“I said we’re getting by,” she replied curtly. “Foxtail Farms won’t sell out. I won’t sell out.”
Trisha’s eyes flared up with rage. Dante could tell the woman had begun to see him as a vulture about to feast on her farm. He had to keep her interested. “I’m not asking for farm or the land that it is on. I’m only interested in you and your time. Would you be willing to work directly for me?”
The farm girl was flabbergasted. “Work for you? For how much?”
“How about a million dollars a month?” he said with a smirk. Dante was all too pleased with Trisha’s stunned reaction. “Of course, I’m up for negotiations.”
The club president would have laughed if the woman didn’t play a crucial part in his company’s future. He needed a woman to be the image of his company’s future. He needed Trisha Kaplan.
Finally, the farm girl found her words. “You’re willing to pay me a million dollars?”
“Yes, our company has reached a significant hurdle… and I believe you are the right woman for the job,” Dante replied, trying to find the right words. “And we’ll compensate you handsomely for it.”
“What is the job about it?” she probed. “You’re technically a car company, right? You need someone to help design a tractor for your new agricultural vehicles section? There are far better qualified people than me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t go into detail about the position due to the sensitive nature of it,” Dante continued. “We’ll require you to agree to a non-disclosure agreement if we are to go through this offer.”
“It’s all confusing but you’re willing to pay a million dollars for a year to work for your company?”
“For each month,” Dante corrected. The Black Hounds had built up a tidy war chest over the years. Twelve million dollars would be a drop in the bucket, especially if the stunt would help their IPO. “I’ll need you to agree to a six month agreement that can be extended to a full year. We’ll provide additional benefits so you won’t have to pay a cent while working for us. Hell, we’ll even direct some of our business partners to your farm.”
Trisha looked to be trapped in a daze. “This is overwhelming, Dante…”
“Trisha, this offer won’t just help you,” the biker continued. “It’ll help your farm. You can pay off all of your debts. You can expand and buy more acres of land. You can even buy out all the other farms.”
The farm girl stopped to digest the offer from the city boy. Dante knew he must have looked like a wish granting genie to her. He was offering enough money for her to shift several tax brackets and never have to do a day’s work ever again.
Strangely enough, it was pocket change for the biker. He spent just as much money on fast motorcycles and cars. Dante chalked it up as a business expense. Just because he needed to scope out the competitions’ vehicles didn’t mean he couldn’t go for a few joyrides. The Black Hound motorcycle company made hundreds of millions each year in profit. Soon, they would be making billions.
And it was poised to make much more once they went public.
“I take it you’re interested?” he asked rhetorically. “We would like to keep this moving quickly. Could you spare a day and meet with us tomorrow? The sooner you start working, the sooner you’ll get paid for your time.”
“S-sure I can do that,” she stuttered. “Just give the address of where I need to go. I can drive my pickup truck to-“
“No need for that,” Dante interrupted, picking up his empty plate and placing it in the sink. “I can arrange transportation for you. Just be ready tomorrow at around the same time as now. We can discuss the specifics of the deal once you arrive. I should be heading home by now if I want to beat the highway traffic.”
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Trisha replied. “I’ll walk you out.”
Dante followed her to the entrance. “Trisha, it was a pleasure having dinner with you. I hope this is the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship between us”
The woman leaned against the wall in disbelief. “You’re talking as if I’ve already accepted the deal.”
“I can’t blame a fox for being cautious around the hounds,” Dante replied with a boyish grin. “Just hear our case before you make your decision. Goodnight, Trisha.”
A few seconds later, Trisha heard the roar of a motorcycle. It soon disappeared into the distance. And just like that, Dante Alastair was gone.
Trisha Kaplan was troubled as she tossed and turned in her bed. For months, she felt like she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Now, she felt like she was at the tail end of a fleeting dream.
A handsome biker had arrived at her doorstep and offered her millions. The money would solve all of her problems. All of her debts would be gone along with her worries. She wouldn’t have to act so cheap like stretching out a tube of toothpaste over a whole month. Trisha hated fighting for that last piece that would get stuck behind the nozzle.
The offer seemed too good to be true. Even during the good years, the farm didn’t make as much as twelve million dollars in a year. Dante’s produce order alone would keep the farm going on for a few more months.
Trisha wondered what the man had planned for her. The money didn’t sound like something that could be earned through honest, hard work. More importantly, it was coming from a source with a less than sterling reputation.
Trisha had read that about the Black Hound motorcycle club’s troubled past. They had originated as a vigilante group meant to protect their hometown. The locals were under threat from gangs and the police wouldn’t step in.
However, vigilantism often meant weapons trafficking and armed robbery. The club had a violent reputation for engaging in shootouts with their rivals. Their former sergeant at arms, Cassius Alastair, had even been arrested for robbing a shipment from a rival gang. This led to his arrest and the FBI getting involved in on the ongoing investigation. From then on, the motorcycle club was on the straight and narrow.
Allegedly, the Black Hounds had transformed themselves from an outlaw club into a legitimate business. However, many doubted their sincerity, including Trisha. No legitimate business would give a small time farm owner that much money unless they were expecting something in return. They wanted something from her or her farm.
Trisha wondered if they were involved in the drug trade. Perhaps they wanted her farm to grow illegal drugs. They could use her failing farm as a new site to cultivate new strains of drugs.
Well, the joke would be on them. A local sheriff’s office was a ten minute walk from her farm. Besides, most drugs had a hard time being cultivated north of the equator. For that much money, it would be easier to buy their own land.
She didn’t know what the catch was to this deal. Perhaps they wanted to help them in an armed robbery. The Black Hounds were notorious for their elaborate and often successful robberies and hijackings of vehicles. Perhaps the whole motorcycle manufacturing business was a cover for their less than legal activities.
However, the company was making record profits. While the motorcycle company wasn’t publically traded yet, there had been leaks about their internal financial statements. Their business valuation had practically doubled overnight from that leak. They would make more money manufacturing vehicles than they would from stealing them. It would seem stupid to risk all of that to rob an armored car from a bank.
The amount of money they promised her was ludicrous. She didn’t know what she would do with the money she would have after paying off her debts. Her workers could paid a better wage. She could buy more land and build more farms. Trisha could make the Foxtail Farms even more successful than it had ever been.
She knew that she would listen to whatever Dante Alastair had to offer. The man was interested in her for some reason. Trisha didn’t know whether she would accept or not. She just wanted a way to help her business without betraying the principles thought to her by her parents.
Hopefully, he would keep buying produce from Foxtail Farms regardless of her decision.
“Are you sure we need her?” Lucia asked rhetorically, looking outside the window of their motorcycle club. Trisha Kaplan was due to arrive here at any moment. This was assuming she agreed to meet with them. “I like desperate. I don’t like smart enough to poke holes through your ruse. We need someone we can control.”
Uncle Cass chipped in. “Dumb and docile would be preferable. Think she’ll play hardball with us and hold out for more money?”
Lucia flipped through a stack of papers. “No, the farm probably has a couple of months left. Stiff competition and an untimely water conservation act have cost her a lot of business. The land that it’s on is worth more than the farm itself at this point. There’s just too much debt and insolvency for a rival farm to swoop in and chisel off the name in favor of their own.”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even know who she was a day ago and now you’ve already snooped through her finances?”
“I looked at publicly available and legally acceptable documents,” she corrected. “We could pay off her debt to what is a few pennies to us. We could also continue to be a patron to her farm. It could buy us her continued loyalty and silence once this whole ordeal is over. However, I don’t like the part where she started to piece together what you had in plan for her.”
“You sure you don’t want a woman who is more home on a bike than a tractor?” Uncle Cass asked. “You’re trying to sell motorcycles, right? Why not get a grease monkey with a uterus from a local repair shop?”
“You guys are missing the forest for the trees,” Dante said in exasperation. “We’re trying to sell an image. We don’t need a biker chick or a woman who is handy with a torque wrench. We need Trisha because she’s everything we’re not. She’s a hardworking farm girl that has a good reputation with the locals. More importantly, she has a clean image we could use at this point.”
“She does have a clean record,” Lucia added, flipping through another page. “No run-ins with the law. She doesn’t even have any speeding tickets on her record. Then again, her car has spent more time in the shop than on the road.”
“Seriously, are you going to dig up her dental records when she was five years old?”
“If it ensures the future of the company, then I will,” Lucia said coolly. “I’ll admit, she could be what we need. She is young, has a good reputation, and needs money. However, I’m just not comfortable having someone we know so little about in this less than honest scheme. It could easily turn into a PR nightmare if she goes off the record. We’ve already had enough of those.”
Dante looked out at the window and narrowed his eyes. “Well, you’ll have plenty to talk to her about. Trisha has just arrived.”
“Why’d you hire a fancy limo service for her?” Uncle Cass growled. “You could’ve save yourself a few bucks and get one of the boys down at the garage to give her a ride.”
Lucia sighed. “I’m not sure she’ll be up for the full Black Hound Motorcycle Club experience, especially when it involves racing at a hundred miles per hour through highways.”
Dante playfully nudged his sister in the shoulder. “I knew a girl who used to be a speed junkie before she became a CFO. Come on, let’s get ready.”
The woman of the hour came out from the limo they had hired. It must have been quite a sight for the luxury vehicle to pull up in front of her ramshackle farm. She looked uncomfortable with the finery that came with a high class limo service, such as a fully stoked cooler and satellite television. The valet escorted her to the entrance of their motorcycle club.
Trisha wore a clean business casual look with a shirt, slacks, and an office jacket. Dante couldn’t help but miss her tousled farm girl look. It looked like she was putting up an act rather being truthful about herself. Then again, that was what they planned on hiring her for.
Hiding the documents about Trisha, Lucia changed her line of questioning. “Aren’t you a little spooked, Dante?”
“What do you mean?”
“You go for a joyride,” she began. “And you end up with on her farm. She seems like a good fit for the plan. Her mother knew our mother. It’s even the same place that made those damn addictive grapefruit candies we ate as kids. It just feels… odd for everything to come together.”
“I never took you for the superstitious type, Lucia.”
She shrugged. “I’m never comfortable when things go to plan. I’ll come up with a backup in case this meeting goes south.”
“Have a little faith.”
“You kids can handle this,” Uncle Cass said, stretching his arms. “I’m going to shoot a few rounds of pool downstairs.”
“Don’t you want to question her, Uncle Cass?” Lucia asked. “She’s the one who will serve as the distraction for your release from prison.”
The man walked towards their game room. “I think she’ll be a lot more at home without a convicted felon around. Besides, you’re club president now. It’s time for you to run the show.”
Dante nodded and straightened up his shoulders. “Okay, Lucia. Let’s head to darts room.”
“Conference room,” she corrected, picking up only a small binder from the table. “This is a legitimate business now. I’ll make it legitimate even if I have to do it room by room.”
The two arrived at the conference room. Trisha sat before a small wooden desk. The Black Hounds motorcycle club wasn’t especially fancy but the woman seemed to appreciate its mix of both rustic and luxurious furnishings.
Lucia closed the door as Dante took a seat before Trisha. The woman still had some dirt caked between her fingers. The biker wondered if the woman had done some last minute work before being hauled off to their doorstep.
“Thank you for being here, Trisha,” Dante began. “We really appreciate you taking time away from your business to talk to us.”
The woman seemed somewhat distracted. He couldn’t blame her for being suspicious of their motives. However, she was transfixed to the bookcase he kept next to the dart board. It held all the business and political books Dante was studying. If he wanted to be a strong leader, then he had to learn from the greats.
The club itself was a new chapter after Dante and Lucia had left their hometown. His sister had argued that the old club house had too much baggage attached to it. They settled on relocating to the city in order to grow their then fledgling motorcycle manufacturing business. The move allowed them to foster better business relationships. The new club house now served as a temporary business headquarters while they constructed their new offices.
Trisha snapped her gaze back to the biker as if caught red-handed in a crime. “Yes… nice to meet you… again, Mr. Alastair- I mean Dante.”
Lucia smiled at her introduction before placing a pen and a piece of paper before her. “My name is Lucia. I am the CFO of the Black Hound Motorcycle Company.”
“Nice to meet you,” Trisha replied, offering a handshake. It was not accepted and she awkwardly brought her hand down. “You must be Dante’s sister.”
Dante didn’t like how Lucia was cold to Trisha but the woman knew how to protect themselves legally. Lucia pointed to the piece of paper. “Getting down to business, we had our legal team write down an agreement which will prevent you from discussing the details of this offer with anyone who we do not approve off. It’s not the offer itself but a way to protect both of us if you wish to continue. Due to the importance of this offer, we can’t proceed until you sign this. Please read it carefully before you sign.”
Dante watched as Trisha nervously picked up the thick, elaborate looking fountain pen. She seemed unused to fountain pens due to a lifet
ime of using plastic office pens. Or the weight of her actions was getting to her. The Black Hounds could go on if she refused. On the other hand, this signature could decide the fate of her business.
TRACKING TRISHA - A Black Hounds Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fox and the Hounds Book #1) Page 3
