5 Bikers for Valentines

“And it’s bullshit I’ll have to continue putting up with. Trust me, I know. I’ve already had this conversation with him. But if we keep our heads down and keep working, in a couple of weeks or whatever we’ll be done with this place,” I said.

“I’m worried about you, Emma.”

“Well, this nightmare’s almost done.”

“You can come stay with me tonight if you’d like,” she said.

“Thanks. I might take you up on that.”

CHAPTER 8

It was so nice to have a Saturday off. I woke up on an air mattress on Lindy's kitchen floor, my limbs aching and my hair all knotted up. Her studio apartment was barely big enough for her, but she was always willing to open it up to me if I needed a place to stay. We closed the bar last night and cleaned until almost six in the morning, so once we got back to her place, we were both ready to crash. Now, the birds were chirping, and the sun was streaming through her kitchen window as the microwave told me it was three in the afternoon.

Good thing Sundays and Mondays were days The Skull was closed. Because my schedule was going to be fucked up.

Lindy was still sleeping, and I didn't have the heart to wake her up. I made some coffee in her coffee pot, then kept some on warm for her to have when she finally woke up for the day. I needed a way to clear my head, to forget all about the bullshit my mother pulled on a regular basis and to exist in my dream life for a while. I made a travel mug of coffee and grabbed an apple off the counter, then scribbled a note for Lindy telling her we would meet for dinner.

I made my way down to my car and drove to the warehouse building we had put an offer on.

I pulled up to the building and leaned against my car. As I stared at the empty shell, I pictured what it would be like if I could get it opened and set up. I thought about the walls that would be decorated with posters and antique motorcycle parts. I thought about all the people that would pull in and come and get themselves measured for custom-made leather jackets. I thought about all the women who wanted to wear biker clothing but felt they didn

't have the bodies to pull it off. They could come into my shop and try on all sorts of designs and leave with an entire wardrobe that helped them to express who they knew they were inside.

I could envision the different rooms that were separated by walls. One room held the leather jackets, and another had the denim. There was one that displayed the lacy nightgowns and all the things women could use to spice up their relationships. I saw people lined up out the door waiting to drop their items off so Lindy could fix them, and I saw rooms filled with all sorts of boots and heels and shoes and socks. Everything to rock the lifestyle and be safe on the road is what I was going to sell. I didn’t want to sell an idea or a knock-off of the type of life I saw for myself. I wasn't selling just a fashion line. I was selling a way of life. I was selling an aesthetic. I was selling a sense of freedom and a need for loyalty above all else.

I could taste it as I stood there staring at the building.

I knew it was the perfect place if I could get it up and running. I closed my eyes and imagined what my apartment would look like above the store. Living right above it would enable me to keep long hours without running myself ragged. And longer hours meant more service. I thought about how I would paint the walls, and I thought about the type of furniture I would fill my apartment with. I thought about keeping the space open and sectioning it off with curtains and cloth panels. I would be free to do whatever the fuck I wanted if our offer was accepted. Free from my mother and her drunken antics. Free from the bar. If I had my own place, I could ban her from it. I could kick her out and no longer have to deal with her bullshit.

I could separate myself from her entirely.

I started running calculations in my head to make sure I had the finances right. Between Lindy and I, we had $130,000 for this project. If they accepted our offer of $140,000, and we used $30,000 of what we had as a down payment, then we could get a loan for the other $110,000. That meant we had $100,000 in cash for other things, like decorating the inside of the store and stocking it with everything we wanted to sell. We wouldn't be able to take a profit from that $100,000, but it would enable us to have two to three months to build a reputation without worrying about taking on more debt than we could handle.

If Lindy and I could come out of this with no more than $150,000 in debt, then, if things caved, we could always go back to the bar and work it off between the two of us.

The roaring of a motorcycle behind me caught my attention, and I whipped my head around. I saw one of the twins driving up on his bike, and he pulled up beside my car. He parked himself and walked over toward me, leaning his broad form up against the side of the car I was leaning against. I could feel his body heat radiating toward me, and I had to intentionally settle my breathing at his proximity.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked.

I could tell by the tone of his voice that it was Tanner. He and Tyler looked exactly alike, down to the slight crook in their noses. But Tanner had a lighter lilt to his voice than Tyler did, and that was how I could tell them apart.

“Just thinking about all the things I’m gonna do to this place once I buy it.”

“So, this is the place you put an offer in on?” Tanner asked.

I slowly looked over at him, eyeing him up and down as he grinned at me.

“What? You think all we talk about is sex and beer?” he asked.

“I’m not sure what to think anymore,” I said, giggling. “But yes, this is the place I put an offer in on.”

“How much?” he asked.

“$140,000. Ten grand below their asking price. And the realtor thinks he’ll gratefully accept our offer. It’s been up for sale for four years, and the taxes are draining him,” I said.

“So, what do you see for it?” he asked.

“I see everything. All the walls decorated with posters and antique motorcycle parts. Rooms dedicated to individual pieces of clothing. Prices people can afford and the ability to order custom-made pieces. Leather patchwork and tailoring services and being able to order what you want when you want it and have it at the drop of a hat.”