Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (12 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

EVELYN

What is it about
Sebastian and windows?

His
door is open, so I poke my head in to find him standing in front of his desk again,
staring out across the city. Catherine told me to come right up after I had
filled out all of the new hire paperwork. I’m still not sure whether taking
this job was a good idea, even after yesterday. Especially after yesterday. Can
we really ignore all of that and move on to matters that are strictly business?

“Everything
all set?”

I
can see him watching me through the reflection in the window, but I can’t read his
gaze at all. He may as well be looking at one of his motorcycle buddies instead
of a girl he just made come all over her bed last night.

“Yes.
Catherine told me to come right up.”

“Have
a seat.” Sebastian turns and nods toward the chair in front of his desk as he
settles down into the one behind it. He’s my boss now, so this time, I don’t
balk at the order. Instead, I concentrate on ignoring how his broad chest fills
out the dress shirt he’s wearing, or how I know how many tattoos his muscled
body is covered in under that tight cotton. Just like last night, he’s finding
it hard to look at me. Instead, he’s staring past me at the door, as if he’s
expecting someone to come barging through it at any moment.

He’s
got his Bash armor up. He’s not being as gruff as when he wears his leather,
though, so perhaps this is a different form of armor. His Sebastian armor. Just
like the Bash armor, it’s easier to see when you know he’s wearing it. But
probably just as hard to penetrate.

“You
worked for Edward Stonewall, so I know you’re intelligent and can get up to
speed quickly. He’s not known for his patience. So I’m just going to dive right
in and explain what we’re up against here.” When he finally does look at me, I
can see what I’m up against. There are no chinks in this armor. Sebastian is
all business. That’s fine, though. That’s the way I wanted it, right? No more
sleeping with the boss. Move on. Do this job long enough to get something
usable on my résumé, and then find something else. Preferably working for an
older, overweight, less maniacal boss that isn’t running around hiding secret
double lives or trying to ruin my life.

For
the next hour, Sebastian gives me a brief history of Piston and their important
clients leading up to their IPO less than a year ago. Since then, the pressure
has been on to continue to perform. He’s not that happy with it, and flat-out
says that he regrets letting Hans talk him into going public. It’s clear,
though, that Sebastian isn’t a man who dwells on his problems or lives with
regret. He’s a man of action, and so he’s making the best of it.

The
IPO has made him a very rich man, but I haven’t had the slightest inclination
that he cares at all about the money. As he’s mentioned repeatedly, he’d give
up the company in a heartbeat, if he had to—there’d be no contest between this
and his life as an MC prez. Those people are his family, and insomuch as I’ve
ascertained, his heart. Such a contrast from Edward, where the money is the
only thing that matters. Not for how much more it can buy him, he already has
everything he wants or needs, but more as a way of keeping score. Edward’s
attitude is whoever has the most money when he dies, wins.

With
Sebastian, he’s more concerned with keeping away any undue scrutiny on the
secret org structure that makes up Piston. The best way to do that is to keep
making their numbers, and that wasn’t supposed to be a problem. However, a key
shipment of custom parts from Germany went missing over the weekend, and now
one of their biggest deals of the quarter is in serious jeopardy.

“Do
you guys have any idea what happened to the parts? What did the shipping
company say? They must have some sort of tracking on them…”

A
flicker of a frown crosses Sebastian’s face, and he purses his lips. It’s a
moment before he speaks. “They didn’t just get lost in the mail,” he finally
says. “They were stolen. It was a heist of some kind. The police are
investigating, but as far as I know, they don’t have too many leads.”

“Oh,
wow. Do you think it was a competitor? Someone trying to sabotage the deal, or
something?”

“You
watch too many movies,” he snorts. “Competitors have a lot more effective, and
legal, ways to fuck each other over.”

“Oh.
So it was just bad luck then, I guess.”

“Yeah.
Exceptionally bad. But there’s not a lot you can do to help with that directly.
Hell, I don’t know that there’s anything left that any of us can do. But while
our focus is on that, there’s other shit on my plate that is piling up, and I
need someone to take care of that. Even before this shit-storm, stuff was
falling through the cracks. It’s even worse now. So, I need you to plug the
gaps and stuff the leaks.”

“Stop
the leaking flow of shit, check.” I nod, trying to look as serious as possible.

That
gets Sebastian’s attention, and his eyes snap to mine with a curious twinkle. “Exactly.
I guess it’s obvious that I’m lacking a professional filter, where four-letter
words are concerned. I try to contain myself around most people. You already
know I have a… darker side.”

“I
can handle it,” I say with a shrug. I can’t imagine Edward using this kind of
language in the office, but Sebastian is no Edward. That’s a good thing.

After
we figure out a plan, Sebastian shows me to an adjoining office where there is
already a computer set up for me. I get access to his Email, Calendar and his
phone gets routed through my office. It doesn’t take long to realize why so
much is falling through the cracks. There’s a complete lack of organization to
everything, which at least gives me an obvious place to start.

I’m
waist deep in emails from two months ago when a thump on my table drags my
attention away from the computer. There’s a steaming cup of coffee on my desk,
and a strong hand still wrapped around the cardboard koozie.

“I
thought it would be my job to bring you coffee.”

“I
didn’t hire you to get me drinks. But I did notice that my inbox was shrinking,
and you haven’t left your desk since this morning.”

“What
do you mean? What time is it? Oh, crap.” It’s half past one, and I didn’t even
notice. No wonder my stomach is growling.

“There’s
a café on the second floor, by the way. Maybe I’ll give you a tour tomorrow at
lunch.”

“Uh,
sure. Okay. Thanks.”

After
things being all business this morning, I’m both surprised and wary about the
invitation. I pull out the sandwich I brought for today and get back to work. Tomorrow’s
lunch will be tomorrow’s problem.

Even though I worked
fairly late last night, I make sure to get in extra early this morning. I peek
into Sebastian’s door as I walk by and I’m satisfied to see that he isn’t even
in yet. Who knows what type of hours he keeps if he’s spending his nights with
his club, doing God knows what to God knows who?

My
mind can’t help but flash an image of the girl I saw him with that first night.
Was that his girlfriend? Did he cheat on her with me? Twice? Or do the
girlfriends of motorcycle gang members figure that sharing their man is part of
the deal? That’s a completely foreign world to me. Still, thinking about that
girl again bothers me even though it shouldn’t. What he does with her, or
anyone else, is none of my business. I’m here for a job, and that’s it.

I
get back to work, and before I know it, I feel like I’m not alone anymore. When
I look up, I almost jump out of my seat to see Sebastian standing in my doorway,
staring at me. How long has he been there?

“Ready
for lunch?” he asks, seeming oblivious to the fact that he nearly gave me a
heart attack.

Time
flew away from me again.

The
elevator ride is silent, even though we’re alone, and Sebastian is staring
ahead at the double doors as each of the lights at the top of the car descend. Since
he’s not watching me, I’m free to stare at him. The dark hair that always seems
so messy when he’s wearing his leather vest is perfectly straight now, and he
must shave every morning because the stubble that burned along the sides of my
thighs the other night is barely a shadow on his chin. Just the thought of that
sensation causes a little tickle to run along my skin, and I shift my stance to
make it stop.

Something
seems different, though. Something around one of his eyes that I didn’t notice
before.

“You
get a cell yet?” he asks, breaking the silence just before the doors slide
open.

“Oh,
um, not yet. I was going to go after work today and pick one up. I meant to do
it yesterday, but lost track of time.”

“Just
send an e-mail to Armis in IT and we can set you up with a company one.”

“No,
thanks,” I say a little bit too quickly. He looks at me, but I don’t say
anything else. He knows I dropped my other one in the drink at Axle’s, but he
has no idea why. I don’t think Sebastian is the stalker type, and I have no
plans on having a relationship with him anyway, but I’m not taking any more
chances. My next cell phone will be mine alone. “I mean, if it’s okay, I’d
rather just get my own.”

He
shrugs. “Suit yourself. You can expense it, at least, unless you have a problem
with that, too.”

“No,
that would be great. Thank you.”

The
café is more like a cafeteria, and it’s pretty packed with Piston staff. Sebastian
nods to a few people and introduces me to a couple of others, but in general,
it seems like not a lot of people recognize him. He told me he flew under the
radar, but now I believe him.

He
guides me to a table near one of the walls and sits across from me with his
roast beef on a bagel and Pepsi. As he’s looking down at it, I notice what I
had started to see in the elevator.

“Your
eye…” I start to say, but he looks up sharply at me, so I stop myself.

“It’s
nothing,” he says. “I thought I’d covered that up.”

“You
did. I mean, I didn’t notice it until I was looking at you in the elevator… I
mean, because we were so close, and I just noticed it. And then just now, only
because I had seen it before but… what happened?” It looked like he used makeup
to hide a cut of some kind.

“Nothing,
things just got rowdy at Axle’s last night. Don’t worry about it.”

“Things
got rowdy? You mean you got in a fight?”

“It
happens, Evelyn. It’s part of being in the MC. Fights are pretty normal.”

“I
thought you were trying to get them turned around?”

“I
didn’t say I was going to turn them into boy scouts. I’m just trying to keep
them out of prison. Out of doing hard time and throwing their lives away. But I
can’t change who they are. Or who I am, for that matter.”

“So,
you’re fine with that part of the lifestyle? Getting beaten up?”

“I
didn’t get beaten up. You should see the other guy.”