6. First-Day Jitters

SIX

First-Day Jitters

ETAIN

I feel like a schoolgirl on the first day of high school, and I want the cool kids to like me. Well, one cool kid in particular. For the last three and a half years, I’ve had devoted clients who would pay a monthly fee. I would either go to their place of business or set up an online Dropbox system and get them caught up, providing them with an income statement and balance sheet, and making sure the accounts were balanced with the bank. It was easy and organized, and I was proud of what I had accomplished.

It was easy to walk away, though, because the bookkeeping portion of what Robert and I had set up was all part of the legal firm and under his name. I did the work, but now he gets to keep the clients. Unfair, I know, but the only regret I have is that I’m unable to contact the clients to let them know the real reason I’m gone.

I look into the full-length mirror. I’m wearing dark gray fitted pants, a navy-blue sleeveless shirt, my hair is up in a high ponytail, and I’ve got on minimal makeup. I think I look professional and cute. I apply a dash of blush to each cheek and a pink gloss, which I slip into my purse, and then I head toward my car.

“I’ll bet you didn’t eat breakfast,” Sasha says, standing by my car with a to-go cup of coffee and a brown paper bag, the top neatly folded.

“What’s this?” I ask with a grin.

“A couple of scones, and I know how you need a cup of coffee in the morning.” She hands me my goodies.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know, but friends help each other.” In the short time I’ve known Sasha, she’s become like another sister. I’m not sure why she’s living in this small town on her own, but it looks to me like she values her solitude. She hasn’t mentioned family at all, and the only friends she speaks of are people from town. She doesn’t have a bad thing to say about anyone. Except, maybe, Robert. And even then, she calls him a lost soul who hasn’t yet discovered what’s important.

“You keep spoiling me, and I may never leave,” I tease.

“Then I’ll just have to keep spoiling you,” she says. “Have a great first day! I’m off to do my yoga, then I have to get to work.” Besides her work, I know very little about Sasha.. A pang of guilt hits me. It’s been all about me for the last couple of days. I make a note that I need to be a better friend.

What’s worse is that I don’t have any other friends. I put so much of my time and effort into helping Robert build what I thought was our future that I never made time for friends. It was work, home, and repeat. Outside of my parents and sister, I didn’t socialize much. Once in a while, Robert had to attend a function of some sort and I would be his plus one, but that’s not the same as connecting with a girlfriend and being able to confide your deepest, darkest secrets.

I’ve been driven from the day I was born, according to Dad. I had to walk early, talk early, and wreak havoc early. Mom says this is the best part of me because I know what I want and I go for it. In a way, I feel like I let her down. I let Robert pull me from my dreams, and I have to start over.

Sasha gives me a hug and waves me off as I head down the road to the garage. This is a quaint town. The main strip has a small clothing boutique, a flower shop, a bakery, a post office, and other shops that bring the town to life. On the outer edge, and that’s basically a seven-minute drive, are some of the larger stores like Walmart, Home Depot, and such, all together in an outdoor mall setting. The garage sits between the two areas.

When I went for my interview, I saw a larger building in the back of the garage that was entirely fenced in. Through Sasha, I found out the Redemption Riders call it their compound. Sasha also told me about their club parties and how they can be wild. She hasn’t been to any of them, but it’s a small town, so nothing stays buried for long.

I park my car in the empty spot near the door and hustle inside. It’s not quite eight o’clock, but I want to get in early and make a good impression. The aroma of coffee as I walk through the door leads me to a group of hot bikers hanging out and joking with one another.

“Hi, I’m Etain. The new office manager.” I stick out my hand to the man closest to me.

He takes it and grins. “Name’s Flex.” He lets go of my hand and jerks his thumb to the guy next to him. “This is Shooter,” he says, then moves along to the next man. “That’s Decker. Hawk’s in the office.” Without hesitation, the man names Flex knocks on the closed door behind him, then hands me a cup of coffee. “You’re going to want this. It’s the best coffee in town.” He’s right that I want it, mainly because I downed Sasha’s on the way over.

“Thank you. Tomorrow, it’s my turn. Do you like donuts?” I ask, lifting the cup to my lips.

“You don’t have to feed them, Ginger.” I hear Hawk’s smooth, low voice rumble. I peer over Flex’s shoulder and there he is, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. It’s not just that he’s handsome. It’s the sense of authority he exudes when he enters a room.

“I like donuts. It’s actually a selfish act. Then I can eat one and not feel guilty because it’s all in the name of team camaraderie,” I joke. The guys chuckle, and Hawk breaks out in a smile.

“Go, team,” Hawk replies and holds out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you settled.”

I take his hand and climb the steps to the office.

“Later, Red,” Shooter calls out, and I give the guys a parting wave.

Hawk has reworked the office so his desk sits at one end of the room and mine is at the other. A brand-new desk awaits me, along with a new computer. The room is still cluttered with piles of papers and files, but I can see he’s made an effort to clean up to make room for me.

“Once we finish the construction on the compound, we’re adding on to the garage. This will have to do for now,” he says.

“This works.” I put down my things, and we go over the ins and outs of the office. Hawk’s kept manual tallies of expenses, but they all have to be matched to the suppliers and packing slips, provided they’ve kept those. It’s a challenge, but I’m up for it.

I get to work, and before I know it, I’ve weeded through one drawer of files and entered the information into our new database. I ignore my stomach rumbling because I’m so fixated on what I’m doing. That is, until I feel Hawk’s presence looming over my desk.

I have to tip my head all the way back to look at his face. “Lunch,” he announces.

“Pardon?”

“You have to eat.” He comes around the desk, pulls back my chair, and hands me my purse. “Burritos okay?”

“Burritos?” I sound like a parrot.

He grins. “Do you like burritos?”

“Huh, yeah, but?—”

“Then we’ll get burritos. Jake’s makes the best. It isn’t that far, and we need a break,” Hawk says. I’ve been so immersed in my work that although I knew Hawk was in and out of the office, I had no idea what he was working on.

“Tough morning?” I ask as he walks us to his bike.

“Can’t find a part that I need for a rebuild. It’s a vintage car, and we have a ton of money sunk into it already.” He hands me a helmet.

I stare at it. “I don’t know how to ride. I can take my car.”

“A virgin rider,” he says with a sultry smile that makes my knees tremble. “I’ll take it nice and slow, babe.” I give the motorcycle another tentative glance. “It’s like a drug. Once you ride, you’ll never want to stop.”

I bite my lower lip and put my purse strap cross-body to secure it, then slip on the helmet. Hawk secures my strap before putting his own helmet on and climbing onto the bike. He takes my hand and helps me to swing my leg over and slide in behind him.

“You’ve gotta hold on,” he says. I hang on to the sides of his jacket. He takes my hands in his and moves them around to his front. I have to scootch forward with my thighs pressing against his and my chest pressed tight to his back. The scent of his cologne is a light musk and manly. The unruly waves in his dark brown hair look so soft that I want to run my fingers through them. “Keep your legs and feet away from the exhaust.” He points to a safe place where I can plant my feet.

I nod, not trusting my voice. Hawk eases out of the garage and pulls onto the main street, taking it slow at first, then gaining speed as he moves past the traffic and onto the road that leads toward a more secluded avenue. At first, my fingers are gripping so tight, they begin to ache, then Hawk says, “Relax. Look around you. This is the next best thing to flying.”

He’s right. When I begin to look around, I take in all the beauty of the trees and feel the warm wind. The rumble of the engine that scared me half to death when he started it, I now find soothing. I loosen my death grip and flatten my hands on his stomach. Even through his leather jacket, I can feel his hard, sculpted abs.

We reach our destination sooner than I would like. Hawk helps me off, then he gets off. He unsnaps my helmet. I take my hair out of the ponytail and shake it out. When I look at him, I see an expression that stuns me. His eyes are heated, his jaw is tight, and he’s staring straight at my mouth. His arm comes around my waist, and he tugs me closer to his side as we walk into the shack where he says Jake makes the best burritos.

Once inside, he doesn’t let go of me, but he does a full scan of the room. The tables are practically all taken, and there’s a line to order, but as soon as the older man behind the counter sees Hawk, he gives Hawk a wink and places a handwritten “reserved” sign on a table.

“That’s Jake,” Hawk says, leading us to the table where his friend is waiting for us. Jake pulls Hawk in for a manly hug. “Good to see you, man.”

“Ah, Hawk. It’s been too long.” Jake looks at me. “If this lovely lady has been taking up your time, I forgive you.” He chuckles, then Jake reaches out to take my hand in his then bends to kiss my cheek. “Jake Frontinac, owner of this dive, and loving every part of it.” He introduces himself with the biggest, brightest smile.

“It’s good to meet you. Hawk says I have to have the burrito experience from Jake, so hook me up,” I say, causing Hawk and Jake to laugh louder.

“Joint’s busier than ever,” Hawk says, scanning the room.

“Yeah. I can’t complain. Sit yourselves down, and I’ll get you your regular, Hawk.” Jake turns to me. “And I’ll fix you my famous burrito.”

He’s gone before I can say thank you. Hawk holds out my chair for me to sit. Even though the place doesn’t look like much from the outside, inside, it may be rustic, but it’s homey. The tables and chairs are made from repurposed wood, and the walls are a warm blue with abstract-painted hubcaps mounted on the walls. It’s unique, and I love it.

I’m loving the ambiance, but I can see that Hawk’s mood quickly shifts when several men come in through the front door wearing biker jackets a lot like the one Hawk has on, but with a different insignia. As they walk by, I see across the backs of the jackets: The Jackals, in a bold red script. I can feel the shift in Hawk’s mood. When they see us, the men turn and head in our direction, their grins turning into sneering, mocking smiles. Hawk begins to tense up.

I’m at a loss for words. The smoldering hatred radiating from Hawk is enough to make me want to bolt. “Not a word, Etain,” Hawk warns.

I haven’t even opened my mouth and have no idea what he’s referring to until a big man with a long, scraggly beard hanging down to his chest and longish blond hair half covering his face approaches the table. His legs are as thick as tree trunks, and he has a bit of a gut, but it’s the tone of his voice that sends shivers down my spine.

“Hawk.” A single word dripping with so much animosity that I feel it run through me.

“Gunner.” Hawk acknowledges the man leading the group of three.

“And who’s this? Your new little biker bunny?” Gunner asks, his focus dropping to my chest. I’m riled up and about to give this jerk a piece of my mind when Hawk reaches over to grip my hand and give me a stern expression, reminding me to keep quiet.

I avert my gaze back to Hawk, who looks right at me. “Go see if Jake has our food ready in the back.” He stands and motions for me to head to the kitchen.

“You’re not going to introduce me?” I hear Gunner ask as I step away.

“Women don’t play into our business. Never have, never will,” Hawk replies.

“I might be inclined to forget the rest of your debt if I get a couple of hours with the pretty redhead. If she gives good head, I might even owe you a favor.” Gunner breaks out in a chuckle, and his buddies do the same.

Hawk does not. “We have one more piece of business together, and that ends soon. After that, you go your way, and we’ll go ours.”

“I think we should reconsider our business agreement. The Jackals and Riders could rule this state.”

I shouldn’t be listening, but I can’t help myself.

“After the next run, we’re done,” Hawk says. He keeps talking, but Jake shows up at my side and hustles me into the back room.

Jake sees the concern on my face. “Hawk can handle himself.”

“There’s three of them.”

“Not nearly a fair fight for the Jackals. Hawk will destroy them if they try anything,” Jake replies. I gasp, and Jake says, “It won’t get that far.”

“How do you know?”

“I put a call in to Drifter as soon as I saw those punks come in.” Jake grins.

“Who are those guys, anyway?”

“The Jackals have their own club across the state border. They’re not good people. They believe in ‘ride hard and die hard’ and don’t give a shit who they hurt in the process. They’ve tried to recruit Redemption Riders to amalgamate with their club to create a bigger territory for themselves to peddle their product. Hawk and his brothers have repeatedly refused,” Jake explains, but I can see he’s only telling me part of the story.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“It’s Hawk’s story to tell. He and the other Riders are good people. I trust Hawk with my life. If you’re part of his club, he’ll make sure nothing touches you.”

“It’s not like that,” I quickly respond. “I work for Hawk. I’m the new bookkeeper for the garage. It’s not like that at all.” I shake my head.

Jake smiles. “It’s not like what?”

“Well, you know, personal,” I finish with a shrug.

“You think Hawk takes all his pretty new bookkeepers out for lunch at his favorite place, on the back of his bike?” His smile widens.

“I’ve never been on a bike. Hawk thought it would be an experience.”

“Was it?”

I can’t hide my happiness. “I loved it.”

“You’re hooked.”

I feel my cheeks heat up.

“Do you know what it means when a biker puts a woman on the back of his bike?” Jake asks. When I look confused, he says, “It means the woman means something to him.”

I’m about to ask Jake to explain when a hand lands on the small of my back. I twirl around to see Hawk there, looking none too happy, but his attention is fixed on Jake. “Food ready yet?”

“Coming right up,” Jake replies, and adds, “Boys are on their way.”

“Yeah, I know. Drifter sent me a text. Better make enough for the guys too,” Hawk says.

“Already thought of that. Gunner and his goons still around?” he asks.

“Yep.” Hawk sighs, but doesn’t say another word.

“He’s enough to give anyone indigestion. Come with me,” he says, and we follow him through the back door, where a picnic table sits under a tree. “You and the guys can eat out here.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Jake takes off back inside, leaving Hawk and me alone. “I’m sorry about ruining your first time at Jake’s.”

“Eating alfresco is so much better than in a stuffy diner,” I tell him, trying to lighten the mood.

“Those guys are trouble, but you’re safe. No one touches you. I swear,” Hawk says in a serious tone.

“What do they want with you?”

“It’s club business, babe, and you don’t factor into it.”

“Is it, uh, safe?” I murmur.

“It’s not the best situation, and not the worst. It’ll be over soon, and with any luck, I’ll never have to see Gunner or his boys again.”

Jake runs back out and puts down a red checkered tablecloth. One of his staff puts two laden plates down along with two beers. Jake and his helper are here and gone in no time. Although I want to ask Hawk more about the Jackals, it’s clear that Hawk isn’t talking, so I change the subject.

Hawk urges me to take a bite of the delicious-looking burrito, and when I do, an explosion of flavors bursts in my mouth. My eyes grow wide, and I let out a groan. “Oh my God!”

“Told you,” he gloats and takes a bite of his own.

Not long after, Drifter and some of the other guys join us. They joke and laugh, and I forget that inside sits a table of Jackals, until I feel eyes on me. I jerk my head to the gate that separates the diner from where we’re sitting. Gunner is staring right at me. A shudder of disgust runs right through me. It’s not that he’s ugly. As a matter of fact, he would be handsome if he did something with his overgrown, scraggly, blond beard, and cut his hair in a style that would complement his rugged face. I take in a harsh breath, alerting Hawk beside me.

“We’re gone,” he tells the guys. “We ride two, three, two. The others ride behind us.” Then he takes me gently by the arm and leads us back to his bike. He reaches for my helmet, but before he puts it on me, he says, “No one touches my Ginger.”