Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (7 page)

The
company is less than ten years old, but has already made a name for itself by
building and designing quality engine parts. They’re worldwide and went public
only last month, but they’re already valued at north of a billion dollars and
have a few thousand employees. It’s a big company, but VI was far bigger, so
the size itself doesn’t intimidate me.

There
have been a few executive changes in the past, but the current CEO, Hans
Peterson, took over about five years ago. I’m not sure I’ll even meet him,
though, as the position I’m applying for is to assist one of the executives,
which is perfect. I’m done with CEOs for now. I need time to step back and lick
my wounds after Edward. I thought I was on track to become an executive myself
at VI, but all of that work is lost. Edward would never back up any claims I
could make as to the work I did over there beyond being a straight EA. The
deals I worked on, sometimes on my own, the relationships I built with clients.
It’s unfair, but given the power Edward wields, it’s clear that all I can do is
learn from it and move on.

For
now, I’ll be happy just finding the right company that I fit into and then
deciding on where to go from there. Piston is likely just a stepping stone
toward that. But I need something to put on my résumé now that VI has left an
unreferenceable void.

The
building I’m in now is their new headquarters, right in downtown Chicago. It’s
a uniquely designed building that is tall and starts thinner at the bottom and
then tapering out at the top. From what I read, the shape was supposed to be
reminiscent of an actual piston. I’ll have to take their word for it.

The
interview is on the twenty-ninth floor, which, according to the rows of
elevator buttons in front of me, is second from the top. At this hour, I’m the
only one going up. Piston owns the entire building, with the executive offices
on top and sales and R&D down below. Manufacturing is done mostly overseas.

I
learned all of that while researching them online. Exceptional research skills
is one of the strengths I list on my résumé. Most people think that searching
for something online begins and ends with putting a term into the Google box
and hitting “search,” but there’s so much more to it than that. I can usually
find a lot more about a company or client than is on their typical homepage
with a little bit of effort.

Usually.

Piston
wasn’t the only thing I had time to research this morning. Just out of
curiosity, I looked up the Chrome Soldiers MC. There was surprisingly little
info about them out there. I guess motorcycle gangs aren’t generally looking
for publicity, but some of the bigger clubs at least had a website, or some
mention of them. I did find a couple of passing references, but nothing major. It
could just be that they are too small time to get much media attention. Finding
that out made me feel a little bit better, anyway. At least it wasn’t like I
slept with a contemporary of the Hell’s Angels.

Probably.
I guess it could also mean that they just haven’t been caught doing whatever it
is they do, yet.

The
elevator chime brings my thoughts back to the present and I shake away the
remnants of leather and stubble that seem to still be drifting through my head.
I need to focus on this interview. Right now, this job is my only hope.

The
reception foyer is mostly decorated in shades of gray and black, with smoky
glass tables and a lot of sharp angles. Behind a big desk made of metal with
chrome finishings sits a woman staring at a computer screen. Her eyes flit over
to me as I approach, and she smiles.

“Evelyn
Silver to see Miss Li?” I say.

The
receptionist nods and stands. “Of course, she told me to bring you right in. Follow
me.”

I’m
led through a door behind her desk and down a corridor until we reach an
office. The name plate says Catherine Li, HR. After a quick knock, the door
opens and the receptionist nods a goodbye as a young Asian woman greets me.

“Miss
Silver?”

“Yes,
how do you do?” I ask, shaking her hand. Catherine smiles and motions to a
chair as she closes the door.

“So,”
she says, picking my résumé up from her desk and glancing down at it, “tell me
about yourself, Evelyn.”

It’s
a question I’m completely prepared for, and I launch into the best sales pitch
of myself that I can. Catherine listens and asks a few follow-up questions, and
within twenty minutes I’m feeling much more confident. I can tell from her body
language that Catherine is satisfied, and even impressed, with my answers.

“Well,
you certainly sound qualified for this job,” she says at last. “I assume at
this point you might be interested to hear more about the specific position and
who you’d be working for?”

My
heart starts to beat a little bit faster as a smile breaks out across my face. “Absolutely.”

Catherine
turns and opens up a drawer in her desk, removing some papers and placing them
between us. “At this point, then, I will require you to sign an NDA. There are
certain aspects of the company that we wish to keep secret, but that we will
need to discuss if we are to give you more information. I realize it is not
completely standard to sign an NDA during an interview, however, it is
absolutely a requirement if you wish to proceed. Feel free to take all the time
you need in reading it.”

I
nod as I pick up the papers. I’ve worked with enough NDAs under Edward to know
whether or not they were on the up and up, so it only takes a quick skim to see
that she’s telling the truth. There is nothing out of the ordinary about it, so
I see no harm in signing it.

“Excellent,”
Catherine says, as soon as I drop the pen back down onto the table. “So, this
position is very similar to the one you described working in at your last
company. The only difference, or at least the main difference, is in who you
will be working for.”

“Right,
I understand that it won’t be for the CEO. I’m okay with that.” She’s probably
worried that I’d consider reporting to anyone less than the CEO a step down,
but in reality, it is exactly what I’m looking for.

Catherine
purses her lips for a moment and nods. “Piston is structured a little bit
differently than most companies, but Mr. Redding has asked me to allow him to
explain.”

“Mr.
Redding?” I ask. Catherine stands up and so do I, as a reflex.

“Yes,
he’s the one you’ll be reporting to, and if you’ll follow me, he’s also the one
that will take over the interview from this point. He has asked to meet
personally with any candidate’s that I feel are qualified, and as I mentioned,
you certainly are that.”

“Uh,
sure,” I say. My earlier confidence is waning a bit, but I remind myself it’s
perfectly normal to have a second interview with the person that you would be
directly reporting to. There’s no reason to worry now. It’s a good thing, in
fact. They aren’t making me wait by the phone for days and then have to come
back for a second interview. She thinks I’m qualified enough to go straight
through.

By
the time we get back to reception, I’m walking a little bit taller and the
smile is back on my face.

“He’s
just above us,” she says as she leads us into the elevator and presses the
number thirty.

We’re
silent during the short ride as thoughts begin to swirl through my head. I did
do a cursory read through of the top executives at Piston and I don’t recall a
Mr. Redding. Only the top VP levels were listed by name, though. I wonder how
far down the corporate ladder this guy is?

It’s
only a short walk across plush carpet and a brightly lit corridor before we
reach a big grey door with the name Sebastian Redding over it. No title.

Catherine
knocks, and a muffled male voice calls out from inside immediately. “Come in.”

“Ready?”
Catherine asks. I nod, anxious to meet the man that I’ll hopefully be working
for. Maybe they’ll even hire me today, on the spot. That would save me so much
stress. I take a deep breath and remind myself of the very successful and
positive interview I just had with Catherine.
I’ve got this. I just have to
impress him and I’m in. Piece of cake.

Catherine
opens the door and steps aside to let me enter.

It
takes every ounce of will I have to contain the shriek of surprise that almost
escapes my lips. I know the dark, piercing eyes I’m staring into, only the man
they belong to isn’t who I know as Mr. Redding.

The
man in front of me is the one I know as Bash.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

SEBASTIAN

From the look on her
face, I’m not sure who is more surprised, me or Blondie. The only thing that
saves us from getting busted is that Catherine is looking at me, not her. But
she won’t be for long. I need to get rid of HR before this gets out of control.

“Mr.
Redding, may I introduce Evelyn Silver? She’s a candidate for the EA position
we’ve been advertising for, and I think—”

“Thank
you, Catherine, I can take it from here.” I stand up and walk toward the women,
keeping a smile on my face even as I dismiss her prematurely. Her smiles
falters for a moment, but then she nods and excuses herself. Catherine has been
around long enough to know that tact isn’t one of my strong suits, so I know
she’ll forgive me.

“What
are you doing here?”

Blondie—or,
Evelyn, I suppose—gets the question out as soon as the door closes, and before
I have a chance to ask the same thing. At least she had sense enough not to say
anything in front of Catherine.

“I
own this company,” I growl, with an edge to my voice that I don’t usually use
at the office. It’s not the first time I’ve had to use it today, though.
What
else can go wrong?

Evelyn
gapes at me. “What?”

I
let out a calming breath, trying to remind myself of where I am. Normally,
that’s not a problem. It’s one of many reasons I keep both sides of my life
completely separate and insulated from each other. But seeing her here is
almost like a trigger, bringing out the Bash in me. “Sit down.”

I
make my way back around my own desk and ease myself heavily into the well-worn
leather chair behind it. Evelyn still hasn’t moved from the doorway. “I said
sit down.” The edge is creeping back, but it gets her moving at least. Slowly. She’s
watching me with every step, like I’m a wild animal that’s gotten past its bars
at the zoo. I watch her just as carefully, but not because I’m worried she
might attack. More because I’m trying to remember what she looks like without
all those clothes. Fuck, this girl is gorgeous.

Whether
as an act of defiance or because she’s still considering whether to run, she
only stops at the chair in front of my desk but doesn’t sit. “What do you mean,
you own this company? It’s a public company, with Hans Peterson as the CEO. You’re
just a…”

I
raise my eyebrow, interested to see how she finishes that sentence. She’s smart
enough not to, but she should have been smart enough not to have started it in
the first place. She’s got that unexpected edge to her that I saw at the bar on
Saturday night. The one I’m pretty sure she keeps caged up most of the time.

“A
thug?” I finish, watching her closely. She blinks and licks her lips, but
doesn’t say anything. “A criminal?” Still nothing, but I can tell she’s
uncomfortable now, and I have no intention of reassuring her. “You don’t know
the half of what I am. But why are
you
here, Evelyn?” I resist the urge
to call her Blondie, intentionally not answering her question as I try her real
name out on my tongue for the first time. It fits a corporate setting.

“I
sent my résumé in a week ago. For an EA position. To an
executive
.” She
says that last word like an accusation. As if she’s trying to remind me of her
own question, but I’m the one in charge here, and I think she might need to be
reminded of that.

“Did
you know that we check references before we even call people for an interview? It
saves us time.” I can see in her eyes a spark now. She suspects what might be
coming and shifts her weight back and forth between her feet uncomfortably. “Your
references were impeccable, of course. It’s rare that a person puts a reference
on a résumé that isn’t going to give them a glowing review.” She visibly
relaxes, assuming she’s out of the woods. Time to pounce.

“But
there was one reference that was noticeably missing.” Bingo, back stiffens,
hands tightening around the back of the chair in front of her. “It’s odd that
you would work for someone so high-profile as Edward Stonewall and not use him
as a reference. So I called him anyway and wow, he does
not
like you.”

Pow.
She caves, like I’ve just knocked the wind out of her. I just meant to take her
down a peg, pay her back for whatever it was she wanted to call me earlier. Why
do I feel so guilty all of a sudden?

“Relax.
Edward is an ass. That’s why you’re here. Him telling me adamantly not to hire
you is about as glowing of a recommendation as you can get.”

“You
jerk!”

“Excuse
me?” I lift my eyebrow again and her eyes widen as she remembers where she is
and who I am. At least, who I am today.

“I’m
sorry, I just—”

“Never
mind.” I wave my hand dismissively. I’ve made my point; I can’t blame an honest
reaction, and since when do I give a shit about insults? I prefer someone that
speaks their mind. “Look, everyone has their own side of a story, and we can
get to yours. I’m just letting you know that I spoke to him and I know he’s a
shit…” A flash from the other night pulls at my brain and everything clicks
into place. “He’s the guy from the bar, isn’t he? I thought his snooty voice
sounded familiar.”

Evelyn
gusts out a breath and nods. She looks almost ashamed, but she keeps her head
up. “Yes. I thought you said you knew him?”

“I
know
of
him. He has a reputation. But our paths haven’t crossed before.”

“Well,
apparently, no one else sees through him like you do, because he’s done as he
promised. You’re the only company that’s called me back.”

I
bark out a laugh, but the look she gives me tells me she doesn’t see the same
humor in the situation. “It’s because of his reputation, not necessarily his
lies, that they aren’t calling you back. They’re afraid of him. Of what he’ll
do to retaliate. That’s the difference. I’m not.”

“Oh.”
Evelyn purses her lips for a moment before squeezing them forward as she
thinks. The movement reminds me of what it was like to kiss those lips.

“So,
let me guess: you two were fucking, and you broke up. He probably cheated on
you. What happen, you catch him fucking his secretary or something?”

A
darkness passes over her face so quickly I almost look out the window to see if
there’s an approaching storm.

“We
weren’t just
fucking
. We’d been together for months. I had just moved
in.” There’s anger in her eyes, but I’m not sure whether it’s directed at me,
or him. She pauses for a minute, and then adds, “But the rest is right.”

“Are
you shitting me? He was actually fucking his secretary?”

“Not
his
secretary—she worked for the head of sales—but yes.”

She’s
looking down now, likely embarrassed but I can’t help but bark out another
laugh. “What a fucking walking cliché that asshole is. What the hell were you
doing with a guy like that, anyway?”

“You
mean as opposed to a guy like you?” she shoots back, the fire in her eyes
returning as she lifts her gaze up to meet mine. I struggle to keep a smile
from my face.

“You
have no idea who I am.”

“Yes,
I do. You’re Bash. A leather-wearing, motorcycle thug that apparently has a day
job working at an auto parts company.”

“In
this office, you’re to call me Sebastian. Or Mr. Redding. Never Bash.” The tone
in my voice makes Evelyn jump, and she closes those beautiful lips down on
whatever else she was going to say. I might be pretty laid back about some
things, but not that. I’ve spent far too much time and energy keeping my lives
separate for her to come in and blow it.

“Sit
down,” I say one more time. This time, she obeys. “Catherine brought you in
here, which means you’ve signed the NDA, right?”

Evelyn
simply nods, and I wonder if I’ve scared her into silence. That gives me some
hope, since what I need from her most is her silence. About a lot of things. But
she’s here now, however complicated that is, and she already knows about the
MC. There’s no point in holding back the rest. She’s professional enough to
respect an NDA. I need an assistant, and she’s qualified. All I can do is
continue on with what I had planned and figure the rest of this shit out later.
I can’t waste all day on this. I still have to deal with the shit-storm that
the stolen truck has caused.

“Fine.
Then, to answer your earlier question… When I said I own the company, what I
mean is that I’m the majority shareholder at Piston. But more than that, I’m
the founder of this company.”

Evelyn’s
face isn’t made any less beautiful when it’s painted over with confusion, and my
mind drifts back one more time to the other night and kissing those lips. I
haven’t stopped thinking about those lips in the last couple of days, or any
other part of Evelyn. More than I should have. I never thought I’d see her
again. Certainly not here.

She
has no idea what sort of a bind she’s put me in by walking through my door.