Chapter 3: KAT

I'm extremely nervous. It's my first day on the job and already I'm dreading it. The work shouldn't be a problem. I'm kinda smart, so taking orders and putting them into a computer spread sheet should be easy enough, but Jared hadn't told me his boss was so...male. Then again Jared doesn't know my little secret, no one does. "Kat, you sure you want to do this so soon. Why don't you give yourself some time?" "It's okay, dad, I need to stay busy. Don't worry about me, Jared will be there, so I'll be fine." "If you're sure, I just don't want you to think you have to work. I can give you an allowance until you decide what you want to do." "Thanks, dad, that's sweet, but I'm cool. Now eat your breakfast and get to work." "Yes ma'am, you know you don't have to do this everyday. I can always grab a bite at the diner on the way." "It's no trouble, dad, stop worrying." "So, how's this new boss of yours, he seem like a nice guy?" I took my time answering. I knew because of what had happened in Arizona everyone felt they had to shield me from everything, but I didn't want them to. I was wounded yes, but not broken, and I fought very hard not to be that person. "He seems nice enough, dad, it's just answering phones and keeping track of supplies and stuff like that, no biggie." "I could probably get you on part time down at the station as a filing clerk or something, just for the summer, until..." "Dad, I'm fine, so stop worrying about me. I'm okay, I promise." "Okay, Kat, I'll back off, but if things change, then you let me know right away." "Okay, dad." I kissed his cheek as I heard Jared outside. "You tell that scamp to be careful with you on that death trap, or I'll have his hide." "Yes sir." I left the house before he locked me in my room to keep me safe from the big bad world. "Hey, Jared." "Morning, Kat, you ready?" "As I'll ever be." I climbed on the back of his custom made bike, and the legs of my baggy trousers almost covering my ballet flats. I loved the feel of the wind on my face as it rushed by, the freedom I felt on the back of a bike; it felt like I could just fly away from it all. We got to the bike shop way too soon, and Jared left me to go in by myself as he sauntered off to the shop in back. My palms were sweating, and I felt sick. Get a grip Kat he's just a guy. Just don't pay any attention to his arms or his tattoos or his face, shit, just don't look at him. "You plan on hanging around out here all morning, Sloane?" I almost jumped out of my skin, where the hell had he come from? "No sir...uhI mean no, Mr. Lyon." "Colton, my name is Colton, and I believe I told you about talking to the ground when addressing me." Shit, does that mean I have to look at him, not good. I lifted my head and hoped for the best. Well hell, didn't the man wear anything other than muscle shirts How's a body supposed to breathe around all that hotness. Down girl he's way out of your league. I took a deep breath and tried again. "Colton, I'm ready to get to work if you'll just show me where to start." Good, my voice didn't crack or anything. He turned to lead the way into the office, and I got a look at his buns. Shit, was there anything about the man that wasn't perfect? And how had I forgotten that I would be working this close to him. Please, God, let him spend most of his time in the shop, and not cooped up here in this office with me. I wouldn't last a week. "Something on my ass?" Oh shit, kill me now, the worlds hottest man had just caught me staring at his ass. My mortification knew no bounds. *** "Oh, no, Uhmmmm, I wasn't looking at your...uhmmmm, my mind just wandered there for a minute." Yep, right into the gutter. He kept going, and dropped it, thank God. I shrugged my shoulders trying to keep the too large suit jacket from falling off of me. I'm sure I looked a sight. I hated it, but I needed it, so baggy clothes and drudgery had become my crutch since the incident, and it was hard to give them up. The fact is, I hadn't really felt alive in a long time, until yesterday when I first laid eyes on Colton Lyon. A part of me that I had believed died at callous hands came back full force without warning. Now all I had to do was keep my head on straight and stop obsessing over his fuck-hot body and those to die for tattoos. "This will be your desk, and mine's through that door, so you'll have the place to yourself mostly since I'm usually in the shop working, or on the showroom floor." "No one comes in here when I'm not around. My guys already know this." "I run a tight ship, no slacking off. You get an hour lunch, and your hours are nine to five, unless I need you to stay a little extra for some reason. That shouldn't happen too often, but it could happen. You know your way around a computer?" "Yes sir...uh I mean, Mr. ... Colton." It's not my fault that I was a stuttering, blushing mess. For crying out loud, you should see him. He's standing with his arms folded, which only makes them seem more built, legs braced apart, biker boots, tight black tee stretched across his chest with a picture of a naked Betty Boop on the front. His tats are dark and sexy, and they cover one forearm and run up to his neck and my panties are wet. So there! Even my thoughts are exhausting. He sighed, as though I was a trial. Whatever big boy, try being on my end of things. He finished showing me around the office, and doling out instructions with his highbrow accent and elocution in total contrast to his bad boy looks. "You got all that?" "Yes, I believe I do." *** The first half of the day was a snap. I uploaded the orders from the sheet he'd given me, placed calls to suppliers as he'd instructed, and fielded calls for new orders. Seems everyone wanted a Colton Lyon original. True to his word he was only in and out sparingly, but each time was worst than the last. Like now, sweat made his T-shirt stick to his body, and he looked a little flushed I guess from the heat in the shop, and the way he was drinking that bottle of water, eeeeeeek. "What is it now?" "Huh, what?" Oh, merciful heavens, please tell me he didn't just catch me ogling his junk, but what did he expect, walking around here in those tight jeans,... that hid nothing. Didn't that hurt, to stuff all that in there? "You've been staring at me with a blush on your face for the last five minutes, Sloane, you got a fever or something?" "Yeah, I've got a fever alright." Of course I mumbled that under my breath. The man was going to be the death of me, no wonder I kept spazzing out. Did he have to wear that cologne? "What was that?" "Nothing, nothing at all, sir, just getting back to work here, lots to do." Please take your package and exit far left, I need a damn cigarette and I don't even smoke. I turned back to the computer screen before he opened his mouth, and he almost gave me heart failure. "Am I fucking you?" Say what now? "Uh...no?" Was my new boss hitting the pipe? "What did I tell you about that sir shit?" Gulp. "Sorry, I'll try to remember." "See that you do." Would you get out of here already before I combust? The big guy upstairs must've been listening, because he made an exit not long after. Jared brought me lunch which I ate at my desk, because I found that the last person had made a mess of the files. Not that anything was missing, it's just that there was no real order to anything. Around two the phone rang, good, break up the monotony. "Lyon's Place, how may I help you?" "Where the fuck is Lyon?" "Excuse me?" "Lyon, the quack that runs that outfit over there, where the hell is he?" "Sir, how may I be of service? Mr. Lyon is rather busy at the momentª" "Listen girlyª" "No, you listen. I don't know who you are, and quite frankly I don't care, but your telephone manner leaves much to be desired." "Now either you speak to me in a civil tone, or I'll be hanging up on the count of five. One, two, three, fourª" "I'm almost there little missy, we'll just see about this." He hung up the phone. Oh shit, my first day and I'm gonna get canned. Who the hell was that? Damn, when will I learn to keep my big mouth shut? Jared was going to be so pissed. Not long after, I heard the same gruff voice outside the door, followed by a few others, namely Colton's. My stomach was in knots, and I had to throw up. "Marcus, what the hell?" "Fight's not with you, Lyon." "You have a beef with any one of my staff, on my property, the fights with me Grimaldi." "I want to talk to little missy with the big mouth." "What's this about, Grimaldi?" "You learn how to build a decent bike yet?" "Listen, we've been going back and forth with this for the last year. If you don't like my work, then there's nothing I can do for you, but you're not going to come here and harass my people." Maybe I should get out there before things get out of hand. Colton was beginning to sound frustrated. I took a deep breath and walked to the door. I had to fortify myself before opening it. I opened the door to Colton, Jared, and a couple of the guys, Tommy and Pete among them. "Hey, you the one I spoke to?" Okay, he did not look anything like his voice sounded, and he was dressed like a refined gentleman while he spoke like a ruffian. What was it with the men in this town not being what they seem? I wasn't quite sure what I'd done to set him off, so I decided to play it safe. "Yes sir, I think I am." He looked me up and down with a sneer. "Well now, you're just a little itty-bitty thing, not much to you at all." Watch it old man with the short jokes. Instead of actually answering his obnoxious observation, I just straightened my shoulders and stood a little taller. "Was there something I could help you with?" "There it is, that same snooty tone she used on the phone, that how you running your business these days, Lyon?" Colton started to answer him, but for some strange reason I felt the need to defend myself, especially since the old reprobate was smirking at me like a three year old tattletale who'd gotten me in trouble.