Shaking her head, she asked, “Did you pick him to be your brother? No. Did you leave when things were sifting downhill? Yeah, but you didn’t really know me, and…please, you aren’t that much older than me, so cut yourself some slack. It was a sick, sad situation with no good outcome, and you knew it. Did you come back anyway and try to find a way to help? Yeah, you did. Did you keep looking, to try and protect me? Yeah, you did that too. Yep,” she popped the ‘P’ and here she paused, cocking her head to the side with a little grin. “Of course it was in a stalkerish, kinda spooky weirdo way, but still…yep,” she popped the ‘P’ again, “you did that too.”
He gave her a small smile, and she grinned widely back at him, continuing, “Someone told me the other day that I was courageous. I laughed and laughed at what flawed vision they must have, if their version of someone with courage was me. If they thought that of me, they were crazy, because honestly, I’m afraid all the time. All the time. And Reuben, that’s not because of Ray; that’s because of my own messed up family.”
She reached her hand out, laying it on top of his where it rested on the table. “How could I be courageous, when I don’t have the right tools in my emotional toolbox? How could they think me courageous, when all I did, all I had in my life…was fear? I’m…I’m still that way, Reuben. I’ve dealt with all the physical stuff, and I’d like to think I’ve sorted out at least some of the mental and emotional crap, but how can I live up to their expectations of courage,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “when I’m so afraid?”
Wrapping one big hand around her much smaller one, Reuben said, “It’s not about their expectations; it’s about what you can live with in your own headspace,” he tapped the side of his head with two fingers, “and imagine, if courage is equal in any way to the fear we fight through, your courage must surely be mountainous. Without fear, there is no courage, Michaela. When people are without courage, all that fear alone can destroy the person inside of them. I have seen you though, and I know you have buckets full of courage tempered by your fear.”
She tipped her head down, looking at their joined hands on the countertop, not sure how to broach the topic, but wanting everything on the table. “Reuben, you know you don’t have to help me anymore, right? You don’t have to watch out for me…don’t have to protect me, because Ray is…no longer a problem.”
He turned his hand in hers, pulling her arm to get her to raise her chin and look at him. “I know what happened to Ray, Princess. I’m good with it. I am. I heard what you told Mason, and I agree, it was needed. I’m good with it,” letting go of her hand, he reached over and gently rapped the top of her head with his folded knuckles, “but you have to remember, I’ve helped keep you safe now for years. Surely, you can’t be asking me to just give up that honor and excitement right away, can you? I’ll be around, and you’ll be safe. My world will still be right.”
Rubbing the top of her head, she scowled at him. “I can’t stop you, can I?”
“Nope, it’s my calling in life now, Princess,” he grinned.
Tipping her head back and drawing in a deep breath, she asked, “What was that you said about fear and courage existing together?”
Thinking back for a second, he said, “Without fear there is no courage?”
She nodded. “That’s it; I like that. Reuben…Duck…would you help me with a somewhat clandestine venture?”
He looked at her, puzzled. “Clandestine?”
She nodded eagerly, whispering, “I want to get a tattoo.”
59 - Without fear
Mica looked around the office area, for once, totally content with her life. Things were good at work, and at home. After weeks of planning, everything was finally ready for the party tonight. This was almost a re-launch of MishMash as a growing business.
All the decorations and staging of things were in place for the party. The staff had all cleaned up nicely, and were all looking their absolute best. The past few weeks had been crazy busy, but good—really good. She looked down at her sweet floral wrap dress and thought she cleaned up pretty well too. Plus, the loft space looked tremendous—professional, but creative, and fitted out with enough high-quality equipment and trendy furniture to reflect the expert attitude Mica wanted to present to the public.
She and Daniel spent a lot of time together during those weeks. They had sorted out most of the remaining issues and angst left over from the weeks of absence and turmoil. Business at MishMash had picked up a lot—like a whole lot.
Some of that was the result of the hard work and networking Mica had done since opening her business, but most of it was due to Thomas Donnelly and the work they had done for his father’s firm. He had talked endlessly to his friends and counterparts about them and their good work. Apparently, it made him look really good, and he was now on a short list to be transferred to their New York offices.
Daniel worried Donnelly would be looking for a counter favor, but if he tried to pull in a marker for something like that, he was crazy. She grinned, thinking she’d just call Mason to go all biker on his butt.
After watching her struggle with the overwhelming amount of work she and Jess were trying to keep up with, and seeing her fall into bed exhausted night after night, Daniel had finally forced her to sit down for a talk. He made her realize she had two choices on how to proceed, because working herself into a stupor wasn’t an option as far as he was concerned. He could be pretty bossy she’d found out.
According to Daniel, she could either stop accepting work and MishMash could stay where they were in number of clients and projects, or she could expand and hire people to help with the workload. The way he put it really made sense, because as it was, neither she nor Jess were happy, and they didn’t want that frustration to trickle down to clients, ever.
Her initial reaction was to jump towards the first option. It was comfortable and known, and seemed the smarter of the two, but she talked to Jess, finding out what she wanted, which was to expand. So after a couple of weekends hanging with Tug and Roach, who both managed Rebel businesses on their own, and then more late night conversations with Daniel, she took a deep breath and posted full-time employee want ads on developer boards. She filled those spots quickly, and was happy with the way the team was gelling.
Now, her time was unevenly split between the actual work she loved, and all the paperwork she hated—all the boring stuff that came with taking on new clients, new employees, and new projects.
Last night, Daniel asked her, “What do you love doing?” Now she was seriously thinking that getting someone in to help with scheduling, invoices, and the added human resources requirements would be a good thing, but she hadn’t started looking for anyone yet.
Smiling big, she remembered how with Daniel’s confident support, she had approached her landlord about moving the business. That was a scary conversation. Ultimately, Mason had talked her into renting additional space on the same floor. She’d expanded the offices into the adjoining loft area when she hired the two new developers, Erik and Astrid.
Stepping out on faith was terrifying, but she knew both Mason and Daniel were there to offer advice and encouragement anytime she needed it.
Looking around the offices, she thought Jess might have gone a bit overboard in some aspects of party planning. Brandy’s bakery had done the catering for tonight’s sweets and desserts. Jess had put her marketing hat on and printed up a bunch of cards that had the “I Ache, You Ache” logo on them, along with the bakery address and phone number. She’d made sure that the cards were placed strategically near the cupcakes, so that part was fine.
However, because Jess couldn’t decide on flavors for the cupcakes and fillings, there were all kinds of delicious cakes stacked around. There were lemon cream filled, red velvet, butter pecan, and a dozen other flavors waiting for the hungry clients, who would be here soon.
She grinned, thinking there must be a couple hundred cupcakes scattered around the rooms on these fancy little platforms. Thank God B
randy had thought to bring boxes to pack up leftovers, so the employees would be able to take them home. Otherwise, Mica could see herself eating cupcakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the foreseeable future.
Then, once he found out about the party, Road Runner wouldn’t let her hire anyone else to do the appetizers and hors d'oeuvres, so he was their personal chef for the evening.
He’d made an aromatic array of selections that included meatballs in many options. She laughed…meatballs. They had meatballs in cranberry chili sauce, chicken parmesan meatballs, buffalo chicken meatballs, and bourbon whiskey meatballs—lots and lots of meatballs.
He hadn’t stopped there either, creating platter after platter of other finger foods, like feta ricotta spinach rolls, cranberry feta pinwheels, spinach and artichokes in a puff pastry, pesto tortilla pinwheels, and several platters of other baked appetizers that had yet to be uncovered.
The fruit Road laid out looked really, really good too. He arranged halved figs, mini shot glasses of pomegranate seeds, skewers of kiwi, pineapple, blueberries, grapes, and strawberries, and then some pretty skewers of rosemary and raspberries. The food would be a hit, and she only hoped they had enough attendees to eat most of it. Otherwise, again, she saw her gastronomic future laid out on the tables in this room.
Road had talked her into buying a case each of a white zinfandel, and a fruity rose from a local winery. He claimed they would go with everything. There were two bar stations set up, one on either side of the work space. They’d be serving the wine and bottles of Booyah’s beer, which made Daniel very happy.
Samuel Leed, Daniel’s driver, had taken an interest in what Road was doing with the food and was hanging close, ready to help, or so he said. She actually wondered if it was more about the meatballs than helping, and grinned to herself.
Folks were starting to drift in, clients and friends, so she positioned herself near the main entrance. She wanted to ensure she spoke to everyone as they were coming in, and hopefully, on their way out too. Several hours went by as she shook hands and talked about family, weather, sports, and work.
Mason came early in the evening, but couldn’t stay long; he just had Merry ‘womaning’ the bar, and had to get over to Jackson’s. He kissed the top of her head before he left, wrapping her up in his hard arms, whispering to her, “Babe, you are amazing. Always exceeding expectations in every way.”
Molly and Essa had come to Chicago a few days ago, supposedly to help with the party, and Road had put them both to work as his waitresses for the night. It felt good to be able to look up and see her sister walking the room, laughing and talking with the people who were important to Mica in her life here. That created a warm, soft spot in her chest that made her smile.
As the existing and prospective clients filtered in and out, they all soundly congratulated Mica on her success. Slowly, the groupings of people left in the room were filled with friends and family who had all come to celebrate with her. With them.
With her heart full of joy and love, Mica hadn’t been able to stop smiling all night. Well, until the end of the night that is, because by then, she was glad she’d worn her snazzy, dressy flats—if her feet were hurting like they were now, she couldn’t imagine how they would’ve felt if she’d worn her heels.
She saw Daniel talking to Nate DeWalt, along with his buddies Gary, Jason, Steve, and Kenton. She grinned, because she was sure they were talking about the upcoming draft, and which players to pick up and which to drop—all Mallets, all the time, those guys.
Daniel caught her eye and gave her a chin lift to the side of the room, where she saw the young goalie Dierk Hammend watching Molly closely as she carried trays back and forth. She smiled at that, but then her smile faded. Dierk was a nice guy, but Molly had her hands full right now, and Mica couldn’t see her starting a relationship when she had to deal with the little guy growing in her tummy. She did have the cutest little baby bump though, and her face was glowing.
Hearing her name called, Mica turned and was gathered into a hug by Darlene. Daniel’s mom held her tightly for a minute, saying, “Hon, I’m so proud of you. This has been wonderful.” Dickie and J.J. were right behind her, and they both nodded at Mica, giving her high-fives.
J.J.’s friend, Marty Larsen, had come too, and they’d all be joining everyone at Jackson’s later for some wind-down fun. Slate and the rest of the Rebels would be there as well, and she knew Essa was looking forward to spending time with him for sure. He didn’t know she was in town yet; she’d wanted to surprise him.
An arm slipped around her waist, and she turned her head to have her lips captured in a soft kiss by Daniel. “Ready to head out soon, beautiful? Jackson’s awaits!” He grinned. “The girls are packing up the food and cupcakes, and we’ll take it to the bar, okay?”
She nodded. “I’m ready.” Mica looked around the room again with pride and traced her fingers over her ribs, where her new life’s motto was etched in ink.
60 -
Jackson’s
Mason had closed the bar to casual patrons, only letting in the regulars who had known Mica for a while now. Standing behind the bar, he wiped his hands on a bar rag; the immediate rush for libations was over, and the conversation portion of the night had begun.
There was a little bit of a break, so he signaled to Merry that he was stepping away for a few minutes, and then pulled a chair over to the wall. Stepping up into the seat, he sat his ass on the back of the chair, leaving his boots on the seat and leaning his back against the wall. Sitting like this, he had enough altitude he could easily see across the crowded room.
Mica was there, her arm around Daniel’s waist with her fingers tucked into his back pocket. Daniel’s love for her was shining in his face as he looked down at her, his hand on her back playing with the ends of her long hair. She was talking animatedly to J.J., explaining who-the-fuck-knew-what, but the topic mattered to her, and her passion was evident in her body language and smile.
Mason’s heart ached, but less every day since she was moving forward. It helped to know she was in a great relationship with a guy he couldn’t hate, even though God knew he’d tried…hard. He’d been blown away with how much she’d blossomed over the past weeks, just knowing that asshat wasn’t breathing her air anymore. The weight of fear had been holding her back for a long time, so much, that the scope of it hadn’t been clear until it just didn’t fucking exist anymore.
Riding the bike back from Texas had been a huge step towards establishing that her fucking courage was immense, larger by far than the fear ever had been. It was the first of many steps, with the expansion of her business being another huge move.
He remembered how a few weeks ago, Mica called him to come to her. She was freaking out on the phone, so no questions asked, he threw on his leather jacket and jetted to where she was sitting on her bike at the curb in front of Ink Me, a tattoo joint. It was a couple blocks up the street from one of the bars he owned in town, Tupelo’s.
Stumbling off her bike, she’d thrown herself into his arms before he even got the bike turned off. “Mason, I didn’t want to do this without you,” she said against his chest, his arms tight around her. “I wanted you to be here. I…this is for me, but it’s about what you showed me, about me. I need you here.”
He’d soothed her, stroking her hair and reassuring her that he was there, and would stay…wanted to stay. He was honored she had called him, and reminded her how much he loved her and wanted to be there for her. In the end, she settled and picked her head up, just saying his name and nodding her head. Duck stepped out of the doorway, lifting his chin to Mason as he straddled his bike to leave. “Silly’s ready for her,” he called, naming the gal who did most of the Rebel’s tattoos, and Mason nodded.
She’d gripped his hand hard as the artist started up the machine, jerking a little at the first sharp pains. She gritted her teeth as the flowing script was tattooed across her ribcage, just below her breast on her right side. He thought the sentiment
was perfect, and he told her so several times. Without fear, there is no courage summed up the path she’d taken through the darkness and into the light.
Tipping his head back against the wall, he let his mind wander over the past few years. He sat thinking about all the things that had happened to them, everything they’d gone through…and he knew he’d do it all over again if she needed.
All the pain and heartache, he’d still go find her. He was better for having her in his life. She was worth everything, and he muttered to himself with closed eyes, thumping his chest with a tight fist, “A fucking treasure.”
“Are you talkin’ to yourself, Davis,” he heard an amused feminine voice with a white trash drawl ask, “or just to anyone in the general vicinity?”
Looking up, Mason saw a face he had not expected to see ever again, holding himself still with effort. “Carrie Sosa, as I live and fucking breathe.”
Stepping down off the chair, he stood close to the woman who’d walked up beside him. She was dressed in classic biker tramp, with a V-neck shirt that left little cleavage to the imagination, and pants so tight he knew she had gone commando.
Right behind her were Slate and Tug, asking with their eyes if they needed to vacate his volatile ex-wife from the premises. She didn’t come to Chicago often, but when she did, the times had been full of unpleasant hostility and fireworks. That woman could do bitch faster and harder than any other woman he’d ever met.
“What the fuck are you doing here, woman? If I want to lay eyes on you, I can fucking come to Kentucky,” he growled out, putting a hand up to stop Slate from grabbing her arm. That would only make things escalate more quickly than he wanted them to, especially at Mica’s party like this. “I got an offer, Davis, and I need Chase to hang with you for a while,” she spat at him.
Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) Page 40