From Bully To Beloved

“And don’t you have work?”

“Believe it or not, I have the day off,” she says with a smile. “The two new waitresses caught on quicker than we thought and are running tables themselves. Marie gave me today and tomorrow off.”

“Good for you. Since we started living together, I’ve never seen you have two days off in a row. What are you going to do with your well-deserved free time?”

“Well, all the food is seasoned and prepped. I figured I’d straighten up around here and make sure everything is all set for tonight.”

“Thanks, Sera, but everything looks good already. Is there anything I can do so you can take the rest of the day for yourself?”

“But you said this dinner was important. I don’t want to drop the ball.”

“Sera, you’re not dropping the ball. It’s not even yours to drop.” I move around the couch and sit beside her. “Look, you have nothing to worry about. They already invested. This is just a chance for us to meet face to face, and for me to tell them the status of their investment. They’ve already put up the money. There isn’t anything on the line, except for a few new ideas I have that aren’t really important. I’m pretty sure Mr. Osborn will be quite pleased, no matter the outcome of the evening. Don’t stress, he won’t back out if he doesn’t like your faux prime rib. Besides, I’m the one who needs to be the charming host. Which we both know I can handle.”

There’s a smile on her lips. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me.” She shrugs, closing her sketchbook and setting it on the coffee table. “Okay, anxiety is put away now. Goodbye.” She leans back against the couch, picking up her coffee mug and holding it between her hands.

We discuss several topics that may come up during the dinner. It’s not like we’re strangers, but we agree on some important cornerstones to make our romantic relationship believable. The official reason-in case somebody asks-as to why we don’t wear rings is because for us, the commitment itself is important, not the ring that’s attached to it. That’s BS, for sure. I very much believe in wearing a wedding band as a symbol. Not for a real-fake marriage, of course. However, I don’t expect any of this to come up. Mr. Osborn is a “strictly business guy,” and we have plenty of things to discuss that isn’t our private life.

“I’m really excited about the food tonight.”

“I’m excited too. I’m sure it’s going to be delicious.” I check my watch. “All right, gotta go. Text me if you need anything. I should be home by five.”

With Charlie working his ass off and a stellar crew, we’ve quickly jumped ahead of schedule. Shipments of bikes have been arriving every day. Justin and I have been going through each one, making sure the bikes showcased on the lot are in top condition. The showroom is finished and ready with the best of the best. The administration crew is already hard at work, and over the next few days, we’ll have a full sales staff. Justin handles the majority of the work, doing an excellent job in that manager role I knew he was born for.

“Hi, chief! How’s things?” Charlie greets me with a cheeky grin, his hair giving the word “disheveled” a whole new meaning, and he shows me around. The large vehicles and construction equipment have been cleared out. With only a little left to do, a small skeleton crew remains to finish the final touches.

The day is filled with meetings and training. While Justin is handling the dealership side of things at the moment, I’m filling in to finish the repair shop as well as the specialized store element for custom bikes and tailor-made parts. I’ll be glad when the dealership officially opens, and I can go back to focusing on my bikes and finding a new place to settle in. I need to get a realtor looking for a new place. With the way NYC realty is, not to mention the terms of the will, it’s going to take a while.

At the end of the day, Justin swings by.

He holds up his phone, showing a black CB750. “I stumbled upon this vintage gem hidden in a collector’s barn. After giving it a bit of TLC, cleaning the carbs out and adding fresh gas, the engine roared to life. It’s a Honda,” he brags, in reference to the brand’s legendary reliability.

“It’s a beauty.” I nod. “Once we have a firm opening date set for next month, get another invite out to Jake Whitlock fromRevved Up.”

“It’s hard to get to him directly.”

“Do whatever it takes.” A feature article in Jake’s magazine has ten times the impact of all the other BS outsider’s journals, which are often filled with nonsense by media and non-riders.

“Will do. Speaking of beauty. Any word from Kelly yet?” he asks.

“I just gave your number to Sera, be patient.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He nods. “She can’t text me right away, otherwise I’ll think she’s desperate. No worries. She seems like a good girl, a shy girl even, and I have to tread carefully. But you know what they say about shy girls. Hope her dad doesn’t have a heart attack the day I pick her up on my Ducati. Oh, well. Anyway. It’s cute that she’s putting so much thought into it. Bet she’s not sure what to text me. Lies awake all night, wondering about me, analyzing every word, ha-ha.”

“Well, that, and Sera hasn’t even passed on your number to her yet. She told me Kelly is busy with family.”

“Oh. Got it. Thanks, bro.”

“Hang on.” I stop him as he turns to leave. “I’ve got another message for you. From Sera.”

He groans, knowing full well it won’t be a gentle message of universal forgiveness.

I grin to myself, but can’t quite hide my pitying look. I know what it’s like to be under Sera’s scrutiny. “If I were you, I’d watch my balls because next time you see her, you might find yourself six feet under, without them.”

Is he really getting pale? No, he’s not. “I guess my only hope is to win Kelly over quickly so I can persuade her to put in a good word for me.”