by Alice Ward
Now that he had, I was speechless. It was bad enough that he treated me like an object, but to threaten my job simply because I rejected him? I fumed with rage. I thought about marching into Ray’s office and telling him everything Zach said. The only thing that stopped me was the fear that Ray wouldn’t believe me. Zach was his son, after all. Didn’t Ray have an obligation to support him? Would he even consider my side of the story as truth?
I didn’t want to think about the answers to my questions, so I forced myself to focus on work. I skimmed through my recent files, trying to decide which project to work on. It wasn’t long before I knew it was no use. My head was spinning too much. All I could think about was Zach’s threat. Did he mean what he said? Would he really fire me if Sean failed to perform? Worst of all, would Ray let him?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sean
The lights were too bright. My eyes hurt within seconds of being in the showroom. Tara stood to my left, whispering in my ear, while the photographers and videographers readied their cameras. Reporters stood in a flock by the door. They all glanced around them, waiting to see if we were ready to get started. Part of me wanted to run before they had a chance to ask me a single question. I hadn’t expected to be nervous, but seeing all their faces made me sweat profusely.
I stretched my neck from side to side for a few seconds, trying to relax. I was getting worked up over nothing. This wasn’t the first time I had been put in an awkward situation and it wouldn’t be last. I told myself I could handle it. I was ready.
“Just remember,” Tara said softly. “We’re returning to our roots. Say that a lot. Bring up our roots and what we used to stand for. Stress the fact that we’re doing a complete one eighty, okay? Don’t forget that.”
“Tara,” I said, laughing. I turned to face her. “Relax. I’ll be fine.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “I’m just doing my job, you know? Making sure you remember your talking points.”
“How could I possibly forget them?” I said with humor. “You’ve basically done everything but whisper them in my ear while I slept. Unless… did you?”
Tara rolled her eyes at me and turned away. I laughed and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. My nerves slowly dissipated. Talking to Tara made me less anxious, oddly enough. It reminded me that I wasn’t in this alone.
Besides, the longer I waited, the more time I had to prepare myself. I meant what I told Tara. I was ready. She prepared me well. I knew exactly what to say and exactly how to say it.
“Here,” Tara said. She reached up and adjusted the collar on my leather jacket. I thought about stopping her, but she stood so close to me I could count the freckles on her nose. Her scent washed over me and I couldn’t breathe. She smelled amazing and she looked even better. When she took a step away from me, I found myself wanting to pull her back.
I cleared my throat and nodded a silent thank you. Tara scrutinized my appearance one last time before she turned to the reporters. With a wave, she called them over and directed me to the podium. I could hear cameras clicking wildly as I walked to my position.
Once I was safely behind the podium, I looked around the room and smiled politely. I wasn’t supposed to be too stern or it might make the reporters nervous, but I also wasn’t supposed to be too friendly or it might not give the right impression to the clients. It was a fine line, but I knew how to walk it.
“Good morning,” I said. “Thank you for coming. I’m not one for speeches, so I thought we would just jump right in to questions. Anyone?”
Every reporter in the room raised their hand high in the air. I looked around, not sure who to pick first. Tara caught my eye and subtly pointed to a woman with deep black hair. She looked severe, but I trusted Tara’s judgement.
“Yes,” I said, pointing to the woman. “Go ahead.”
“We’ve heard that Yates’ Motorcycles is undergoing a rebranding of sorts,” she said simply. “Can you tell us a little more about what that means?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll keep it simple. We feel we’ve lost our way. Over the years, we’ve drifted from the true identity of this company. We’ve allowed ourselves to become more commercially minded, and that was a mistake. One that we’re now trying to rectify. Our rebranding will be a one eighty of sorts. We will return to our roots. We will once again focus our attention on our customers, on the motorcycle community itself.”
“And how will you do that?” a male reporter chimed in quickly.
“With the bikes, first of all,” I said. “Our new models were designed after extensive evaluations of what real riders are looking for. We polled as many motorcycle enthusiasts as we could to find out just what kind of bikes they’re looking for. We took their feedback to heart when designing this latest batch of bikes.”
“When will they be available?” the same reporter asked.
“Next month,” I answered promptly.
There was a small pause as all the reporters murmured to each other and took hurried notes. I looked around, wondering if I should say more. My eyes sought out Tara and she just shook her head to let me know I shouldn’t speak yet.
“What role will you play in this rebranding?” a different reporter asked. I had my answer ready.
“Basically, I’m the face of the company,” I said simply. “I’m the person you’ll see on our advertisements and during our press conferences.”
“So, Ray Yates will no longer be speaking for his own company?” someone shot back.
“Of course, he will,” I said easily. “Just not all the time. You’ll see a lot more of me now.”
“And you’re Ray’s son?” someone asked.
“I am.” I nodded. I kept my answers simple, not wanting to stir anything up for myself or for the company.
“Why are you just now coming to work for your father?” the first reporter asked. “What have you been doing all these years while your brother’s been here, working alongside Ray?”
“Riding motorcycles,” I answered. My tone was serious, but I let a glimmer of a smile appear on my face. The reporters all laughed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I needed was to air out my family’s drama in a room full of press. Part of me worried they wouldn’t accept my answer, but they quickly moved on to other topics.
“Will you be traveling to various Yates’ locations?” someone asked. “To other dealerships?”
“I’ll have to answer that question at another time,” I said. “The boss and I haven’t discussed that quite yet.”
“Would you be open to it?” the same reporter asked.
“Again, that’s a conversation between me and the boss,” I said firmly. They were pushing and I wasn’t going to budge.
The truth was, I couldn’t imagine traveling outside of Arizona for work. Now that Paisley was with me every day, there was no way I could just leave town for weeks at a time. I glanced at Tara for a second, wanting to see what she thought of the question. She wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were determinedly focused on the group of reporters in front of her.
The questions continued at warp speed. They fired and I answered just as fast. My talking points were locked and loaded. Tara prepared me perfectly, and when I stepped away from the podium, I knew I’d nailed it.
“That was amazing,” Tara said as she walked over to me. She put her hand on my back and steered me around the room.
I shook hands with each reporter and thanked the photographers for being there. While everyone packed up their equipment and began filing out, Tara and I stepped to the side and watched them leave.
“I kicked ass,” I said with a grin.
“You did good,” Tara agreed. “But there are still a few things we could—”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not right now. Just enjoy the moment, okay?”
“I am enjoying the moment,” she argued.
“No, you’re not.” I laughed. “You’re already overanalyzing a thousand little details. I can tell. You’re so easy to
read when you’re obsessing.”
“I do not obsess!” Tara said.
“I don’t mean it in a negative way,” I promised. “It’s why you’re so good at your job.”
Tara smiled shyly. She looked at me with gratitude but didn’t speak. I’d never seen her at a loss for words before. It warmed me to see that I affected her, even in such a small way. I knew I should say something or at least look away, but I couldn’t bring myself to do either. My eyes were drawn to her face.
“At least I know I did one thing right,” Tara said suddenly. I blinked and cleared my throat. My head felt light.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Bringing you on,” she explained. “For a while there, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but now I know it was. You really are exactly what we need right now.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled. I was always uncomfortable when someone gave me a compliment, especially a woman as beautiful as Tara.
“No,” she said. She shook her head and stared into my eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means that you agreed to do this. Whatever your reasons were—”
“Trust me,” I interrupted. “They weren’t exactly honorable. The money was too good to pass up. With Paisley to think about, I couldn’t say no.”
“And you don’t think that’s honorable?” she scoffed. “Taking care of your daughter is incredibly honorable, Sean.”
I didn’t know what to say. My instinct was to think she was making fun of me, just trying to find a way to push my buttons, but deep down I knew that wasn’t true. The way she looked at me in that moment told me she was sincere. She truly believed I was doing the right thing, both for the company she loved and for the daughter I loved.
“Thank you,” I mumbled again. I could my feel face grow hot, and I hated myself for it. No woman had ever made me blush.
“You don’t like compliments,” Tara noted.
“Not really,” I admitted. “I’ve always found them to be either fake or manipulative.”
“Well, I can promise you I don’t ever say anything I don’t mean,” Tara said seriously. “You may not have noticed yet, but I’m a pretty straightforward person.”
“Really?” I teased. “And here I was, thinking all your threats were just jokes to lighten to the mood.”
“Threats?” She laughed. “You thought I was threatening you?”
“Weren’t you?” I asked.
She thought about it for a second before she jerked her head to the side in a casual admittance.
“I guess I was,” she said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I wasn’t exactly making your job easy.”
“No,” she agreed. “You weren’t.”
“Sorry about that,” I said, repeating her words.
“After that performance,” she said, gesturing toward the podium. “You’re completely forgiven.”
“Good to know,” I grinned.
“Well,” she said. “I should get upstairs. You’re free to go for the day.”
“Alright,” I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Friday,” she corrected. “Take tomorrow off. Hang out with Paisley.”
“Thanks,” I smiled. “I’ll see you Friday then.”
Tara smiled and turned toward the elevators. I didn’t move. I stood there and watched her until she disappeared into the back hallway. For some reason, I had an urge to follow her. I wanted to step onto the elevator with her, but this time, it wasn’t just a physical desire. As gorgeous as she was and as badly as I wanted her, that wasn’t what inspired my sudden urge. In that moment, all I wanted was to keep talking with her. I wanted to spend the rest of the day listening to the rise and fall of her voice. To hear her laugh just one more time would have made my entire week that much better.
Five minutes after she was gone, I finally pulled myself back to reality long enough to leave. I walked out to the parking lot where my bike waited for me. I took my time pulling my helmet on and mounting the bike. No matter how much distance I put between myself and Tara, my desire to see her again only grew stronger. I didn’t know when it happened, but my attraction to her was no longer just physical. Somehow, she’d worked her way into my heart and planted herself there. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I knew my feelings for her were real, but I had no idea what to do about it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tara
Thursday came and went in a blur of work. I did my best to avoid Zach. I answered emails. I sat in on a few meetings. I organized Sean’s photoshoot for the following day. And I spent the entire day daydreaming about Sean. By the time I went home that night, I was miserable. It was ridiculous, but I missed him. The entire day felt like a waste because I didn’t see him.
I woke up on Friday morning feeling giddy and excited. Getting to work early, I busied myself with random projects until it was time for Sean’s photoshoot. I half-ran to the elevator at nine o’clock and almost collided with the photographers when I stepped into the showroom.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I was just coming down to see if you needed anything.”
“No,” the photographer said. “We’re just about set up down here. Just waiting on Sean.”
“He should be here any—” I began.
“Minute?” a familiar voice said from behind me. My heart skipped a beat as I turned around to see Sean walking toward me. He smiled when our eyes met, and my knees went weak.
“Hey,” I said, checking my watch. “Right on time. Impressive.”
“Trying to be a model employee,” he said. “You know? Taking a leaf out of your book and all that.”
“So, you’re trying to be a goody-goody,” I said with a nod. “Not exactly the ideal image for a biker.”
“Well, that’s what wardrobe is for, right?” he teased. “To make me into something I’m not?”
“That’s a little harsh,” I said. “It’s more to make you an even better version of yourself.”
Sean laughed and said, “Nice spin. Yet another reason you’re great at your job.”
“I try.” I shrugged. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”
We walked toward the changing tent and Sean disappeared inside without a word. I expected him to complain when he saw our clothing options for the day, but he never made a sound. When he stepped out of the tent, he wore his own t-shirt under the Yates’ leather jacket. I shook my head and smiled slyly at him.
“What?” he asked. “There wasn’t a shirt this time, so I just assumed I should wear my own.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “No shirt. Just the jacket.”
“You’re kidding,” he said. He stared at me with a baffled expression, waiting for me to change my mind. I didn’t.
“You’ll still have the jacket on,” I assured him.
“What’s the point of this?” he asked. “I thought we were trying to target ‘real bikers?’ No real biker is going to want to see me without a shirt on!”
“The women will,” I said. “We aren’t just targeting men, you know? These ads are also for women, so—”
“So, I’m also a sex object,” he groaned.
“Basically,” I admitted. “Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
Sean sighed and removed the leather jacket. He handed it to me, and I took it with a frown. Surely, he wasn’t about to strip down right here.
Just as the thought entered my mind, Sean pulled his t-shirt over his head. He turned and tossed it into the changing tent before turning back to me. I handed him the jacket, trying desperately not to stare at his abs. I thought the jacket would help divert my attention, but it did the opposite. The black leather accentuated his ab muscles in an incredibly sexy way. I swallowed hard and forced my eyes back to his face.
He grimaced at me one last time and made his way to the photographers. I watched from a distance while they posed him and gave him orders. Sean stayed still and let them take a few test shots. Then, they set him free and tol
d him to just have fun. I could tell from Sean’s face that he wasn’t all that used to having fun. I smiled to myself at his discomfort, but I still couldn’t peel my eyes from his chest and stomach.
I realized why the photographers wanted him outfitted in just the jacket. Coupled with the motorcycle, Sean was the picture of a sexy biker. No woman alive would have been able to resist him in that moment. I told myself my attraction to him was a good thing. It meant our plan was working. Our female demographic would be drawn to him, just like I was.
Still, I knew I needed to pull myself together. Sean was off limits. My sexual attraction to him was completely inappropriate, and I needed to make it stop. He was my employee and my boss’s son. I could never date him. It would cross so many professional lines, not to mention it would put my job in serious jeopardy. Which, based on my last conversation with Zach, it already was.
Zach was just looking for an opportunity to get rid of me. Ever since I rejected his offer to take me out, he’d been on a witch hunt. Anything that went wrong, he came running to me. If a single sheet of paper was misfiled, it was my fault. If there was a scheduling conflict, it was my responsibility to fix it. He was doing everything in his power to make me miserable. I couldn’t imagine what he would do if he caught wind of something happening between Sean and me.
The photoshoot continued. I thought about disappearing into my office until they were done, but my feet were cemented to the floor. Sean was there and I had no desire to move until he did. No matter how many times I told myself I was being stupid, I couldn’t help it. Every part of me wanted him.
“Okay, Sean,” the photographer called. “Take the jacket off for me.”
“What?” Sean asked, his eyes widening slightly.
“Just for a few shots,” the photographer said. “It’ll be quick.”