“Uh-huh. Well, no, it’s not like that between us. We hang out together every now and then but it’s definitely nothing romantic.”
“Was it ever?”
“No. Why? Are you interested?”
Mark shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “She was interesting,” he said, his eye flitting back and forth as he purposely avoided his brother’s gaze. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her a little better.”
Luke folded his arms over his chest, a raised eyebrow studying his brother carefully. Mark’s reputation with women was scandalous. His love-’em-and-leave-’ em attitude had left many a broken heart across the great state of Texas, the whole Eastern Seaboard and some international territories as well.
Luke shook his head from side to side. “Michelle’s not that kind of girl.”
“Why does it have to be like that?” Mark asked, his tone voicing his annoyance at his brother’s presumptions. “I can’t just get to know a nice girl?”
“I’m sure you’ve gotten to know a few of them. That’s half your problem. Michelle deserves a nice guy and there ain’t nothing nice about you, big brother.”
Mark pretended to pout. “My feelings are hurt.”
“I doubt it,” Luke said.
“You don’t give me any credit. John was just saying that I might meet me a nice girl like Marah and really start to think about settling down. Mitch might be that girl, but how will I know if you’re going to stand in the way of my getting to know her and letting her get to know me? She might actually like me.”
“She might and then again…” Luke’s voice dropped off, his eyes rolling skyward as he teased his sibling.
Mark chuckled. “So, are you going to put in a good word for me or not?”
Moving toward the door, Luke said nothing. As he paused in the entrance, he turned back to face his brother. “I’ll give it some thought and let you know,” he said finally.
Mark chuckled again, lifting that stack of papers from the desktop. “Fine. Be like that,” he said. “And here I was going to help you with your analysis.” He held the documents out toward Luke.
“That is so like you,” Luke said, taking the papers from his hand. “I should have known you’d resort to bribery,” he teased.
Mark laughed. “Did it work?”
Luke laughed with him. “Oh, heck, yeah!”
“That’s what I thought. So when do I get your girl’s telephone number?”
Luke’s eyes widened with amusement. “Did you get Marah’s e-mail?”
Mark looked confused. “What does Marah have to do—”
“Did you get Marah’s message about her meet and greet at the club?” Luke asked again, interrupting his brother.
Mark nodded. “Yeah. So?”
“Make sure you’re there.”
“Why?”
“Because Michelle will be. Then you can ask her for her telephone number yourself.”
Mark stared at his brother thoughtfully, a bright smile warming his face. He pointed his index finger in the man’s direction. “Now who’s bribing who!” he exclaimed cheerfully.
Luke grinned back. “Now, about those numbers…”
It just might be a nice gig, Michelle thought to herself as she read the formal letter that had come to her via express mail. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be. She had purposely ignored the document at first but, Simon being Simon, he had pulled it from the trash bin where she’d thrown it and had waved it wildly for her attention.
Michelle read the details for the hundredth time, her emotions waffling back and forth as she mulled over the possibilities. Had she even anticipated this happening to her when she’d gotten up that morning she would have rolled back under the covers and stayed there. She hadn’t been at all prepared for the business opportunity that happenstance had just afforded her.
It wasn’t every day that a woman was offered the position of head mechanic for a NHRA Pro Stock motorcycle team and Michelle could now say that she’d not only been offered the position, but that the offer had come with an endorsement from a former president of the NHRA. Not bad for the little girl most thought would never find her way back to the racing tracks after her father’s untimely death years earlier.
Michelle had been her father’s protégée, Brent Mitchell Coleman teaching her everything about the mechanical operations of an engine. Michelle had doted on the man, following him around like a second shadow from the moment she could walk and talk. Her mother had disappeared from their lives before Michelle’s fifth birthday and her father had become the center of her world.
As a little girl, a garage had been Michelle’s playground, pneumatic air tools the toys she played with. By the time she was sixteen years old Michelle could overhaul an automobile engine like a seasoned professional, her skills outranking those of many grown men.
Over the years her father had raced anything on wheels but motorcycles had been his first love. Michelle remembered well the day her father had received his own formal invitational letter to drive a bike for one of the most prestigious Pro Stock motorcycle teams in competition. The two had celebrated with a large pepperoni pizza and ice cold bottles of Corona beer.
Both Michelle and Simon had been a part of the pit crew, maintaining her father’s bike and keeping him on track. The accident had been a fluke of sorts, coming just before one of the largest national races. The win would have ranked her father as the number one seeded driver in the nation and Michelle had been sure he would win. Instead, the fatal crash had ended all of their dreams and left Michelle completely devastated. She was still haunted by the memory of the brake line that was found mysteriously severed. The formal investigation had ruled it an accident, but Michelle had always been convinced that accidents like that didn’t just happen without a little outside help. She still blamed herself for not double-checking her father’s bike one last time.
Michelle heaved a deep sigh, folding the formal document back into the legal-size envelope it had been delivered in. Tossing it back on the counter, she returned to the inventory she’d been taking, her focus on the box of gaskets and pipes she’d been counting.
Simon was still eyeing her from across the room, waiting hopefully for a reaction that he knew Michelle wasn’t going to show. Never one to be outwardly demonstrative, they’d all grown used to Michelle’s passive demeanor, the expressionless eyes that never gave a hint to her feelings. Simon knew that Michelle wouldn’t let him know if she were interested in the job or not until she was on the payroll. But he was excited for her and didn’t mind letting her know. The young woman’s career was definitely on target as far as he was concerned. Now, if they could only do something about her personal life.
Booting up the computer on his desk, Mark had more on his mind than he cared to have. There was a pile of client portfolios on his desk screaming for his attention. Half his day had already been shot to hell haggling with
