Page 30 of Ace of Spades

Joey crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.

"Will you ever let me live that down? Any of you?"

"No," we all say in perfect unison. Well, almost all, Ghost just shakes his head in silent protest.

Just as Joey's about to storm off, a motorcycle pulls up with a rider in a pink jumpsuit and matching helmet.

I don't need to see them take off the helmet to know exactly who it is.

"Fuck," I curse to myself.

I'm hoping she'll realize showing up here is a bad idea and just turn around.

Maybe then I don't have to be confronted with the uncomfortable situation that is being attracted to my best friend'ssupposeddaughter.

Please go.

Instead, Sienna swings her legs over an orange Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883 like she's done it a million times. It’s the kind of bike that screamsI’m a rebel.

She moves with the cool confidence of a woman who hasn't yet had the life entirely knocked out of her. It’s refreshing, if not also incredibly annoying.

Mostly because I haven’t succeeded in stopping myself from thinking about that damn kiss.

I work up the nerve to approach her, just as the crew's eyes shift over to me.

"Sorry, our hands are full today. You'll have to wait in line if you want work done," I cross my arms over my chest as she meets me at the garage entrance.

That long red wavy hair is flowing behind her, helmet tucked under an arm.

"Then I guess it’s a good thing I'm not here to get work done, Mr. Steele. I'm heretowork."

She stops just a few feet in front of me nodding at the crew behind me. I turn to look at them all gawking at her.

"Get to work," I call back to them and a flurry of bodies start moving instantly.

'What are you talking about?" I say, voice lowered, turning back to her. Those green eyes watch me with mischief.

"You didn't get the memo?"

When I only stare back at her with as little emotion as I can pretend, she adds, "I'm your new assistant."

Without another word, Sienna steps around me and walks into the garage like she owns the place.

New what?!

"The hell you are," I call out to her.

Stomping behind her like a buffoon to keep up with her steady strides.

“You see, I had a chat with Brody King, you know, majority owner of this place,” she motions around her.

“And he told me that none of the positions have in fact been filled. Instead, he informed me that you are currently acting as both the shop foreman and the fifth mechanic.

“It’s my shop. I can act as whatever I damn well, please.”

“Of course, you can. And he says he can’t stop you but he can help you, by hiring me.” She smiles and then makes her way to Joey and Benji. "Ho-ly shit," Sienna says, nearly breathless. "Is that a ‘41 Indian Four?"

"You know your bikes," Benji says, clearly impressed. "This one can't even tell the front fender from the back one most days."

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