Page 25 of Come Ride With Me
Partly because he was caught up in the odd look on Mica’s face. She was staring at Earl, her eyes wide and full of fury. Nash and Mica had been lovers for barely twenty-four hours so he wasn’t kidding himself into believing all that anger was on his behalf. She knew what type of guy Earl was, had witnessed more than a few of his rude moments in the weeks she’d been here, yet Nash had never seen her this enraged by the man.
And before he could get his volleying thoughts together and go to her to make sure she was okay, she started moving. With slow, almost predatory steps, she walked over to him. “Hey,” he said when she was close enough for him to reach for her hand.
But she only shook her head and kept moving until she stopped in front of Earl.
“You will not be selling this dealership, Mr. Banyon. And, while we’re on the subject, if anyone is going to need another job, it’s most likely going to be you,” she said in a tone that was heavily accented, serious, cool and sexier than anything Nash had ever heard.
Earl chuckled, his wrinkled face twisting with the action. “What the hell are you talking about? You have no right. You’re only here to work up some bogus ass report to send to the lawyer. I run this place and I can do whatever I damn well please!”
Mica took another step toward him. The way her brow hiked up at his remark gave the distinct impression that she couldn’t give two fucks about how cold and angry his piercing gray gaze was. “Iownthis place, Banyon. So, despite your delusional thoughts, I will be the one making all decisions about selling or not selling this dealership.”
“You’re a filthy liar!” Banyon yelled. “This place is owned by?—”
“Michel Monroe,” she completed his sentence. “That’s my name, Michel Lynette Monroe. My mother always called me Mica. Bellamy Anderson was my father which, upon his death, made me the sole owner of Bellamy Motors and executor of his estate. All this you’ve been walking around here talking about is yours, isnot. I own this place and I’m firing you!”
Earl was silent. Rock stood with his eyes just about ready to bulge from his face. Nash, well, he just stood rooted to that spot, his fingers unclenching at his sides as he stared at the woman he’d spent a fantastic night making love to and a great day doing community fellowship with. A woman that he had no idea was related to his mentor. A woman, he concluded, he knew absolutely nothing about.
Mica
“You’re his daughter?”
Mica had gone up to her office to find the folder with all the information about the dealership’s current stock. She turned around slowly at the sound of Nash’s voice.
“Yes,” she answered.
He shrugged. “I didn’t know Bell had any children.”
“He didn’t either. Not until two years ago when he saw a picture of my mother and I in a magazine.”
“A magazine? So, you’re really a model and not an accountant?”
“No,” she replied and cleared her throat. “I do have a masters’ in finance. My mother is a photographer. A magazine that she’d worked with for years was doing a special on professional single mothers. My father saw the article and he knew…”
Mica’s words trailed off at that moment. She’d often wondered how Bell had been so certain that she was his child, especially since at that point, he hadn’t seen her mother in over twenty years. Now, it finally hit her. For some reason the reporter had insisted on publishing the children’s entire names before giving their brief bios within the article. Earlier today, when Amy told her the story of why Bell stopped riding, she’d mentioned his sister named Lynette. Her mother had given Mica her aunt’s middle name.
“You came here knowing you were going to take over this dealership. Why all the secrecy? Why not just march through the door and stake your claim?” he asked.
He was irritated. She could tell by his furrowed brow and that muscle twitching in his jaw. That was just great, because she was irritated too. This was not how she’d envisioned telling him. Truth be told, she hadn’t yet figured out how she was going to tell him. As she’d lay in his arms all through the night and each time he’d moved so easily and deliciously inside of her, she had wondered. She’d thought of the words and how best to explain her deception but in the end she had yet to decide when she would put those words out there.
Seems as though fate had a better idea for the big reveal.
“I didn’t think any of you would accept me as the owner,” she said. “And I wanted to learn about the company without the title hanging over my head. If I’d come in and staked my claim everyone would have treated me the same way they treated Banyon,” she spoke, her fingers gripping the folder tightly.
“That’s not true. We all had reason to despise him. That was years in the making and it had more to do with the things he did and said rather than the title he carried. We would have had no choice but to accept you as the heir and rightful owner.”
She wanted desperately to believe his words. “Even if I am younger than all of you and, at that point, had never even taken a ride on a bike?”
Nash shook his head. “Kandra doesn’t ride and yet she’s one of the best sellers on the floor. Don’t you think it was unfair to pre-judge us and make assumptions before you even knew us?”
“I can see that,” she said. “And I get it, really, I do. Because I’ve experienced more judgmental stares and reactions than I care to recall. Which has perhaps made me more cautious about new people. I may have grown up in a big city, but my circle was very small. Trust doesn’t come easily to me.”
“You could’ve trusted me,” he said.
She attempted to cross her arms over her chest, but the folder got in the way. So, she dropped her arms and huffed. “I could say the same to you,” she said and watched him closely for his response. “Why did Banyon say you had a criminal record?”
Nash leaned against the door but didn’t speak right away. He was so ruggedly handsome, so good with his hands whether it be working on bikes or working her. And there was compassion in him. She’d heard it in the way he spoke of Bell that first day they met, and again when he’d talked about his parents.
“My brother was seventeen,” he spoke after another few moments of silence. “I was twenty. I picked him up from school and was giving him a ride home before going to my job at the movie theatre. There was a car stopped in front of me and a tractor trailer in front of the car. I decided to go around them and had to speed up to get out of the lane of oncoming traffic. By the time I pulled over in front of the tractor trailer, a cop had come out of nowhere. He stopped us and asked if he could search my vehicle. I was used to bogus traffic stops but I knew he could ticket me for crossing over into the opposite lane and speeding, so I decided to be as cooperative as possible, hoping to buy myself some points for good behavior.”
