Page 49 of Feint

“I hope you guys have fun!” I smiled at Dad and started to go through another drawer when I heard footsteps.

“There you are. Should have known you two would be together.” Mom’s voice rang out into the shop.

My mom, Rose Wells, was as stunning tonight as always. She was wearing black leather pants, a black skintight shirt, and her signature red leather cropped moto-style jacket. Dad’s expression showed that he was completely head over heels for her.

I turned and walked over to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She smiled at me and then looked over at Dad.

“Hey, Rosalie. If you two are done here, I’m ready to go when you are.”

Dad hopped up from his stool. “Well, gotta go, kiddo! Lock up when you leave!”

He walked over to Mom and kissed her, and they walked out, their arms around each other’s back as they started chattingabout the night. Gosh darn, they were too cute for their own good. I giggled and turned my attention to finish this shelf’s inventory.

I cranked up the music and moved to the beat as I went through drawer after drawer. Shade 45’s station always had good artists on it, new and old school. It was easy to fly through tedious chores while listening to hip-hop.

And so it was no surprise really that I didn't hear the bike roll into the shop when “Godzilla” by Eminem was blasting, but I nearly jumped straight out of my skin when I turned around to see a big biker guy standing in the doorway to the paint shop. And my shriek was drowned out by the music—thank God. I placed my hand over my heart as I caught my breath and turned the volume waaay down.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t hear you pull up! What can I do for you?”

I walked over to the man and saw a bike parked in the shop bay. I turned my attention back toward him and smiled. He had a reddish-brown beard that was trimmed well, dark green eyes, and tanned skin covered in tattoos. His cut was sleeveless denim, and I didn't recognize the patch on the front.

“Well, girl, I heard from the vice president that if I wanted to get my bike painted, you were the one to come down and see.” His voice was deep and smooth.

He seemed like a good enough guy, and if Kordell had sent him my way, then he must be a friend of his.

“Yeah, I can do bikes! Is that the one you want a paint job on?” I pointed to the gray bike sitting out of the room.

He nodded and turned, starting to walk over to it. I followed next to him.

It wasn’t a sports bike; it reminded me of the bikes Bonnie rode. Chopper-style, and it had long handlebars. I walked around it, looking over it carefully. Its current paint job wasn’ttoo rough. I should be able to prep it and paint it tonight, depending on what he wanted.

“So, what were you thinking?” I asked as I came to a stop next to him again, and we both looked at the bike.

“I was thinking of a dark red. I want a bike that has some depth to it, so can we do a red with another lighter color? Not really caring too much about the design itself, just nothing too city. I live in the county, and I’ll die in the county.” He spoke as he touched the handlebars.

I started to think of some ideas. That would be nice… but I wanted to really flesh this out.

“Okay, so we kinda have a couple of options. We could spray the base coat today, which I do have a classic dark crimson or a deep flake red, so your choice out of those. And you can come back later for the livery part, and I’ll have a few detailed ideas drawn up. Or you could leave it here and I can text you ideas.”

I stood in the shop, looking at him with a smile on my face, waiting for his answer as a breeze from the big bay door blew in. Mmm, it was a beautiful day today. The breeze was even warm.

“Let’s do the first option. I don’t have anyone that can pick me up tonight.”

He walked back over to me. Gosh, he was big, like a wall of muscles.

I pointed over to the paint area. “Okay then, let’s go pick your base color, and then you can go ahead and chill in the loft. Won’t be longer than an hour or two before it’s all done!”

And we did. He selected the deep flake. But instead of going up and relaxing in the waiting area, he grabbed a stool and parked it by the paint room to watch.

“You are very good at this. He wasn’t lying.”

He watched as I started to spray the gas tank on his bike. I had taped off the parts that weren’t getting sprayed and would paint things still attached to the bike to help save time sincehe’d told me he was in a time crunch. I hated doing it this way, but he’d said he didn't care about parts that weren't going to be visible.

“Thanks! I love doing it. Every new project is a new challenge and a new way to be creative! I’ve never done two similar custom projects yet, and it’s awesome, working here.”

I had just done the second covering of the tank as he continued.

“So, how long have you and the vice president been together? And is it an exclusive thing, or does he like to share?”

---