as he finished his comment, their meals arrived, and yes, her fancy Tagliatelle Bolognese did resemble something that looked like an Italian meal to her. The waiter grated fresh parmesan over her pasta, refilled their wineglasses, and once Blake assured him that everything was great, the guy moved on to another table.

Once their server was gone and they were alone again, Katrina asked a question she was very curious about. “So, what do you know about me and what have you seen to give you the indication that I’d be a good fit for your agency?” If she was even going to consider this proposition, then she needed to be reassured that he really did know her strengths and limitations in regard to the position he was offering.

“Good question,” he said, seemingly impressed with her inquiry as he cut into a braised short rib. “I’ve been coming to Inked for over six months now. As for what I know about you, Caleb has been very talkative during my many sessions, and he’s answered a lot of my questions about you. According to him, you’re the reason the shop runs as smoothly as it does, so that tells me you’ve got a great work ethic. And I’ve watched you in action with other customers and how you manage the shop while I’m there, too.”

“Stalker much?” she teased.

He chuckled as he took a bite of the vegetables accompanying his meat. “It’s called scoping out a potential prospect.”

She twirled her strands of pasta around her fork. “Managing a tattoo shop has nothing to do with working for an ad agency.”

“True, but I know that you’re someone who will always strive to better herself, and those are the kinds of qualities that are important in the people I hire.” He hesitated for a moment as he drank his wine, then continued. “What I’ve also seen is your freehand artwork, in your personal album and what’s pinned on the gallery wall in the shop. Every time I come in, I look to see what you’ve done that’s new. And every time, I’m impressed as hell with your designs and creativity.”

She glanced down at her plate, her face warming at the thought of how thoroughly he’d been analyzing her as a potential employee for his agency. And she suddenly had a bout of insecurities. “I’m just not sure that my art and designs at Inked will translate to what you need for an ad agency.”

“I’m sure, and that’s all that matters,” he said confidently. “I’m known for bringing in untrained and inexperienced employees when I see the kind of talent that meshes well with our agency. I’ve rarely been wrong about the people I’ve handpicked to hire. In fact, most of those employees have become the backbone of the company and are the ones who are continually bringing a new and fresh perspective to ad campaigns and marketing ideas.”

Despite her slight concerns about not having any experience in the field, she found that the idea was starting to tempt her. “You’re so damn persuasive,” she said with a shake of her head.

He shrugged unapologetically. “I know what I want, and I’m pretty determined about getting my way if it’s important enough.”

She couldn’t help but feel flattered—that he believed so unconditionally in her ability to fit in so well with his company. They finished their dinners, and after the waiter cleared away their dishes, Blake glanced across the table and met her gaze.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

She exhaled a deep breath. The offer was incredibly generous, exciting even, but it was also so unexpected. Without a doubt, she knew that finding a new job was imperative to her friendship with Mason,

and her heart and emotions, but she’d never been one to jump into something without really thinking things through.

“I really appreciate your job offer, and I’m very interested,” she said respectfully. “But I can’t give you a definite decision right this second.”

“I don’t expect you to.” His tone was understanding. “Take a week and think about everything I’ve said, and consider the growth and opportunities with an ad agency that is one of the top ten firms in Chicago. And I know we didn’t discuss pay, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Thank you,” she said appreciatively, realizing there really was no downside to taking the job. Even still, she’d take the one-week time frame to make sure a new career in advertising was what she really wanted.

“So, enough business,” he said in a more upbeat tone as a sexy smile curved his lips. “I’m more interested in getting to the pillow talk.”

Of course he was. Playing along, she leaned forward in her chair and whispered in a provocative voice, “Want to know my version of seductive pillow talk?”

He angled closer, too, his eyes a deep, dark brown as he stared intently at her. “Absolutely,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes, slowly licked her lips, then opened them again and teased him. “I need chocolate dessert.” She sighed and smiled mischievously. “That’s about as hot as pillow talk gets for me.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not about to deprive any woman of having dessert. Besides, it’s a win-win situation. You get to eat it, and I get to watch.”

As long as he didn’t touch, they were all good.

Chapter Nine

Mason sat alone at the far end of the bar at Kincaid’s and nursed a bottle of Sam Adams while debating if he should move on to something stronger so he’d stop thinking about Katrina on her date with Blake, and what they might be doing. If the guy was kissing her, touching her, making a move on her . . . Fuck. The troubling thought made him want to plant his fist into something hard to release some of the pent-up frustration building inside him.

“Well, this is a first,” Mason heard his brother, Levi, drawl just before he sat down in the vacant chair next to his.

“What’s a first?” Mason asked irritably, in no mood for his younger brother’s goody-two-shoes commentary.