Читать книгу Tame a Wild Stallion - Deborah Fletcher Mello - Страница 11

Luke Stallion was seated in his brother’s leather executive chair when Mark entered his office. The younger sibling was flipping through a pile of papers, a look of bewilderment painting his expression. Mark chuckled under his breath as he stood in the doorway, watching the young man try to make sense of the stack of business documents before him.

“Is it that bad?” Mark finally asked, breaking the silence.

Luke jumped in his seat, obviously startled from deep thoughts. “Hey! When did you get here?”

Mark laughed. “Not long. You looked like you were doing something important. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Luke shrugged, dropping the pile of reports back to the desktop as he rose. “It’s the quarterly numbers for the entire corporation. John wants me to run an analysis on them. He says that if I understand the numbers, then I’ll understand which strategies work for the company and which ones don’t.”

Mark laughed again, his head bobbing up and down. “It’s not that bad. He made us all do it one time or another.”

“Anyone heard from him?” Luke asked as Mark moved behind the desk to reclaim his seat.

His brother shook his head. “His wife took him away for a long weekend. No one wants to hear from him. Marah would hurt him if he tried to call and check up on business.”

Luke chuckled. “I know that’s right. So what have you been up to? No one heard from you this weekend.”

“A group of us went up to Big Piney Creek and did some white-water rafting.”

“You’re at the bike festival one week, kayaking the next. You’re living large, bro! And what’s this I hear about the company sponsoring a drag-racing team that you’re going to be driving for?”

Mark grinned. “Pretty slick idea, huh! I came up with that one myself.”

Luke rolled his eyes skyward. “Like that wasn’t hard to figure out. I’m just surprised that John approved it.”

“He hasn’t. At least, not yet. We didn’t think we needed to bother him with the details.”

Luke raised one eyebrow questioningly. “Who’s we?”

“Me, Matthew, and now you. It’s a unanimous decision.”

Luke rolled his eyes a second time. “Thanks for letting me know that I approved.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And Matthew went along with all of this?” Luke questioned, knowing the answer before his brother could get the words past his lips.

“Yep.”

Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you bribe him or was it blackmail?”

Mark chuckled. “You really have the wrong impression about me, little brother. Sometimes you just have to take advantage of those unexpected opportunities that drop into your lap.”

“And what was the name of this unexpected opportunity?”

Mark laughed again. “Stacy something-or-other. Matthew sort of got himself tangled between her and her sister Taylor. See, what it is was…”

Luke held up a hand, stalling the tall tale he knew his brother was about to spin. “Spare me the details,” he said with a wry laugh, his brother laughing with him.

“But a racing team’s a pretty risky venture, isn’t it? And I’m not just talking about the financial risk,” Luke said.

Mark shrugged, his broad shoulders pushing up toward his earlobes. “Life’s too short to waste sitting around. You need to come hang out with me for a while and enjoy it a little more.”

“Life’s too short to be taking any unnecessary chances with these here bones. I think I’ll just stick to the safe sports. Chess, pool, bingo. Those are good enough for me.”

Mark laughed loudly, the warmth of it reverberating around the room, his brother laughing with him. A thought suddenly flooded his mind. He leaned forward in his seat, his hands folded beneath his chin as he rested his elbows against the desktop. “Luke, I met your mechanic friend, Mitch. Why you been holding out on us, boy? What’s up that you had to keep that woman a secret?”

Luke’s grin widened. “No secrets here. There was nothing to tell. Michelle’s just a friend I met in school.”

“A good friend?”

“I like to think so.”

“So you two have something going on?”

Luke laughed. “Why are you asking?”

Mark leaned back in his seat. “Just curious,” he said, fighting to keep his face from showing any emotion.

“Uh-huh. Well, no, it’s not like that between us. We hang out together every now and then but it’s definitely nothing romantic.”

“Was it ever?”

“No. Why? Are you interested?”

Mark shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “She was interesting,” he said, his eye flitting back and forth as he purposely avoided his brother’s gaze. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her a little better.”

Luke folded his arms over his chest, a raised eyebrow studying his brother carefully. Mark’s reputation with women was scandalous. His love-’em-and-leave-’ em attitude had left many a broken heart across the great state of Texas, the whole Eastern Seaboard and some international territories as well.

Luke shook his head from side to side. “Michelle’s not that kind of girl.”

“Why does it have to be like that?” Mark asked, his tone voicing his annoyance at his brother’s presumptions. “I can’t just get to know a nice girl?”

“I’m sure you’ve gotten to know a few of them. That’s half your problem. Michelle deserves a nice guy and there ain’t nothing nice about you, big brother.”

Mark pretended to pout. “My feelings are hurt.”

“I doubt it,” Luke said.

“You don’t give me any credit. John was just saying that I might meet me a nice girl like Marah and really start to think about settling down. Mitch might be that girl, but how will I know if you’re going to stand in the way of my getting to know her and letting her get to know me? She might actually like me.”

“She might and then again…” Luke’s voice dropped off, his eyes rolling skyward as he teased his sibling.

Mark chuckled. “So, are you going to put in a good word for me or not?”

Moving toward the door, Luke said nothing. As he paused in the entrance, he turned back to face his brother. “I’ll give it some thought and let you know,” he said finally.

Mark chuckled again, lifting that stack of papers from the desktop. “Fine. Be like that,” he said. “And here I was going to help you with your analysis.” He held the documents out toward Luke.

“That is so like you,” Luke said, taking the papers from his hand. “I should have known you’d resort to bribery,” he teased.

Mark laughed. “Did it work?”

Luke laughed with him. “Oh, heck, yeah!”

“That’s what I thought. So when do I get your girl’s telephone number?”

Luke’s eyes widened with amusement. “Did you get Marah’s e-mail?”

Mark looked confused. “What does Marah have to do—”

“Did you get Marah’s message about her meet and greet at the club?” Luke asked again, interrupting his brother.

Mark nodded. “Yeah. So?”

“Make sure you’re there.”

“Why?”

“Because Michelle will be. Then you can ask her for her telephone number yourself.”

Mark stared at his brother thoughtfully, a bright smile warming his face. He pointed his index finger in the man’s direction. “Now who’s bribing who!” he exclaimed cheerfully.

Luke grinned back. “Now, about those numbers…”

It just might be a nice gig, Michelle thought to herself as she read the formal letter that had come to her via express mail. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be. She had purposely ignored the document at first but, Simon being Simon, he had pulled it from the trash bin where she’d thrown it and had waved it wildly for her attention.

Michelle read the details for the hundredth time, her emotions waffling back and forth as she mulled over the possibilities. Had she even anticipated this happening to her when she’d gotten up that morning she would have rolled back under the covers and stayed there. She hadn’t been at all prepared for the business opportunity that happenstance had just afforded her.

It wasn’t every day that a woman was offered the position of head mechanic for a NHRA Pro Stock motorcycle team and Michelle could now say that she’d not only been offered the position, but that the offer had come with an endorsement from a former president of the NHRA. Not bad for the little girl most thought would never find her way back to the racing tracks after her father’s untimely death years earlier.

Michelle had been her father’s protégée, Brent Mitchell Coleman teaching her everything about the mechanical operations of an engine. Michelle had doted on the man, following him around like a second shadow from the moment she could walk and talk. Her mother had disappeared from their lives before Michelle’s fifth birthday and her father had become the center of her world.

As a little girl, a garage had been Michelle’s playground, pneumatic air tools the toys she played with. By the time she was sixteen years old Michelle could overhaul an automobile engine like a seasoned professional, her skills outranking those of many grown men.

Over the years her father had raced anything on wheels but motorcycles had been his first love. Michelle remembered well the day her father had received his own formal invitational letter to drive a bike for one of the most prestigious Pro Stock motorcycle teams in competition. The two had celebrated with a large pepperoni pizza and ice cold bottles of Corona beer.

Both Michelle and Simon had been a part of the pit crew, maintaining her father’s bike and keeping him on track. The accident had been a fluke of sorts, coming just before one of the largest national races. The win would have ranked her father as the number one seeded driver in the nation and Michelle had been sure he would win. Instead, the fatal crash had ended all of their dreams and left Michelle completely devastated. She was still haunted by the memory of the brake line that was found mysteriously severed. The formal investigation had ruled it an accident, but Michelle had always been convinced that accidents like that didn’t just happen without a little outside help. She still blamed herself for not double-checking her father’s bike one last time.

Michelle heaved a deep sigh, folding the formal document back into the legal-size envelope it had been delivered in. Tossing it back on the counter, she returned to the inventory she’d been taking, her focus on the box of gaskets and pipes she’d been counting.

Simon was still eyeing her from across the room, waiting hopefully for a reaction that he knew Michelle wasn’t going to show. Never one to be outwardly demonstrative, they’d all grown used to Michelle’s passive demeanor, the expressionless eyes that never gave a hint to her feelings. Simon knew that Michelle wouldn’t let him know if she were interested in the job or not until she was on the payroll. But he was excited for her and didn’t mind letting her know. The young woman’s career was definitely on target as far as he was concerned. Now, if they could only do something about her personal life.

Booting up the computer on his desk, Mark had more on his mind than he cared to have. There was a pile of client portfolios on his desk screaming for his attention. Half his day had already been shot to hell haggling with his younger brother, and thoughts of that woman kept creeping into his mind. That woman. Mark’s body quivered at the thought of Michelle, the cool chill racing the length of his spine having become too familiar since the two had met.

Mark was finding it difficult to rationalize what was happening to him. Never before had a woman consumed his waking moments the way Michelle Coleman kept invading his mind. Most especially a woman he’d not even had an opportunity to take to dinner yet. For crying out loud, he thought to himself, shifting in his seat. The two had only met for five short minutes, the woman barely giving him a second look. He couldn’t begin to believe how love struck he was suddenly acting.

The man shook his head vigorously to dislodge the images of Michelle from his mind. Fighting to refocus, he scanned his to-do list for the umpteenth time. At the rate things were going, he thought, the rest of his day couldn’t get any worse because things were already bad enough.

He turned his attention back to the folders before him, flipping through them casually before finally tossing his hands in the air in frustration. He was glad John was not around to give him hell for slacking off on the job. John was a true tyrant when it came to business. Typically, he was, too, but on this particular day, Mark was lacking that kind of fortitude.

If the truth were to be told, when he wasn’t thinking about Michelle, he was anxious to get down to the new athletic facility that housed Stallion Racing. The ten-bay garage had quickly become his favorite place, his home away from home as he maneuvered his way around the mechanics of the new Kawasaki motorcycles that they had recently acquired. He was anxious to get out to the track to give one a test spin around the blacktop. He was missing the squeal of brakes and the smell of burning rubber and just the thought was making him more antsy with each passing moment. He was past ready to get out of the office and the Armani suit that he swore was cutting off his circulation. But those darn folders and the documents inside would not allow him to leave.

An hour or so later his secretary buzzed for his attention. “Mr. Stallion?”

“Yes, Elena,” Mark replied, depressing the response button on the intercom.

“Vanessa Long is on line two, sir. She’s returning your call.”

“Thank you,” Mark said as Elena disconnected the speaker.

He depressed the button flashing up at him. “Hey, girl! What’s up?” Mark chimed cheerily.

“Not much, my friend. How are things with you?” Vanessa responded.

“Woman, it’s been one of those days,” he answered, chuckling under his breath. “So, how’s that new business venture starting out?” Mark asked, alluding to the new sales opportunities Vanessa had spoken about in Myrtle Beach. “You wheeling and dealing with the big boys yet?”

“Oh, yeah!” Vanessa hummed cheerily. “I’m wheeling all right. You’d be surprised what these fools will buy if they think they can get a little something-something on the side.”

Mark laughed with her. “Did you tell them your something-something is very selective?”

“Oh, I made sure they knew how selective it is, honey. Makes them want me even more, but there is absolutely no testosterone allowed on these premises.”

“Okay, there now,” Mark said, grimacing slightly. “Let’s change the subject. So what can I do for you today?”

“You called me, remember? I just got your message and was returning your call,” Vanessa said. “I think the bigger question is what can I do for you?”

Mark nodded, suddenly remembering why it was he’d called his friend in the first place. “I need an escort Friday night. Are you available?”

“Oh,” Vanessa chimed. “Black tie, I hope? I need a reason to get all dolled up.”

“Hardly, more like business chic,” Mark said, his tone denoting little interest. “It’s for some meet and greet thing my sister-in-law is hosting for her business. You remember Marah’s sister Eden, right? You met her at John and Marah’s wedding,” Mark continued, not bothering to wait for Vanessa to respond. “Well, she and Marah own that new dating service downtown. I promised I’d stop by, but I figured I might need a quick exit. Just in case. You know?”

Vanessa chuckled. “Not interested in greeting and meeting some new women? Sounds like it would be a really good time to me.”

Mark shook his head from side to side, oblivious to the fact that his friend couldn’t see him. He wasn’t interested in meeting any new women. He was only interested in meeting one woman. He was anxious for an opportunity to be in the room with his new favorite female mechanic again. But he couldn’t tell Vanessa that and so he denied having any interest at all. “You would think so. Personally, I’m not in the mood to be stuck in a room with a bunch of desperate women looking for a man.”

“They’re not all desperate for a man now,” Vanessa said with a wry laugh.

Mark groaned. “Spare me, please. Do you want to go or not? You know the routine. I need a back door out just in case.”

Vanessa laughed. “Am I the girlfriend or the wife?”

“Whatever it takes to get me out of any bad situations quick.”

“I guess I can do that. Since we’re such good friends and all.”

“I got your good friend,” Mark laughed.

“Are you buying dinner, too? This really sounds like it would call for a good steak dinner afterward.”

“I swear, Vanessa. For a woman who has never officially dated me, you surely are expensive.”

“I take that as a yes,” Vanessa said sweetly.

Mark groaned. “Just meet me there at seven o’clock on Friday and we’ll go from there. The place is called the Post Club. I’ll keep my eye out for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll have no problems finding it. I’ll talk to you later,” Vanessa said.

“Yeah, later,” Mark said as he disconnected the call. And then, for just a brief moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if inviting Vanessa might have actually been a bad idea after all.