Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (10 page)

CHAPTER
TEN

EVELYN

 

 

“Those lousy assholes.” I
mutter as I slam my front door. The chain lock rattles against the wood,
reminding me of its existence, though I never bother to use it. One of the
benefits of renting an expensive apartment is that I don’t have to worry much
about crime. The downside is that without a job, I can’t really afford to live
here anymore. And judging by the interview I just had, my situation isn’t about
to change for the better.

 

I
should have probably been suspicious when I was called in for a last minute
interview at Bitner Incorporated, a company that does very similar things to VI
and is thought of as one of Edward’s competitors. Truth is, they’re smaller and
rarely beat VI in a deal, and Edward doesn’t think much of them.

 

I
guess I fooled myself into thinking that maybe they were interested in hiring
me to get a leg up on VI, and although I’m not the type to divulge company secrets,
even from a company or CEO that has treated me so poorly, I would probably be a
very good fit for them. As it turned out, the interview was more of a big joke.
On me.

 

Right
away, all of the questions were about Edward. Not even about VI, but Edward
himself. And me. And our relationship. It became clear very quickly that they
had heard about the circumstances around why I left and were curious. Edward’s
twisted version of the circumstances, anyway. I didn’t even bother to ask what
he’d been saying, it was obviously not flattering from the questions that were
being asked.

 

I’m
angrier at myself for almost losing my composure. I didn’t exactly burst into
tears, but I could feel them brimming at the edges of my eyes and I wasn’t the
only one that noticed. At least they apologized at that point.
“It’s not
that you aren’t qualified,”
they explained.
“We just can’t risk crossing
Edward right now. But maybe in the future…”

 

Turns
out they really only called me in as a curiosity. To see someone that pissed him
off in ways they wish they had the balls to do themselves. They aren’t willing
to go to war with Edward. Certainly not about this. Not about me. It was a
complete waste of an afternoon.

 

Not
that I had anything better to do.

 

I
yank on the straps of my pumps as I balance myself against the armrest of my
couch, and then fling them into the hallway. The rest of my suit comes off on
my way into the bedroom. I’m not one to give up on something easily, but after
the day I’ve had, followed by a discouraging couple of weeks of job hunting and
knowing that there is someone out there actively bad mouthing me, I can’t help
but throw myself down onto my bed and let the tears finally fall.

 

I
don’t like to throw myself a pity party too often, but sometimes just letting
it all out is cathartic, and this time is no exception. It only takes me about
ten minutes before I’m feeling better and push myself up.
Come on, Evelyn. You’re
stronger and smarter than this. Figure it out.

 

I
just need a plan.

 

I
pull on some comfy sweats, now that my little breakdown is over. I’m not
planning on going anywhere for the rest of the day, and the only person that is
going to see me is the pizza delivery boy that I’m now dialing for. Pizza
always helps me think.

 

I
spend about fifteen minutes absently browsing the job boards, but there’s
nothing I haven’t already applied for that is in my field. It may be time to
think outside the box, though. I can’t imagine that Edward’s reach, however
impressive, spans every job and company in the city. Maybe I’ll ask the pizza
guy if they’re hiring.

 

I
let out a heavy sigh as I pull up my finance spreadsheet, realizing that the
only reason delivering pizzas is a bad idea is that it wouldn’t come close to
paying my rent. I have enough money saved up for another couple of months, but
that will pretty much clean me out. Obviously, waiting that long to do anything
would be a terrible idea, since by then my desperation would be even worse. I
haven’t even replaced my cell phone yet since I want to wait until I have a
steady paycheck first, or at least the promise of one. If this goes on much
longer I might even start to seriously consider moving in with Jackie.

 

She
offered, of course. But as much as I like hanging out with her, and she’s
probably my closest friend since moving here, I know we’d be terrible
roommates. Jackie is all about partying and sleeping around and drinking. I
know I could maybe use a bit more of that in my life, but it would just be too
much with her. She has very little sense of boundaries and a love for loud
music late into the night. If I did get a job where I had to do get up early or
do any work from home, it would be impossible.

 

So,
what are my other options?

 

I
could move back home to Toronto, but what do I have waiting for me there? My
mother lives in a little condo in the suburbs, and I know she’d take me in, but
that would be a temporary solution, at best. I couldn’t live with her for too
long before I’d want to tear my hair out. She’s even worse than Jackie, but for
much different reasons. I can just imagine how she’d expect me to call her
every time I was going to miss getting home in time for supper.

 

Moving
out with my best friend, Lila, once we started college, was the best thing I
ever did, and I can’t imagine losing that freedom again by moving back home. But
Lila isn’t an option anymore, either. She moved to Vegas to live with her new
husband, Chase. I’m sure she would take me in, but what the hell would I even
do there? Besides, he’s a professional poker player, and the two of them are
always traveling the world. I don’t really want to stay in their house when
they aren’t around. I’d feel like a freeloader.

 

But
I’m not sure that staying in Chicago is going to work, either. Not unless I can
find another job, and fast. I’m on a work visa that I’m sure Edward has already
reported as being terminated. That means if I don’t find another job quickly,
I’ll have to leave the country anyway, whether I want to or not. And
considering I’ve only had two interviews in as many weeks, that’s looking less
and less likely. I can’t even count today’s interview as a real one.

 

Which
means I’ve only had one actual interview.

 

An
interview where I was actually offered the job on the spot.

 

Working
for a man I can’t possibly work for.

 

How
did I manage to screw things up so badly? The one time I finally let loose and
have a one-night stand with a badass beefcake, and he turns out to be a secret
CEO of the only company willing to take a chance on me. Why the hell was he
willing to do that, anyway? Maybe the only reason he offered it to me so
quickly was because we slept together. Was it out of guilt?

 

Something
tells me that Bash doesn’t let regret drive any decisions he makes. He probably
forgot about me the moment I walked out of that back room at the bar. If I were
smarter, I’d forget about him just as fast. Yet he’s all I’ve been thinking
about.

 

Not
just the sex. Of course, that was fantastic. I don’t know if it was the
forbidden nature of doing it with a leather-clad outlaw, or that he’s so
gorgeous, or if he was just that good, but every time I think about that night,
I have to push it out of my head before I need to change my panties.

 

But
I think about our meeting at Piston almost as often. The things he told me. He spends
his days at Piston and his nights with his motorcycle gang. He’s like a reverse
batman or something. It’s amazing that he can do both, but I guess that’s why
he needed to hire Hans. And who knows how involved Sebastian really is in his
club.

 

Maybe
most shocking of all is how he manages to live with those secrets all on his
own.

 

Can
it really be true that no one in the whole world knows about his dual identity?
How lonely must that be, to have no one to confide in? You can tell some people
some things, and other people other things, but no one knows everything. How
does he keep those lives so separate? It would drive me crazy. No wonder he
acts like such an asshole all of the time.

 

So,
why did he tell me?

 

Because
he had no choice. Our accidental meeting at both the bar and the office left me
able to connect him, so without a deeper explanation, I might not have realized
how important the secret was. How serious he was about me keeping it. It might
not mean as much to me, but it means everything to him, and it must be tough
knowing that a complete stranger like me knows about it now. I can’t imagine
how stressful something like that would be. Especially if he really has spent
so much time and energy keeping that secret for so long. Bad luck for both of
us, me showing up at Axle’s on Saturday.

 

As
much as it sucks for me, it might even be worse for him. That’s something I
hadn’t even considered, but for some reason as soon as I do, a chill runs
through my spine.

 

Before
I can consider why, my apartment phone rings with the special tone that tells
me it’s the downstairs security. As much as I appreciate how safe the building
is, sometimes they’re a little excessive. I’ve told Charlie, the guard on duty
most afternoons, to just let the pizza guys through without calling, but he
always seems to forget. More likely he’s worried about getting in trouble if
his supervisor sees him waving someone through without a verifying phone call.

 

I
answer it. “Hello?”

 

“Good
afternoon, Miss Silver, it’s Charlie here at security.”

 

“Hi,
Charlie. Yes, I’m expecting him. Please send him up.”

 

“Oh,
okay. Thank you, ma’am.”

 

I
absently hang up as I try to refocus my thoughts. What was it that caused that
thrill of fear a moment ago? The fact that knowing Bash’s secret would be worse
for him than it is for me. Why should that worry me?  It’s really more his
problem than mine.

 

I
mean, I can see why it’s so important for him to keep it. If the wrong person
links him to both parts of his lives, it could be catastrophic. He could lose
his business and his club. Or his family, as he puts it. Although, calling a
motorcycle club a family is probably similar to calling a group of mobsters a
family. They’re both just as dangerous.

 

He’s
lucky that it was someone like me that figured out his secret. Not everyone can
be trusted. Not that he knows that he can trust me. Despite having been inside
me, he doesn’t know me at all.

 

The
knock at the door seems to jar my thoughts, this time dropping them into the
right order instead of distracting me. The thrill of fear is back as I grab my
purse from the table. Bash doesn’t know that I’m trustworthy. He doesn’t know
me at all. And he’s a dangerous man with millions to lose. In that context, I’m
surprised he let me leave Piston at all, but how long until he comes to the
conclusion that letting me go was a huge liability?

 

My
appetite has suddenly gone, but the pizza is waiting, so I yank open the door,
wallet in hand.

 

My
heartbeat disappears just as quickly as my appetite as I stare into Bash’s
eyes, glowering at me from the other side.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

BASH

 

 

“Wow, you look like
shit.” It probably isn’t the best way to open a conversation, but Evelyn has surprised
me. I was expecting the door to be answered by the same made-up, well-dressed
woman that I saw both at the bar and the office. Instead, Evelyn is dressed in
sweatpants and an old baggy shirt that almost completely hides the sumptuous figure
that I know she’s got under it. Worse yet is her face. Her makeup looks like
she’s about to go audition for the job of the sad clown at the circus. Her
mascara is as thick under her eyes as a pro football player, and there are long
streaks of it dried down along her cheeks. Her lipstick is smudged all around
her lips, as well. She’s also obviously shocked to see me. If her eyes get any
wider, they might roll right out of the sockets.

 

“Wh…
What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you.”

 

“I
don’t doubt that, which is why I was surprised you had them send me right up. I
assumed you would have seen me on the security cam. Place like this must have a
feed directly into your TV from the lobby, no?”

 

Evelyn
glances back behind her for a moment and I can see a TV back there, but it’s
off. She turns back to look at me, still seemingly out of sorts.

 

“I
was expecting… I ordered dinner. I thought you were them.”

 

“Ah.
Well, no thanks, I’m heading to the club right after this.”

 

She
looks at me, confused for a moment, then gets the joke but doesn’t seem to
appreciate it. I see the familiar fire return to her eyes, finally.

 

“What
do you want, Bash? Or Sebastian. Or whatever the hell you want to be called
right now.”

 

“Bash
is fine. I’m headed to the club.” As I’m wearing my leather and cut, I assumed
that was obvious. “You going to invite me in, or what?” I’m feeling a bit
conspicuous standing in the hallway outside of her apartment, especially given
the security they have going on downstairs. I know that guard was as surprised
as I was when Evelyn told him to pass me right through, no questions asked. I
probably don’t fit the profile of her typical gentleman caller.

 

The
look on Evelyn’s face shifts again, and for a moment, she almost looks worried.
She glances over my shoulder and hesitates before finally stepping back with a little
nod. Her dark raccoon eyes are watching me carefully.

 

“Been
crying?” I ask as I walk through to her living room. It’s a nice apartment. Not
surprising, given what I’m sure Edward was paying her. EAs to men like him
don’t come cheap. Especially when you’re fucking them. Still, without that
salary, how much longer can she afford this place?

 

“Crying?
Why would you—”

 

“Your
eyes.” I say, without turning back to face her. The view from her apartment is
impressive. I can even see the Piston tower from here. When I finally do turn,
I’m amused to see her wiping at her makeup with a tissue as she stares at the
dark circles in a mirror near the front door.

 

“Listen,
I won’t stay long. I just dropped by to see if you’ve reconsidered my offer. I
would have called, but you only had your cell phone number listed, and I think
that may have been the one you left floating in a beer glass at Axle’s on
Saturday.”

 

“Why
would I have reconsidered?” She stops what she’s doing, smudged tissue in hand,
and looks back over to me. “Was my ‘no’ not clear enough?”

 

There’s
that spunk that I find so appealing. Even looking as she does, it’s not hard to
see the beauty underneath. I was exaggerating quite a bit when I said she
looked like shit. I can’t imagine her ever not looking sexy, even disheveled as
she is now. It’s a bit disappointing that she doesn’t seem at all happy to see
me. Or does she have more control over her emotions than I suspect? If
anything, she looked scared of me at first. Now she’s back to looking pissed
off.

 

“Do
you enjoy this view?” I ask, gesturing toward the window behind me. I don’t
bother waiting for an answer. “A view like this… a place like this… I can’t
imagine it’s cheap. How much longer can you afford to live here without a job? How
many more offers are you getting? From what I hear, Edward hasn’t stopped
slinging shit your way at every business and company within his wide reach. Even
if you manage to apply somewhere that he hasn’t gotten to yet, he’ll hear about
it. And he’ll come down hard. Most companies can’t take that kind of pressure.”

 

“Except
the big, bad Bash, is that it? You’re the only one man enough to stand up to
him?”

 

“What
little business we’ve done with VI, we can afford to lose. I don’t intimidate
easily. Most companies just wouldn’t think you worth the fight.”

 

That
seems to take the wind out of Evelyn’s sails a bit harder than I meant. She
bites her lip and takes a deep, steadying breath before responding, but she’s
quieter now. “And why do
you
? Why do
you
care? Because we had
sex? You don’t strike me as the type to feel like he owes a girl anything just
because she fucks him. Or is it that you think that by hiring me, I’m going to
be your personal sex slave?”

 

I
can’t help but smile at both the memories of fucking Evelyn, and the way those
words sound coming out of her lips. I like when she talks about fucking me. “You’re
right. I don’t feel like I owe you a damn thing. And this has nothing to do
with how well you can suck dick, or whether you’re going to be giving me
lunchtime quickies in the board room.”

 

“Good,
because that’s never going to happen.”

 

“Sucking
my dick, or the quickies?” I’m grinning again as she rolls her eyes.

 

“Are
we done here? I’m expecting my dinner any minute, and you must have some major
crime spree to plan.”

 

I
grab the edges of my cut, pulling on them tensely. I know the look that my
leather evokes in people, and I’ve always appreciated that shield. It keeps
most people away. Today it’s only making things more difficult. “I told you the
other day, you don’t know who or what I am. You only know what you think you
see.”

 

“Right,
of course. You’re just a poor, misunderstood, millionaire biker. Well, we all
have problems. Try having the goddamn CEO of a massive, global company spread
lies about you all over the city. You know how I spent my day today? Being
laughed at in an interview where the only question that even remotely related
to the job was when they asked whether or not I was hired at VI before or after
I started sleeping with Edward.”

 

Her
fire is blazing now, and she’s literally shaking with anger. “That’s what’s
happening to me right now.
Me
. Someone who has tried to live her life by
the book, and with honesty and integrity. Who the hell knows what stories
Edward is telling people? What type of twisted bullshit. But go ahead, Bash. Why
don’t you tell me why the lies that you tell about yourself, on a daily basis,
has led to you being so misunderstood? Tell me why you deserve anyone’s
sympathy.”

 

She’s
angry, and she has a right to be. Not at me, although I know I haven’t done a
lot to endear myself to her, but at her shitty situation. Edward Stonewall
breaks down people and companies all the time, but those are in a business
setting where you can argue that it isn’t personal. What he’s doing now, to
her, is very personal.

 

Evelyn
knows enough about me already that there is little point in holding back, so I
decide not to avoid her question this time. “I don’t deserve anyone’s
sympathy,” I say, walking over to her couch and plopping down. I’m tempted to
tell her to sit, but I don’t want to order her around in her own apartment. Instead,
I just wait and she slowly walks to a chair and sits down on her own.

 

“I
wasn’t asking for it. I just told you that you don’t know who I am, and you
only see what you think you see. That isn’t me arguing that I’m misunderstood. That
perception is by design.”

 

“What
do you mean?” She raises an eyebrow above one of the black smears. She only
made them worse when she started to try and clean them and then stopped. Her
eyes are a green today, almost an emerald color, shining brighter than they
have in the past. Gorgeous. “Whose design?”

 

“Mine.
What you and everyone else sees is Bash, a hard-drinking, hard-living,
motorcycle thug that no one would ever think to tie to corporate America. I’ve
been there since almost the beginning. Even though some of the members have
changed over the years, and I’m not as close to them as I could be because of
the secrets I keep, I still think of them as family. The closest thing I have
to a family, anyway. But they’re a troubled family.”

 

“I’m
still waiting to hear the part where you’re something other than what I see. So
far, none of this is a surprise.”

 

I
narrow my eyes. I’m not used to a woman talking to me like this, and I’m not
sure if it makes me horny or angry. I can’t imagine Jez ever taking a sarcastic
tone with me, but I’ve never been as attracted to Jez as I am to Evelyn. My
hunger for her goes deeper than a physical desire, and it’s as confusing as it
is annoying, so it needs to be pushed aside. I don’t let things like that
distract me. Distractions take your eye off the ball and lead to mistakes, and
I can’t afford mistakes. The fact that she found out about both sides of my
life was an unfortunate coincidence, but unavoidable, from my perspective. I
don’t have to make it worse by falling for her.

 

“The
part that you don’t see is internal to the club. The Chrome Soldiers were never
a violent club, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t up to no good. Or even that we
wouldn’t bring violence, if it was necessary. But we did what needed to be done
for everyone to earn a living and so that everyone around knew not to fuck with
us. But times change.

 

“As
I started to build my company, I realized that the two worlds could never mix. But
at the same time, I had success that I wanted to share with my crew. I wanted
them to be successful and, if possible, put them on a path that would allow
them to not have to do the shit that we do in order to make a living. Not
because I was some goody fucking two-shoes, all of a sudden, but because I
didn’t want to see my boys end up in prison or dead. No matter how small-time
we were, things have a way of escalating in our world. That means that those
two final destinations are part of our general retirement scenario.”

 

I
have her attention now.

 

“So
I started to do shit for them. I arranged for a ‘heist’ of a shipment of fancy
electronics.  You know, televisions, sound systems, you name it.  Enough for
everyone in the club to deck their houses out in the best shit. In reality, everything
was completely paid for and the crew just thought they made a lucky score. Then
I arranged for us to fall into some legitimate businesses. Places the guys can
work at and earn a real living, instead of having to pull jobs all of the time
and risk getting sent away. Businesses I personally bought, but let them think
we acquired in ways they’d find more suitable. It’s a slow migration, but I
mean to make these guys all go legit eventually.”
Kicking and screaming, for
many of them.

 

“Even
at the office, as Sebastian, I have a carefully cultivated image. Clean cut, mid-level
executive, keeps to himself at the office. Aside from the board, barely anyone
there even knows my name. Many of the other executives haven’t a clue what I
do. Most of them think that I’m related in some way to Hans, which explains why
I have a job at all, and why I’m often talking to him in his office alone. It’s
a rumor I started myself.”

 

Evelyn
is shaking her head. “This is all so crazy to me. But okay, fine. You’re a
complex man living a complex life, and maybe you aren’t a criminal. At least,
not anymore. Fine. But that still doesn’t answer the question of why you’re
here. What do you want from me? Why do you care if I come and work for you? There
are a million EAs, and none of them come with the baggage I’m coming with.”

 

My
fingers curl into the leather of my jacket, pressing hard against my thigh, and
I tilt my head down to stare at my whitening knuckles. I had a very clear
reason about why I needed to hire Evelyn when I showed up at her door. I wanted
to keep an eye on her. Make sure my secrets stay safe. But I know now that isn’t
the issue. I’m a good enough judge of character to know she isn’t going to be
looking to profit off of my secrets, even if I walk out of her life right now
and never look back. And that reason would never get her to agree to come work
for me.

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