I had no idea what she was talking about until she placed the Indian figurehead in my hand. I was struck silent as I studied it. They were rare, especially in this condition.
“I knew my dad had one a long time ago. I thought it was gone, but it was in the boxes! You can add it to the bike!” she exclaimed, dancing around in her excitement.
I had no response other than to lift her off her feet and kiss her. She was constantly full of unexpected surprises. This was a particularly good one.
Now, it graced the front of the bike, shining and epic. I rarely rode the bike anymore, instead using it as a display and taking it on occasion when I appeared at events to talk about restorations. It was a crowd-pleaser, but I only did it rarely. The bike had too much sentimental value to risk it being damaged or stolen.
Brett ran the garage, and our reputation was top-notch. I had made Stefano and Brett both part owners, and they were as diligent as I was about our status. Brett was a born leader, and the staff respected him. The garage was now renamed Reynolds & Co. Restorations and Repairs.
In the garage, the newly expanded area was busy. I raised my hand as I went through, pleased with what I saw. All bays full, all hands on deck, and a full schedule for the day. I passed Chase Donner, who greeted me with a grin. “Hey, Maxx.”
I tilted my chin. “How’s it going?”
“Great. On my way for another pickup.”
“Safe trip.”
He smiled and picked up the keys to the truck, walking out of the garage, whistling. I could recall the day he had shown up at the garage. I was busy working on a bike when Brett interrupted me.
“You might want to go out front.”
“Problem?”
“Chase Donner is talking to Charly.”
I was outside in five seconds flat. I headed toward Charly, already growling. What the hell was he doing here? And why was she even speaking to him?
Chase saw me and backed up, holding up his hands. His brother was in jail, their father apparently finally washing his hands of his sons. Chase was given a light sentence and had come home a few weeks ago.
“I’m not here to make trouble.”
“Why are you here, then?” I snarled.
Charly put a hand on my arm. “Chase came to apologize to me, Maxx.”
That gave me pause.
“I see.”
Chase stepped forward. “I’m sorry for everything. All the trouble Wes caused, the fact that I was driving that day when Charly got hurt. I want to do something to make up for it.”
I grunted. “You said your piece. You can leave now.”
Charly frowned at me. “No, he wants to do something, Maxx. He’s trying to find his feet.” She gazed at him with a sad smile. “No one will give him a chance.”
“Hardly surprising,” I snorted.
He didn’t react. “I deserve that. But I’ve had some counseling, and I know what I did was wrong. I’m trying to move forward.” His hands gripped the baseball cap he was holding, his fingers moving restlessly. “I wanted to offer my services if there was anything I could do to help you. To make up for what I did.”
“First off,” I snapped, “you can’t make up for it. Second, if you think I would let you anywhere near this place or my wife, you—”
“Maxx!” Charly snapped, interrupting me.
I stared at her, and she pulled me to the side. “He needs a chance. He’s trying to make a fresh start.”
I gaped at her. “You expect me to help him?”
She crossed her arms, glaring. “You gave me a chance once.”
“Totally different.”
She tilted her head, tapping her foot. “If I can forgive him, then you should too. After all, he is the one who put his own brother behind bars because of how terrible he felt. That says a lot about his character.”
I knew that stance. The tapping of her foot and the inflection of her voice. She wasn’t going to back down on this. “What do you want, Red?”
“We’re getting busier all the time. We need someone to shuttle customers when they drop off their cars. Pick up parts. Wash cars. Run errands for me.”
“You expect me to give him keys to a company truck?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yes. It’s called trust. He needs a place to live and something to do. He needs help. The room in the garage is vacant. He has a parole officer willing to vouch for him,” she insisted.
Jesus, she not only wanted me to let him work here but live here too.
“It’s menial work,” I pointed out.
“I’d do it,” Chase spoke up. “I would do anything, Mr. Reynolds. Please give me a chance.”
I looked in his eyes and saw nothing but honesty and desperation. I looked at Charly, who gazed back at me, her eyes pleading. “Please,” she whispered. “I’m asking for me.”