TRACKING TRISHA - A Black Hounds Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fox and the Hounds Book #1) (5 page)

The woman laced her fingers under her chin. “You’re a run of the mill motorcycle club president? Or should I say CEO of a motorcycle manufacturing company?”

“I’m trying to be,” he smiled, holding up his callused palms to her. “Look at these hands. Do they look like the hands of a CEO? I did honest work like anyone else. I knew what it took to put food on the table.”

Trisha held out a hand. While it wasn’t gnarled like that of an old field hand, it held the battle scars that came from hard labor. “I don’t do much hands-on work these days but I got enough mementos from working as a teenager.”

Dante turned his hands face down. “Trisha, is it alright if I ask you about your business’s finances? I want to know how my new supplier will be faring a few months from now.”

“That’s fair,” she said breaking eye contact. “We’re getting by. The drought and the price competition isn’t helping but we’re getting by. I had trained one of my workers to run the day to day operations while I handle the business side of the equation.”

That was good news for the biker. It was time to spring the offer. “Are you significantly attached to anyone? A fiancé or a boyfriend?”

“No, I’m single and not currently seeing anyone,” she answered in bewilderment. “What’s my marital status have to do with this?”

“I just want to know that I’m dealing with someone who is the sole owner of Foxtail Farms,” Dante said, trying to provide a smokescreen for his questions. “Would you be interested in another line of work? One that would handsomely supplement your existing business?”

“I said we’re getting by,” she replied curtly. “Foxtail Farms won’t sell out. I won’t sell out.”

Trisha’s eyes flared up with rage. Dante could tell the woman had begun to see him as a vulture about to feast on her farm. He had to keep her interested. “I’m not asking for farm or the land that it is on. I’m only interested in you and your time. Would you be willing to work directly for me?”

The farm girl was flabbergasted. “Work for you? For how much?”

“How about a million dollars a month?” he said with a smirk. Dante was all too pleased with Trisha’s stunned reaction. “Of course, I’m up for negotiations.”

The club president would have laughed if the woman didn’t play a crucial part in his company’s future. He needed a woman to be the image of his company’s future. He needed Trisha Kaplan.

Finally, the farm girl found her words. “You’re willing to pay me a million dollars?”

“Yes, our company has reached a significant hurdle… and I believe you are the right woman for the job,” Dante replied, trying to find the right words. “And we’ll compensate you handsomely for it.”

“What is the job about it?” she probed. “You’re technically a car company, right? You need someone to help design a tractor for your new agricultural vehicles section? There are far better qualified people than me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t go into detail about the position due to the sensitive nature of it,” Dante continued. “We’ll require you to agree to a non-disclosure agreement if we are to go through this offer.”

“It’s all confusing but you’re willing to pay a million dollars for a year to work for your company?”

“For each month,” Dante corrected. The Black Hounds had built up a tidy war chest over the years. Twelve million dollars would be a drop in the bucket, especially if the stunt would help their IPO. “I’ll need you to agree to a six month agreement that can be extended to a full year. We’ll provide additional benefits so you won’t have to pay a cent while working for us. Hell, we’ll even direct some of our business partners to your farm.”

Trisha looked to be trapped in a daze. “This is overwhelming, Dante…”

“Trisha, this offer won’t just help you,” the biker continued. “It’ll help your farm. You can pay off all of your debts. You can expand and buy more acres of land. You can even buy out all the other farms.”

The farm girl stopped to digest the offer from the city boy. Dante knew he must have looked like a wish granting genie to her. He was offering enough money for her to shift several tax brackets and never have to do a day’s work ever again.

Strangely enough, it was pocket change for the biker. He spent just as much money on fast motorcycles and cars. Dante chalked it up as a business expense. Just because he needed to scope out the competitions’ vehicles didn’t mean he couldn’t go for a few joyrides. The Black Hound motorcycle company made hundreds of millions each year in profit. Soon, they would be making billions.

And it was poised to make much more once they went public.

“I take it you’re interested?” he asked rhetorically. “We would like to keep this moving quickly. Could you spare a day and meet with us tomorrow? The sooner you start working, the sooner you’ll get paid for your time.”

“S-sure I can do that,” she stuttered. “Just give the address of where I need to go. I can drive my pickup truck to-“

“No need for that,” Dante interrupted, picking up his empty plate and placing it in the sink. “I can arrange transportation for you. Just be ready tomorrow at around the same time as now. We can discuss the specifics of the deal once you arrive. I should be heading home by now if I want to beat the highway traffic.”

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Trisha replied. “I’ll walk you out.”

Dante followed her to the entrance. “Trisha, it was a pleasure having dinner with you. I hope this is the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship between us”

The woman leaned against the wall in disbelief. “You’re talking as if I’ve already accepted the deal.”

“I can’t blame a fox for being cautious around the hounds,” Dante replied with a boyish grin. “Just hear our case before you make your decision. Goodnight, Trisha.”

A few seconds later, Trisha heard the roar of a motorcycle. It soon disappeared into the distance. And just like that, Dante Alastair was gone.

Trisha Kaplan was troubled as she tossed and turned in her bed. For months, she felt like she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Now, she felt like she was at the tail end of a fleeting dream.

A handsome biker had arrived at her doorstep and offered her millions. The money would solve all of her problems. All of her debts would be gone along with her worries. She wouldn’t have to act so cheap like stretching out a tube of toothpaste over a whole month. Trisha hated fighting for that last piece that would get stuck behind the nozzle.

The offer seemed too good to be true. Even during the good years, the farm didn’t make as much as twelve million dollars in a year. Dante’s produce order alone would keep the farm going on for a few more months.

Trisha wondered what the man had planned for her. The money didn’t sound like something that could be earned through honest, hard work. More importantly, it was coming from a source with a less than sterling reputation.

Trisha had read that about the Black Hound motorcycle club’s troubled past. They had originated as a vigilante group meant to protect their hometown. The locals were under threat from gangs and the police wouldn’t step in.

However, vigilantism often meant weapons trafficking and armed robbery. The club had a violent reputation for engaging in shootouts with their rivals. Their former sergeant at arms, Cassius Alastair, had even been arrested for robbing a shipment from a rival gang. This led to his arrest and the FBI getting involved in on the ongoing investigation. From then on, the motorcycle club was on the straight and narrow.

Allegedly, the Black Hounds had transformed themselves from an outlaw club into a legitimate business. However, many doubted their sincerity, including Trisha. No legitimate business would give a small time farm owner that much money unless they were expecting something in return. They wanted something from her or her farm.

Trisha wondered if they were involved in the drug trade. Perhaps they wanted her farm to grow illegal drugs. They could use her failing farm as a new site to cultivate new strains of drugs.

Well, the joke would be on them. A local sheriff’s office was a ten minute walk from her farm. Besides, most drugs had a hard time being cultivated north of the equator. For that much money, it would be easier to buy their own land.

She didn’t know what the catch was to this deal. Perhaps they wanted to help them in an armed robbery. The Black Hounds were notorious for their elaborate and often successful robberies and hijackings of vehicles. Perhaps the whole motorcycle manufacturing business was a cover for their less than legal activities.

However, the company was making record profits. While the motorcycle company wasn’t publically traded yet, there had been leaks about their internal financial statements. Their business valuation had practically doubled overnight from that leak. They would make more money manufacturing vehicles than they would from stealing them. It would seem stupid to risk all of that to rob an armored car from a bank.

The amount of money they promised her was ludicrous. She didn’t know what she would do with the money she would have after paying off her debts. Her workers could paid a better wage. She could buy more land and build more farms. Trisha could make the Foxtail Farms even more successful than it had ever been.

She knew that she would listen to whatever Dante Alastair had to offer. The man was interested in her for some reason. Trisha didn’t know whether she would accept or not. She just wanted a way to help her business without betraying the principles thought to her by her parents.

Hopefully, he would keep buying produce from Foxtail Farms regardless of her decision.

“She’s perfect, Lucia!” Dante exclaimed, getting up from his chair. He always found the club president’s seat to be uncomfortable. Patched up bike seats looked more regal than that oversized piece of furniture. However, it was still a part of club history no matter how badly it failed at being a comfortable chair. “She’s a young, hardworking woman with a spotless record. She needs the money.”

“Are you sure we need her?” Lucia asked rhetorically, looking outside the window of their motorcycle club. Trisha Kaplan was due to arrive here at any moment. This was assuming she agreed to meet with them. “I like desperate. I don’t like smart enough to poke holes through your ruse. We need someone we can control.”

Uncle Cass chipped in. “Dumb and docile would be preferable. Think she’ll play hardball with us and hold out for more money?”

Lucia flipped through a stack of papers. “No, the farm probably has a couple of months left. Stiff competition and an untimely water conservation act have cost her a lot of business. The land that it’s on is worth more than the farm itself at this point. There’s just too much debt and insolvency for a rival farm to swoop in and chisel off the name in favor of their own.”