Bounty

by Aubrey St. Clair

We’re silent during the short ride as thoughts begin to swirl through my head. I did do a cursory read through of the top executives at Piston and I don’t recall a Mr. Redding. Only the top VP levels were listed by name, though. I wonder how far down the corporate ladder this guy is?

  It’s only a short walk across plush carpet and a brightly lit corridor before we reach a big grey door with the name Sebastian Redding over it. No title.

  Catherine knocks, and a muffled male voice calls out from inside immediately. “Come in.”

  “Ready?” Catherine asks. I nod, anxious to meet the man that I’ll hopefully be working for. Maybe they’ll even hire me today, on the spot. That would save me so much stress. I take a deep breath and remind myself of the very successful and positive interview I just had with Catherine. I’ve got this. I just have to impress him and I’m in. Piece of cake.

  Catherine opens the door and steps aside to let me enter.

  It takes every ounce of will I have to contain the shriek of surprise that almost escapes my lips. I know the dark, piercing eyes I’m staring into, only the man they belong to isn’t who I know as Mr. Redding.

  The man in front of me is the one I know as Bash.

  7

  Sebastian

  From the look on her face, I’m not sure who is more surprised, me or Blondie. The only thing that saves us from getting busted is that Catherine is looking at me, not her. But she won’t be for long. I need to get rid of HR before this gets out of control.

  “Mr. Redding, may I introduce Evelyn Silver? She’s a candidate for the EA position we’ve been advertising for, and I think—”

  “Thank you, Catherine, I can take it from here.” I stand up and walk toward the women, keeping a smile on my face even as I dismiss her prematurely. Her smiles falters for a moment, but then she nods and excuses herself. Catherine has been around long enough to know that tact isn’t one of my strong suits, so I know she’ll forgive me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Blondie—or, Evelyn, I suppose—gets the question out as soon as the door closes, and before I have a chance to ask the same thing. At least she had sense enough not to say anything in front of Catherine.

  “I own this company,” I growl, with an edge to my voice that I don’t usually use at the office. It’s not the first time I’ve had to use it today, though. What else can go wrong?

  Evelyn gapes at me. “What?”

  I let out a calming breath, trying to remind myself of where I am. Normally, that’s not a problem. It’s one of many reasons I keep both sides of my life completely separate and insulated from each other. But seeing her here is almost like a trigger, bringing out the Bash in me. “Sit down.”

  I make my way back around my own desk and ease myself heavily into the well-worn leather chair behind it. Evelyn still hasn’t moved from the doorway. “I said sit down.” The edge is creeping back, but it gets her moving at least. Slowly. She’s watching me with every step, like I’m a wild animal that’s gotten past its bars at the zoo. I watch her just as carefully, but not because I’m worried she might attack. More because I’m trying to remember what she looks like without all those clothes. Fuck, this girl is gorgeous.

  Whether as an act of defiance or because she’s still considering whether to run, she only stops at the chair in front of my desk but doesn’t sit. “What do you mean, you own this company? It’s a public company, with Hans Peterson as the CEO. You’re just a…”

  I raise my eyebrow, interested to see how she finishes that sentence. She’s smart enough not to, but she should have been smart enough not to have started it in the first place. She’s got that unexpected edge to her that I saw at the bar on Saturday night. The one I’m pretty sure she keeps caged up most of the time.

  “A thug?” I finish, watching her closely. She blinks and licks her lips, but doesn’t say anything. “A criminal?” Still nothing, but I can tell she’s uncomfortable now, and I have no intention of reassuring her. “You don’t know the half of what I am. But why are you here, Evelyn?” I resist the urge to call her Blondie, intentionally not answering her question as I try her real name out on my tongue for the first time. It fits a corporate setting.

  “I sent my résumé in a week ago. For an EA position. To an executive.” She says that last word like an accusation. As if she’s trying to remind me of her own question, but I’m the one in charge here, and I think she might need to be reminded of that.

  “Did you know that we check references before we even call people for an interview? It saves us time.” I can see in her eyes a spark now. She suspects what might be coming and shifts her weight back and forth between her feet uncomfortably. “Your references were impeccable, of course. It’s rare that a person puts a reference on a résumé that isn’t going to give them a glowing review.” She visibly relaxes, assuming she’s out of the woods. Time to pounce.

  “But there was one reference that was noticeably missing.” Bingo, back stiffens, hands tightening around the back of the chair in front of her. “It’s odd that you would work for someone so high-profile as Edward Stonewall and not use him as a reference. So I called him anyway and wow, he does not like you.”

  Pow. She caves, like I’ve just knocked the wind out of her. I just meant to take her down a peg, pay her back for whatever it was she wanted to call me earlier. Why do I feel so guilty all of a sudden?

  “Relax. Edward is an ass. That’s why you’re here. Him telling me adamantly not to hire you is about as glowing of a recommendation as you can get.”

  “You jerk!”

  “Excuse me?” I lift my eyebrow again and her eyes widen as she remembers where she is and who I am. At least, who I am today.

  “I’m sorry, I just—”

  “Never mind.” I wave my hand dismissively. I’ve made my point; I can’t blame an honest reaction, and since when do I give a shit about insults? I prefer someone that speaks their mind. “Look, everyone has their own side of a story, and we can get to yours. I’m just letting you know that I spoke to him and I know he’s a shit…” A flash from the other night pulls at my brain and everything clicks into place. “He’s the guy from the bar, isn’t he? I thought his snooty voice sounded familiar.”

  Evelyn gusts out a breath and nods. She looks almost ashamed, but she keeps her head up. “Yes. I thought you said you knew him?”

  “I know of him. He has a reputation. But our paths haven’t crossed before.”

  “Well, apparently, no one else sees through him like you do, because he’s done as he promised. You’re the only company that’s called me back.”

  I bark out a laugh, but the look she gives me tells me she doesn’t see the same humor in the situation. “It’s because of his reputation, not necessarily his lies, that they aren’t calling you back. They’re afraid of him. Of what he’ll do to retaliate. That’s the difference. I’m not.”

  “Oh.” Evelyn purses her lips for a moment before squeezing them forward as she thinks. The movement reminds me of what it was like to kiss those lips.

  “So, let me guess: you two were fucking, and you broke up. He probably cheated on you. What happen, you catch him fucking his secretary or something?”

  A darkness passes over her face so quickly I almost look out the window to see if there’s an approaching storm.

  “We weren’t just fucking. We’d been together for months. I had just moved in.” There’s anger in her eyes, but I’m not sure whether it’s directed at me, or him. She pauses for a minute, and then adds, “But the rest is right.”

  “Are you shitting me? He was actually fucking his secretary?”

  “Not his secretary—she worked for the head of sales—but yes.”

  She’s looking down now, likely embarrassed but I can’t help but bark out another laugh. “What a fucking walking cliché that asshole is. What the hell were you doing with a guy like that, anyway?”

  “You mean as opposed to a guy like you?” she shoots back, the fire in her eyes returning as s
he lifts her gaze up to meet mine. I struggle to keep a smile from my face.

  “You have no idea who I am.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re Bash. A leather-wearing, motorcycle thug that apparently has a day job working at an auto parts company.”

  “In this office, you’re to call me Sebastian. Or Mr. Redding. Never Bash.” The tone in my voice makes Evelyn jump, and she closes those beautiful lips down on whatever else she was going to say. I might be pretty laid back about some things, but not that. I’ve spent far too much time and energy keeping my lives separate for her to come in and blow it.

  “Sit down,” I say one more time. This time, she obeys. “Catherine brought you in here, which means you’ve signed the NDA, right?”

  Evelyn simply nods, and I wonder if I’ve scared her into silence. That gives me some hope, since what I need from her most is her silence. About a lot of things. But she’s here now, however complicated that is, and she already knows about the MC. There’s no point in holding back the rest. She’s professional enough to respect an NDA. I need an assistant, and she’s qualified. All I can do is continue on with what I had planned and figure the rest of this shit out later. I can’t waste all day on this. I still have to deal with the shit-storm that the stolen truck has caused.

  “Fine. Then, to answer your earlier question… When I said I own the company, what I mean is that I’m the majority shareholder at Piston. But more than that, I’m the founder of this company.”

  Evelyn’s face isn’t made any less beautiful when it’s painted over with confusion, and my mind drifts back one more time to the other night and kissing those lips. I haven’t stopped thinking about those lips in the last couple of days, or any other part of Evelyn. More than I should have. I never thought I’d see her again. Certainly not here.

  She has no idea what sort of a bind she’s put me in by walking through my door.

  8

  Evelyn

  “How… how is that even… possible?” I bite my tongue again before I add, You’re a fucking criminal! I’ve already spoken more candidly during this interview than is proper, and although there’s no way I plan on working here, and Bash doesn’t seem to mind, that doesn’t mean I have to continue to act unprofessionally. That’s not me, that’s him, and I won’t stoop to his level.

  Bash’s dark eyes bore into me, just as they did on Saturday night. I can feel him probing and pushing, but I have no idea what he’s searching for. It was his eyes that I recognized right away. As soon as the door opened. It’s just the rest of him that doesn’t look familiar.

  If I passed him on the street looking like he does now, but he was wearing dark glasses, I would have just walked on by. Well, I probably would have sneaked a peek at his ass or something, but that’s it. I’m not blind, after all, and even the sport jacket and tie combo he’s wearing can’t hide how well-built he is. But I never would have known that this man had his cock buried to the hilt inside of me just two nights ago.

  Gone is the razor-sharp stubble that covered his jaw. Gone is the leather, the jeans, the messy hair. The tattoos are all covered. He looks the part of a true corporate exec. Where the hell is Bash?

  Oh. Right. Bash is gone. This is Sebastian. Whatever. Split personality much?

  He finally nods, as if answering a question to himself with something he finally found in my eyes. “I didn’t start off wanting… this.” He motions around himself. “I still don’t. But it is what it is. Shit happens.”

  Shit happens? He’s explaining away founding a billion-dollar company that he doesn’t really want with shit happens?

  “I assume you’re going to elaborate?” I prod. I may not really be interested in working here, for him, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious now.

  Sebastian lets out a heavy breath and lays one of his big hands down onto the wooden tabletop of his desk. There are papers everywhere, and more than one coffee cup, but he seems to find the one spot where he won’t knock anything over.

  “The reason you had to sign an NDA, why anyone that is going to work with me has to sign one, is that the fact that I run this company is a secret. One that I intend to keep. I let Hans run the day-to-day, but every major decision goes through me first. He’s the public figurehead, but I call the shots.”

  “Why?” After spending so much time with Edward, the entire notion of someone running a company and not wanting all of the glory is completely foreign to me. I can’t imagine a scenario where Edward would want someone else taking the credit for anything he did.

  Sebastian stands up and stands next to the huge floor to ceiling window behind his desk. He’s looking out and quiet for a moment. When he starts to talk again, his deep voice almost startles me.

  “You can’t even see the bar from here,” he says. “We’re on the complete opposite end of the city. I picked this location specifically for that reason. So that the two parts of my life would have the least chance of meeting. And now you appear.” He turns and shoots an accusatory glare at me.

  “Excuse me?” I think back to what he’d just said, trying to replay it to find something I missed, but then he just shakes his head and turns back to the window.

  “Never mind. I know I have a few things to explain. Things I wasn’t planning on getting into today. Or ever, really. But here we are. Understand that I’m forced to tell you things here that I’ve never told anyone, which means I have to trust you. I know you’ve signed the NDA, but this goes deeper than that. The NDA means I can come after you financially. But if you break my trust in what I’m about to tell you, your finances will be the least of your concern.”

  The edge in his voice is back, the one he used when I first arrived, and my heart begins to pound just as hard as when he used it that first time. I don’t want him to think he can intimidate me, but at the same time, I can tell he’s serious, so I just nod.

  “This whole thing started about ten years ago in my garage. At the time I was a biker only, and part of the same club that I’m in now, although at that time, just a new recruit. We didn’t have a lot of money, as we were fairly new on the scene, but I’d been around bikes my whole life and had been fixing them for years on my own. I started to just fix them for the crew, eventually needing to make a few parts that I didn’t have access to. Things just grew from there, and eventually I was machining more and more parts for a greater variety of people.” He’s gazing out the window as he speaks, not paying attention to me. That allows me to watch his face. His jawline is strong, but tight, like he’s stressed. Even the hand that was resting on the table earlier is clenching down now.

  “I kept it secret from the club, how big things started to get. I didn’t want them to think I had sold out and gone corporate. But they began to notice that I was spending less time with them. Eventually, I realized that in order to be a part of both the club and the business, I would need outside help. Not only that, but honestly, I was in over my head.” He snorts a little, bullishly. “I wasn’t cut out for all this,” he mutters, gesturing to the office and its accoutrements, and even his magnificent view. “I was just a guy with a big idea. A grease monkey, at heart. I didn’t know the first thing about being a CEO, and honestly? I didn’t want to.”

  Bash—or, rather, Sebastian—wets his lips. The way his tongue darts over them, just the tip, brings a thrill to my core I’d rather not admit to. It’s all I can do not to squirm, but like a bloodhound scenting its prey, somehow Sebastian seems to know. His gaze flicks to mine briefly before dipping to my skirt as I uncross, and then recross, my legs beneath it. The corner of his lips quirk, I think, though it could be my imagination. Either way, my cheeks flush.

  “You should know, Evelyn, based on how we met the other night, that I’m not exactly cut out for corporate niceties. The social order of running a business. The pussy-footing, the brownnosing. All that shit.”

  I’ve heard far worse words than “shit” exit Sebastian’s mouth in the short time I’ve known him, but here, in his office, the curse ricoc
hets like a gunshot. My blush deepens, not because I’m some kind of goody two-shoes—I think our time in his MC’s back room proved that—but because I can’t get a fucking read on him, no matter how hard I try. He keeps trying to convince me that Sebastian and Bash are two separate entities, at least here, in his ivory—or, rather, chrome—tower, but it seems like the snarling biker just can’t be contained. I’ve caught a glimpse of him more than once since I arrived here, and it’s throwing me off something fierce.

  Pull yourself together, Evelyn, I chide myself, although it does no good. My thoughts keep drifting to the way Bash took control of me, and the small, fingertip-shaped bruises on my hips throb in reply. Great. Like I need another reminder, or another distraction from the story he’s trying to tell.

  Sebastian lets out a little breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. It’s a sound I’ve heard before, an intimate one, and as soon as I hear it, the poppy-red tinge to my skin spreads to my throat, swathing me in a prickling heat that makes it hard to breathe. I swallow thickly and wonder, does he have me all figured out? Can he see the battle I’m waging inside? And goddamn him—why isn’t he struggling the same way I am? What was it with these types of men? Not that Edward and Sebastian are anywhere near being in the same league, but it does occur to me that they’re both powerful, in their own ways. I could be developing a type—an emotionally unavailable one that could ruin my career just as easily as it could ruin my dating life.

  You aren’t dating him, I remind myself. And you don’t want to. That last part sounds more like a question than a statement, even in my own head.

  “By this time, I had employees,” Sebastian continued, pulling uncomfortably on his tie, as if to emphasize his frustration with the noose that running a legitimate business had become for him, “but I needed someone to run the day-to-day. That’s when I hired Hans, the current CEO. I let him take over the public side of running it, but had lawyers draw up complicated legal papers that ensured that I would always be the real head of the company and all major decisions had to pass by me. Although for the most part, I just defer to Hans. He knows far better than I do how to run this place. In the end, all the legal shit just means that I’d continue to own a majority stake, but one obscured through untraceable holding companies.”