Chapter 11 #2
I shoot him a picture of the bike.
Hannah
I’d love to, but I’ve had my eye on this baby for a week. Trying to work out a deal now.
Sean
Is that a Ducati?
The server approaches my table, and I quickly give her my order, then go back to my text.
Hannah
Yes! Gah. I love it.
Sean
Damn, that’s a sweet ride.
Hannah
I know right? Anyways, I can work with you tomorrow.
Sean
I’ll just hit up Aiden.
Hannah
He can’t meet up with you either. He’s at the Ducati dealership negotiating for me. Just wait until tomorrow and I’ll work with you.
Sean
I thought you were at the dealership.
Hannah
I was but now I’m at the cafe next door while Aiden handles business.
Bubbles appear, then disappear, appear, then disappear again.
I hop out of our text and pull up my kindle app.
Nestled into the back corner of the cafe, I deeply immerse myself into House of Byrne by H.B.
Elliott, completely enamored by the nerdy mafia character that I’ve deemed as Delicious Declan while eating my meal.
When my plate is cleared, and I realize I’ve been sitting here entirely too long, I check the time and see it’s been a couple of hours.
Catching my server’s attention, I pay, then head back to the dealership. Just as I walk in the door, two big hockey players come walking out of the office.
What the hell is Sean doing here?
“I had it under control, Mac,” Aiden hisses as they approach me.
“You were sinking like the fucking Titanic. Plus, her business isn’t yours to have under control,” Sean argues quietly, spinning the key ring around his finger before tossing the keys to me. “Catch.”
I fumble the keys, and they clatter to the ground. Scooping them up, I glance between the two men. “What the hell is going on?”
With a white glittery helmet in one hand and a couple of shopping bags in the other, Aiden swings an arm in Sean’s direction. “This possessive asshole just turned you into a polygamist.”
“Bailed you out though, didn’t I?”
I can’t even with them. Pocketing the keys, I head toward the office.
“Where are you going?” they both ask at the same time, stopping me in my tracks.
“Where does it look like I’m going?” I throw my hands up, walking backwards. “I’m going to pay for my bike.”
“It’s taken care of,” Sean argues.
Oh no. No, no, no. Nobody is paying for my shit! I spin back around and continue toward the office, but before I make it to the door, a strong hand grabs my wrist.
Trying to jerk out of Sean’s hold, I pin him with a glare. “You’re not paying for my bike, Sean. I swear to God, if you don’t let me go, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
“You’ll what? Make a scene? I worked out a deal. If you go in there, you’ll ruin it and pay full price.”
“You don’t know that. Besides I don’t want you doing me any favors.”
“Oh, but it’s perfectly fine for Aiden to do favors for you?” Letting go of my wrist, he begins to walk toward the front of the showroom, shaking his head, then stops and turns around. “You know what? Go ahead. Shoot your shot. See what happens. I don’t know why I even try.”
“I didn’t ask you to do this.”
He strides back to where I’m standing until the toes of his shoes kiss mine. “No, because you always run to him.”
Giving me his back once again, I watch as he walks toward the front and pushes the glass door open, disappearing out of sight.
“Come on, Han-Han. He’ll cool off,” Aiden says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and coaxing me toward the bike. “Next time someone does something nice for you, the polite thing to say would be ‘thank you’.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. I was flailing in there. The minute Brad saw Sean, his eyes lit up.”
My shoulders drop in defeat. “I don’t want him dropping money on me,” I whisper, careful to keep others from hearing our conversation.
“He didn’t pay a single dime for that bike. He traded his time.”
Confused, I look up at my best friend. “What do you mean traded his time?”
“Exactly what I said. He traded his time. It was worth more,” he states, pushing my bike out of the dealership as I hold open the door.
“Offered to be in a few commercials, and the owner saw dollar signs. I don’t have the clout Mac has, Hannah.
Brad saw me and thought ‘this rich boy can pay full price,’ but when Sean walked in and started making offers, Brad called up the owner.
Sean’s face will sell a lot of bikes for them,” he says, placing the helmet on my head.
Feeling like a jerk, I lower the visor in an attempt to shield my shameful eyes from Aiden.
“I should probably apologize.” My voice echoes inside the helmet.
He reaches out and flips my visor back up, forcing me to lock eyes with him. “You should. And while you’re at it, ask him to dinner one night as a thank you for saving your ass a hundred thousand dollars.”
“I’m not trading a date for a bike like a fucking prostitute.”
“It’s dinner, not a blowjob, Han-Han.”
Rolling my eyes, I swat him on the chest with the back of my hand. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
“Yours, darlin’. Always yours. Which if you opened your damn eyes, you’d see that also happens to be the same side Sean’s on . . . fuck . . . I swore to myself I’d stay out of it . . .” Trailing off, he shakes his head.
I toss one leg over the bike and park my ass on the seat. Aiden pulls a backpack out of the shopping bag, takes out the paper stuffing, and hands the backpack to me. I shove my purse into it, then pull the straps over my shoulders.
“Stop being hateful to him,” Aiden surprises me by saying, and before I can open my mouth to speak, he slams my visor closed, shutting me up. “And give him another chance.”
So much for staying out of it.
“Love you!” he calls out, walking to his car. “I’ll run this stuff to your house later.”
“Thank you. Love you,” I say with a wave, even though he’s too far to hear me.
I fire up the bike and watch as Aiden folds himself into his driver’s seat. Then I take off onto the side street, weaving in and out of traffic. Cars blur, my t-shirt ripples, whips, and flaps, and a rush surges through my veins.
Ah, this is the life!