Page 21 of Ice Darling
Cordelia considers my daughter with a more serious look. “My bike’s a CVO Glide, but it’s not going to be in any of the books or even in the motorcycle magazines. It’s last year’s limited edition.”
Gordie’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“They only produced a few to celebrate their anniversary.” Cordelia pulls her phone out of her pocket, scrolls to a picture, and hesitantly offers it to Gordie. “There’s the serial number.”
“Cool!” my daughter raves.
Expensive,I think.
A lady who can get her hands on a limited edition Harley Davidson is not the kind of lady I can court, even if I wanted to.
Which I don’t.
It’s just one more reason on the dog pile of reasons why I should stay away from Cordelia Davenport.
“Gordie,” I get my daughter’s attention, “Miss Davenport needs to go back to work. She doesn’t have time to talk about?—”
“I don’t mind,” Cordelia says, shocking the breath out of me. She takes a hesitant step toward my daughter. “The bike also came with this replica keychain.” Cordelia takes out her wallet and unclips a small motorcycle trinket.
“It’s so pretty!”
“If you like it…you can have it,” Cordelia offers. I notice her hand shaking as she extends the toy to Gordie.
“Really?” My daughter beams. “Thank you.”
Her shoulders hiked up to her ears relax a bit. “You said you read about the first CVO Glide?” At my daughter’s enthusiastic nod, Cordelia adds, “My bike has a lot in common with the 1999 FXR2. If you look here at this picture, you’ll see how everything wraps tightly around the engine. Unlike the Dino line that has more space…”
My mother’s eyes glimmer as she looks at me over Gordie’s head.
I grit my teeth.
Mom whistles a tune. “Goodness me. I forgot I had an appointment. Viking, I’ll leave Gordie with you and run out real quick. I’ll be back before your lunch break ends.”
Mom leaves me alone with the ladies, confident in her matchmaking schemes.
I bet she’d be disappointed to learn that the only people who get close thanks to her little setup are Cordelia and Gordie. Ispend the rest of lunch listening to them chat about bikes and pretty much forgetting that I exist.
It’s not until I get up to pay the bill that Cordelia startles. “Oh, I’ll get it.”
The mechanic goes for her wallet, and I stiffen, deeply offended. “Put your hand down, ma’am.”
“I insist.”
“I won’t ask again.”
“I should at least pay my share,” she says, glancing down at the fries she ordered somewhere between their discussion on the difference between internal and external combustion engines.
I pretend not to have heard and make my way to the counter.
Unfortunately, I hear the thud of soft, booted feet behind me.
I sigh. The woman is more stubborn than a defenseman with a grudge.
“How’s it going, Mr. Renthrow?” Shaina says from behind the counter, giving me a big smile. “I hope you’re not upset about what went down today. Your mom paid me fifty bucks to seat you two together.”
“It’s okay, Shaina. But a heads-up would have been nice.”
“You got it. I’ll switch my loyalties.” She rubs her fingers together. “For a price.”
