5 Bikers for Valentines

by Rye Hart

  A knock at my office door pulled me away from the computer. I minimized the screen and sat up, clearing my throat.

  “Come in.”

  When the door opened, I groaned and rolled my eyes. Adam smirked at me, sauntered in, and took a seat across from me. He leaned back in the seat and put his feet up on the corner of my desk – which annoyed me to no end.

  “Get your feet off my desk,” I said. “Or I'll take them down for you.”

  He left them up for another minute and when I continued glaring at him, he smirked, shook his head, and finally removed them.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Grumpy, aren't we, Malcolm?” he said, shaking his head. “It's understandable. I guess the idea of potentially losing your inheritance and position in the company would do that to a person.”

  “Like you're any closer to getting the job done.”

  His smirk grew wider. “Actually, I am,” he said. “But, that's not what I came to discuss.”

  “You actually found someone willing to have your baby?” I looked at him, feeling dumbstruck.

  “You act like that's shocking but come on – I'm an heir to the Crane fortune,” he said. “Of course I have women who are willing to do anything to be with me to get a slice of that pie.”

  “I guess when you set your standards low enough –” I was being petty, and I knew it, butI didn't care.

  Adam's smile faltered as he stared back at me. We looked a lot alike, in many ways, except that he had his mother's brown eyes instead of the Crane baby blues.

  “Sorry, Adam,” I said, not quite understanding why I felt the need to apologize. “I guess I'm just feeling the pressure here.”

  I always tried to be nice to my half-brother, even though he didn't deserve it most of the time. Most days, I felt like his only purpose was to mock me, to make my life a living hell – a role he embraced with vigor, which made it extra hard to be cordial to him.

  “Apology accepted,” he said. “I actually didn't come over here to chat about Dad's will though. I actually have a favor to ask you.”

  “A favor?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah, Dad asked me to look over the the Orizadine files,” he said. “Said it could provide me with some useful background on the drug before it hits the market. Thought maybe you'd know where I can find those?”

  “Sure, they're on the drive,” I said. “I'll send you the link. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, please. If you could send over all files relating to the drug trials, the marketing materials, and anything else you might have, that would be great,” he said. “I'm introducing a new marketing campaign to Dad based around the new drug, and I'd – ”

  “That's my job,” I interrupted. “I'm the one who handles all the marketing.”

  “Oh boy, this is awkward,” Adam sighed.

  He clasped his hands in front of him, that familiar smirk back on his face. I knew I wasn't going to like what he had to say next and I could see that Adam was relishing it. He was trying to keep from smirking, but he couldn't quite pull it off. He was just twisting the knife a little deeper – and enjoying it.

  “Dad asked me to take some of it off your plate,” he said. “He thought it would be good for me to learn this side of the business. He's finally ready to pull me out of customer service and put me into a real position, I suppose.”

  Adam's eyes sparkled as he spoke. He was taunting me and loving every minute of it. We both knew what he was getting at. If I failed, and he succeeded, he'd be the new CEO of Crane Enterprises. He'd control everything.

  He'd have my job.

  Calm down, Malcolm, I told myself. He's just trying to get under your skin. Yeah, he was a goddamn expert at that. I gritted my teeth and tried to remain pleasant and professional.

  “Sure. I'll have my assistant compile everything and send it over later today.”

  “Great, thanks, brother,” he said, standing up. “I'm excited to get started.”

  Adam left my office, and my blood was boiling, I called my dad on his cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

  “Yes, Malcolm?” he answered, as if he'd been expecting my call.

  “So you're giving my work to Adam now, I see,” I fumed. “Ready to write me off already, are you?”

  I shouldn't speak to him that way, I knew. But, my anger was out of control. The stress and anxiety of this whole stupid contest he was putting us through was really getting to me, and I was lashing out. Dad, of course, didn't appreciate it.

  “Malcolm, easy now. No need to get defensive,” he said. “I think it's good for Adam to experience more of what we do. Regardless of who takes over the company, I'd like both of my sons to work together and be partners.”

  “I've worked hard for this company, Dad,” I said. “I gave up everything – football, dating, being a normal teenager – with the promise that one day, it would pay off. This whole exercise you're putting us through, pitting us against each other the way you are, is quite frankly, a big load of bullshit.”

  “Malcolm,” my dad's voice rose higher. “Nothing in life is ever free. You worked hard, but Adam didn't even have the opportunity to learn. If you think it's so wrong of me to give him a chance to prove himself, maybe I raised you wrong. Maybe, I made things too easy for you.”

  “Too easy?” I snapped. “Like having another child in less than a year?”

  “You have Danielle,” he said. “Settle down and marry her. Start a family. It's the right thing to do and it's been long enough.”

  I hadn't told him about what had happened with Danielle. Apparently, nobody had. I'd held off on telling him because I didn't want him to think I might fail this task. But, maybe it was time to confess it all and admit that I was starting from scratch and had no prospects lined up.

  “About that, dad, we need to –”

  My phone buzzed with a text message, and I pulled it away from my ear far enough that I could check it.

  Hey Malcolm. This is Casey. Can we talk?

  Maybe I wasn't as far off as I thought after all. Maybe, after having a night to sleep on it, Casey had a change of heart.

  “Malcolm?” my father asked. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, dad. Listen, I have to go. We'll talk later,” I said.

  I hung up before he had a chance to answer and texted Casey back. I’d nearly forgotten that I’d given her my number before leaving the diner that night.

  Of course. Give me a time and a place, I'll be there.

  She responded almost right away.

  I'm at The Grove right now. Think you can meet me here?

  I was out of my seat, cell phone in hand, before I even had a chance to respond. The Grove wasn't too far from our offices, I could walk there. That wouldn't be a problem at all. My heart raced as I typed out my message to her.

  I'm on my way. See you in ten minutes.

  ~ooo000ooo~

  The Grove was iconic in Los Angeles. People flocked from all over to shop at a number of high-end and luxury retailers, or eat at overpriced restaurants, hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or two along the way. As a local, I avoided The Grove at all costs, if I could. Too many tourists for me, and I'd never been a big fan of shopping to begin with.

  I told Casey to meet me by the dancing fountain, and perhaps that had been a mistake. As I approached the landmark, I saw that it was surrounded by people and I wasn't sure if I'd find Casey among the throng of tourists.

  “Malcolm, over here,” I heard her voice calling to me and looked around, seeing nothing but tourists everywhere.

  I heard her call me name again and looked toward where I thought the voice was coming from.I saw that there was an arm in the air, waving for me. Once a bald, overweight man stepped out of the way, I saw Casey standing there with the fountain behind her. Her long hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with side bangs. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a button up shirt that accentuated the amazing curves of her breasts.


  My breath catching in my throat, I made my way over to her.

  “Good thing you're tall,” she laughed.

  For the first time, I realized her eyes were not just brown, but hazel. Flecks of gold and green mingled in with the light brown of her irises and sparkled as the sunlight reflecting off them. Her makeup was very tasteful and light, almost like she wasn't wearing any at all. She didn't really have to, she was naturally very beautiful.

  “I wasn't sure you'd see me standing here,” she said. “I guess there's an event going on or something.”

  She looked around, wide-eyed at the mass of people, shaking her head. Yeah, I wasn't a big fan of crowds, either. I knew exactly how she felt being trapped in amongst a mob.

  “I don't normally come out here,” she said. “In fact, I usually tend to avoid places like this.”

  “Then, what brings you out here today?” I asked, slipping my hands into my pockets.

  She reached into the backpack sitting on the ground beside her and handed me the jacket I'd put on her the other night.

  “I had it dry cleaned, I hope it's okay,” she said. “I hope they got any bloodstains out of the fabric.”

  “Casey, you didn't – ”

  “My mom works for a dry cleaner, it didn't cost me a thing,” she said, raising her hand to stop my protest.

  “You came all this way to give me my jacket back?”

  “Not just for that reason,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm also applying for jobs around here. I thought maybe some of the higher-end restaurants might pay well, but so far, nobody's hiring.”

  Her face fell, and she let out a long breath. I could see the fear in her eyes as she talked about not being able to find a job. She was bordering on panic.

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” I said.

  I shuffled my feet and looked around, suddenly realizing how awkward this entire situation had to be for her.

  “Would you like to grab lunch?” I asked.

  She looked back up at me, batting those dark eyelashes up at me. I assumed she'd shoot me down again, but she surprised me instead.

  “Sure,” she said. “Actually, I did want to talk to you about what you said the other night.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Today you get to pick the place. Anywhere your little heart desires.”

  She smiled gently. “It has to be cheap, I'm broke.”

  “It's my treat, Casey. I invited you, remember?” I said. “Just name the place.”

  She bit her lip and seemed to think about it for a long time. She looked at the places around us, searching for something.

  Finally, she said, “How about the Cheesecake Factory? I've never been there before.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

  We walked over to the restaurant, and there was a bit of a wait. I made small talk with her until we were finally seated, not wanting to bring up our conversation from the other night before she was ready.. I was content to just let her play it out at her own pace. I didn't want her to slap me again or storm out of the restaurant. Even though she seemed to be in a better mood, I wasn't going to take any chances.

  As soon as we sat down, she started talking just as I did.

  “Malcolm, I –”

  “Casey, I just wanted –”

  We both stopped, and then we laughed.

  “Go ahead,” I told her. “Ladies first.”

  Her smile wavered, and she took a deep breath. “I thought a lot about what you'd offered me the other night, Malcolm and I – ”

  The waitress interrupted us, and Casey let out an agonized sigh. I could tell it was hard for her to say what she was trying to say, and she’d been trying to get it out while she’d had the courage.

  “Welcome to The Cheesecake Factory, my name is Katrina,” she chirped brightly. “Would you like to start out with an appetizer or maybe a cocktail?”

  “Can you give us a minute, Katrina?” I said. “We haven't had a chance to look at the menu yet.”

  “Of course. Let me get you started with some waters for now, okay?”

  “Sounds great,” I said.

  Katrina wandered away from our table, and I stared at Casey. She looked like a deer in the headlights, her eyes wide. I felt like a complete and utter asshole. So, I decided to just nip it in the bud and take all of the strained tension, awkwardness, and pressure off of her.

  “Casey, I'm sorry I even brought all that up with you,” I said. “Honestly, it was a spur of the moment thing, and I shouldn't have put you in the position. Really, I'm so sorry.”

  “Malcolm, I was just going to say I'll do it.”

  A strangled, choking sound escaped me. “You will?”

  “I will.”

  I couldn't believe it. I was staring at the face of the woman who would have my child. Well, if things worked out, that was. Still, hearing her say she'd do it was incredible. It felt like a two-ton weight had been lifted from my shoulders. At the same time though, it felt like another two-ton weight settled heavy in my stomach.

  I was going to be a father. I found someone willing to have a baby for me, which meant that I was going to be a dad. Great. So, now what?

  My head was spinning, and from the look on Casey's face, hers was too.

  “Are you sure, Casey?” I asked. “I mean, this is a pretty big deal.”

  “I'm positive,” she sighed. “I'll be honest, I've always wanted children of my own someday, so I can't believe I'm agreeing to do this. I can't believe I'd hand my child over to you, no strings attached. But I need to get myself in a better situation before I can ever dream of having a family myself. So – I'm thinking of it like an investment into my future. Malcolm, I just – I want to make sure that you'll care for the child. That you'll give him or her the best life possible. That's what matters the most to me.”

  “Of course,” I said. My head was still fuzzy, and I was still trying to process it all. “Casey, I've always wanted kids too, and while this isn't the ideal situation for me either – I've always wanted to be a father. My child will never want for anything.”

  She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. I wanted to walk around the table and wrap her up in a tight hug but feared that it would earn me another hard slap across the face, so I remained in my seat. Better safe than sorry.

  “I know,” she said. “You can give a child more than I ever could. I just hope that with our arrangement, it can help me get on my feet, so I can care for the family I have, and raise a family of my own one day too.”

  I decided to chance it. I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. She didn't pull her hand away, or stab me with a fork, so I figured I was doing okay.

  “Casey, if you help me with this, I promise to take care of you,” I said. “If there's anything I can do to help you improve your life, I'll do it. Just say the word. Seriously, your wish will be my command. I mean that.”

  Our eyes were locked on each other for a moment, and she smiled back at me. Her full lips parted as if she was going to say something just as Katrina brought us our waters.

  “Do you need a few more minutes?” she asked.

  More like a few more months or years, I thought. I could act all calm and cool while talking to Casey about it, but truthfully, I was as scared as she was. My head was spinning, and my gut was churning. I was excited, but terrified beyond all measure. I was going to be responsible for another life, and I'd be doing it alone.

  “I think I'm ready,” Casey said. “What about you, Malcolm?”

  “I'm not sure I'll ever be ready,” I muttered to myself. Katrina and Casey stared at me. “Sorry, I meant, yes. I know what I want.”

  I gave Casey's hand a squeeze before pulling my hand away and quickly opening the menu. We ordered lunch, and while we tried to make small talk, it was clear there was an awkwardness between us. The conversation was a little bit strained – not easy and free-flowing like it had been the other night, which made me a little sad. I'd had a good time with Casey.

  �
�I'm going to talk to my lawyer and get some legal things worked out,” I said.

  Casey nodded. “What clinic will we be using?”

  “A clinic?”

  “For the fertilization process.”

  Oh. Shit.

  “There may be a problem with that,” I said, gritting my teeth. “This is really strange and awkward, but I was actually thinking we'd go about this the old-fashioned way.”

  Casey's eyes widened even more, and she was speechless. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out for the longest time. Finally, she swallowed hard and blinked at me.

  “The old-fashioned way,” she said. “As in we sleep together?”

  I cleared my throat and couldn't meet her eyes for a long moment. “Yeah, I mean, unless that's a problem for you,” I said. “I mean, with a clinic, there’s at least a six-week wait for testing and all of that. But if this is a problem for you then—"”

  “No,” she said quickly, cutting me off. “No problem. No problem with that at all.”

  Her voice came our hoarse and a little raspy, and she took a long drink from her iced tea. I could see her trying to physically compose herself. I recognized it, because I was trying to do the same thing. There really was no graceful way of going about asking her to sleep with me though. I'd done the best I could.

  “No problem at all,” she said. “It's just not what I was expecting.”

  “I've been checked, I have a clean medical history and will share all of the records with you,” I said slowly. “And I'd appreciate it if you could do the same.”

  “Meaning tests for STDs?”

  “Exactly.”

  Her dry laugh took me by surprise. “Yeah, that won't be a problem,” she said. “I'm definitely clean. Just let me know what you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  All of this felt surreal. I felt like I was walking through a dream. We were talking about hooking up and making a baby like it was a business transaction – which, I guess it kind of was. Our conversation about it though, was cold and clinical, only adding to the strangeness of the situation.