Bikers and Pearls

by Vicki Wilkerson

  “Parle vous Francis?” Bull asked Jenna as he ran his fingers across the top of April’s hand.

  “Oui. Un pee-teet,” Jenna said.

  Petit had to have been her favorite word in the whole French language. She abused it all the time.

  Bull began conversing with Jenna in the romantic language, to April’s amazement, and Jenna answered back in the best amateur French she could muster.

  April’s friend was all giggles and smiles. Bull had won her over. For April.

  “Where’d you learn to speak so fluently?” April asked Bull.

  “In college. And afterward, when I toured France on my bike,” he said.

  Well, well, well. College educated and world traveled. This man surprised her at every turn. She could tell that Jenna was as impressed as she was.

  “If it’s not Mr. Clayton,” said a handsomely groomed man who walked up behind Bull. He had very dark hair with a few pieces of deep auburn sprinkled through his short, neatly trimmed sideburns. “Fancy meeting you here. And who are these lovely ladies you’re escorting?”

  Bull introduced them to his friend, Hogan Thorpe, who had on a red power tie over his white collared shirt.

  Jenna’s face brightened even more, if that were possible. “Did anyone or anything special bring you here tonight?” she asked.

  “I donated some items from my business,” Hogan said. “And what about you, pretty lady?”

  April knew Jenna’s wheels were turning. Businessmen—successful ones—always impressed Jenna.

  “I’m here to support Ben…and be with my friend,” Jenna said. She flipped her short, stylish, blond hair with her hand. “And to donate something from the dress shop where I model.”

  Oh, boy. Jenna was laying on the Southern charm as thick as honeysuckle on a garden fence.

  The two talked like they had been friends for years. Jenna intermittently glanced at April and smiled. Jenna flipped her hair again, bit her bottom lip, and closed and opened her eyes slowly. April knew when Jenna started the eye thing, she was in hyper-flirt mode. She absolutely loved the attention she was getting from the man.

  But it was nothing compared to the stares and attention coming to April from Bull.

  “Would you like to sit?” he asked. “Are you warm enough? Would you like more punch? Are you hungry?”

  He surveyed the room. He probably suspected some of these people knew about his past with the Rebels. In Bull’s presence, somehow the appeal of the country club crowd and her desire to join the Ladies League faded. Jenna would always be her best friend—even if they never worked on one single cookbook committee together.

  “I’m fine,” she said and shivered a bit. Physically she was. There had been no overt confrontation with anyone about Bull being there. Not that she’d expected any from the men wearing Brooks Brothers suits. Or the women wearing colorful designer dresses. With their faux politeness. Yeah, she’d seen the averted glances. Yeah. They knew about his past all right. And, yeah, they were simply going to have to deal with it all tonight.

  Still, she wouldn’t trade places with any other woman in the room. Bull was enchanting, and she gave herself permission to be enchanted—at least while they were working together. They were here to do a job—for Ben. That was enough. Her ultimate justification.

  Jenna continued to make a fool of herself with her incessant giggling and continual use of the word petit any time she could slip it into the conversation.

  Looking down at his empty cup, Hogan asked, “Anyone else interested in more punch?”

  “Un pee-teet.” Jenna formed a small visual aid with her thumb and index finger.

  Everyone in the little group chimed in.

  Bull said, “I’ll help.”

  That was when Hogan turned around and Jenna nearly fainted.

  Hogan had a mullet. Yep. A bona fide mullet—the proverbial business in the front and party in the back.

  His hair was short and groomed around his face, but falling from his neck was a mane of nearly black hair, almost the same color as his suit—obviously the reason they hadn’t noticed it before. That and because he hadn’t left Jenna’s side since he’d arrived.

  The men were a few paces away when Jenna gasped. “April, didn’t those things disappear twenty years ago? He was so handsome that I flirted with him. I even asked him to sit with us. What am I going to do?”

  April needed to be asking herself that same question about Bull. “I can’t help you out there. I’ve got my own troubles.” Delicious ones, but troubles nonetheless.

  Jenna looked around the room.

  “Don’t even think about leaving. Not before they announce the winner of the jacket. Bull and I will leave then, too,” April said. “And I’m sure Hogan doesn’t belong to any gangs or anything. You heard him. He’s a businessman in town.”

  “You don’t know anything about him, either. Who are you these days?” Jenna asked.

  April sighed. “Please. It won’t be long. You don’t have to marry the guy. Just talk to him for a few more minutes.”

  “April!” Jenna’s look was stern, but she couldn’t finish her reprimand because the two men walked back up with drinks in their hands.

  A noise squelched over the PA system. The announcer’s voice was loud—too loud for comfort. He stood on a platform with two rather large objects flanking either side. “We have a couple of big prizes to give away tonight before we announce the winners of the silent auction. The first is a jet ski and vest donated by Hammond’s Marine.”

  April strained to see through the crowd.

  Everyone clapped. The flirtatious hostess from the front door pulled a name out of a box and the master of ceremonies announced it.

  Everyone looked around. April heard sporadic applause around the room. “Physical presence is not required to win,” the man said. “We’ll make a simple call.”

  A man from the back of the room called out. “Mr. Jordan is here. He stepped outside for a moment. I’ll get him.”

  “Okay, we’ll get back to Mr. Jordan later,” the master of ceremonies continued. “Now for the Harley-Davidson Softail donated by Hogan Thorpe—I mean Hog Thorpe, owner of Thorpe’s Custom Cycles. And a leather jacket donated by Scooter’s Outfitters.”

  Jenna shot April a look and touched her arm.

  The crowd parted slightly and April could see the large object beside the announcer. It was a red monster motorcycle with shining chrome. Plates of Harley insignia were fastened all over the glistening metal. She turned and also noticed how some of the attendees sort of giggled and looked at one another. She might have been afraid of the things, but she’d never mock them. Or anything else that involved the bikers. She frowned.

  She surveyed Bull and Hogan. Hog. Bull and Hog. They were nice guys and didn’t deserve to be looked down upon by anyone.

  The hostess once again reached for a name. “April Church,” the announcer said in a voice so loud that people in the parking lot had to have heard it.

  April’s vision grew dark and narrowed to a single spot of light. She couldn’t have heard what she knew she had just heard. She had won a Harley. Everyone knew it. Most of the people in the room had at least heard of what happened with her family and Rebel Angels. News of the accident and fire had been in the papers often enough. And here she was. The center of attention again. With another motorcycle, no less.

  Jenna covered her mouth. She turned to April and touched her arm. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  April looked to Bull, but she couldn’t say a word.

  “Let’s get you a seat,” he said. “Watch her for a second,” he said to Hogan.

  Her feet were glued to the floor. Frozen. Solid. Immovable.

  Well, the Oak Room finally had the center decoration it had needed. April Church. “Congratulations,” Hogan said, and hugged her like he’d known her since elementary school.

  She had just won a Harley.

  Oh, no. She had just won a Harley.

  The noise in
the room grew deafening. April couldn’t tell if the sounds were clapping or laughing or jeering. Something she couldn’t control was happening to her. A pain shot through her head. She needed to get out of there—fast.

  But before she could collect her thoughts, the hostess had come down from the platform, grabbed April’s arm, and lead her to the front of the room. “They want to get some pictures.”

  April was speechless, dumbfounded. Where was Jenna? Where was Bull? Where was the air that was supposed to be filling her lungs?

  On the platform, the hostess pushed April’s left arm into the sleeve of the Harley jacket, and then she shoved the other one in and pulled the coat over her champagne-colored, very French lace dress.

  April felt like a puppet as the woman led her to stand beside the bike. Flashes of light shocked April’s eyes as the photographer took picture after picture. The bursts were as bright as the ones that nearly blinded her the night of the accident. And then more twinkles exploded behind her emerging headache.

  The deafening roar of the crowd filled the room. April’s chest tightened. She couldn’t breathe.

  …

  When Bull returned with a chair, April was gone. She was on the stage, frozen with some fake auto-smile she’d probably learned as a child. He couldn’t stand watching April’s paralyzed expression a minute longer. He’d seen enough of her fear at that steakhouse that first night. He didn’t understand it, but fear was fear. Irrational or not. With one long stride, he was on the platform, shielding her from the flashes of the cameras, taking her arm and hauling her out of the building through the French doors behind them. He knew how hard standing there must have been for her. He could see it in the deer-in-headlights look that was still fixed upon her face.

  Continuing to lead her around the building, he glanced down and saw that she was hyperventilating. He stood in front of her.

  “I…” she squeaked “Can’t. Breathe.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “I’m not upset,” she said, jerking as she inhaled raggedly.

  Sure she wasn’t. And she wasn’t the most beautiful woman at the auction, either.

  If he’d known how hard this was, he wouldn’t have invited her. No matter what, he had wanted to see her. He had wanted to be near her. He definitely didn’t understand her fear or whatever it was that was eating at her.

  What was it? Why? It had to be something more than what he knew.

  She was trembling.

  He wrapped his arms around her and said, “Shhhh. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure it is. You’re going to be fine.”

  Finally, he felt her take a breath that could fill a pair of lungs. That would help. The trembling nearly stopped. He put his finger under her chin and lifted it toward his face. Her brown eyes were laced with tears.

  She was amazingly gorgeous. He brushed back the dark blond hair from her shoulder and without thinking it through, he bent down and kissed her. Lightly this time, like she was fragile.

  Had he gone insane? Bull pulled away from her and said, “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to upset you any more than I have already.”

  She buried her head into his chest and sobbed.

  He picked up his keys from the valet at the front of the haughty building.

  “I’m taking you home,” he said. He grabbed April’s delicate hand and led her to his SUV. Before she got in, he tugged at the jacket she was wearing until it was off, and he threw it on the backseat. She didn’t need another reminder of her nightmarish evening with him.

  As he drove, he glanced at the vision in the seat beside him when he could. How did things get so messed up? Why hadn’t he cared before about how his behavior affected others? Of course, he’d never hurt anyone. Not on purpose.

  But purposely or not, he’d hurt April. With his hair. With his clothes. With his attitude. He gritted his teeth.

  She wiped at her face as she stared out his window.

  They arrived at her place without a word being exchanged the entire way.

  He opened the door on her side of the vehicle and helped her out.

  They stood in front of the door of the condo building. The light of the lantern on the facade of the old building cast a gentle glow all about her. Even through all she had endured tonight, she was still the most captivating woman he had ever seen. The sight of her was almost hypnotic.

  As she unlocked the front door and took a step inside, he said, “Wait.”

  Dropping her head again, she turned.

  How was he going to say this?

  “I don’t want you to be worried anymore. I’m going to take care of the Harley. After I find a buyer for it, I’ll give you the money and you can do what you want with it.”

  She looked up and past him.

  Something caught in Bull’s throat. “I’ve got to be honest with you. I started out with the wrong intentions. I thought you were being…shallow. I guess I didn’t really understand.”

  Still she didn’t say a word.

  “And then I saw something in you, and I wanted to spend time with you.” He paused and looked at the old moss-covered bricks in the walk. “I simply wanted to help you. Instead, I’ve done the opposite.”

  He waited for her to respond. All she could do was look at him through liquid eyes.

  “I know our backgrounds don’t exactly align. That I’ve got stuff in my past. I’ve worked on all that, and I’ve made apologies where I could. If that’s what’s still bothering you, then I don’t know where that leaves us. Or the rally.” He wanted to work with April on the rally. Badly. Though more than that, he wanted to see if there could be something more. For himself.

  Tears leaked down her face.

  Yeah, he was good at fixing things, but he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to fix this.

  …

  A shiver went through April as she stood in her doorway on that cool March night. The evening had been a roller-coaster ride of strange emotions. Bull’s suave appearance had jerked her to the left; his flattery of her had snatched her to the right; her feeling truly beautiful for the first time in her life had taken her to the top, but having all that attention on her with that motorcycle had plummeted her to the bottom. She’d arranged things to distance herself from motorcycles and carelessness and tragedy. Her career. Her friends. All safe choices. Nothing controversial.

  Funny thing, though. She didn’t know if she was ready to get off the ride that Bull had her on just yet, even though she had never truly liked roller coasters.

  Bull bent down and gave her a brotherly peck on the cheek—nothing like the generously sweet one he had given to her in the parking lot of Marvin’s—the one that nearly made her topple over—the one that tunneled to her core and warmed something deep inside her. “Good-bye,” he said.

  It sounded so final. “Wait a minute,” she said as she reached out to grab his arm. “I’ve made some promises about this rally, so I’m going to finish what I started.”

  “Are you really?” he asked. His question was loaded.

  Though everything inside her wanted to throw her arms around him and see where it all led, she knew that in the end they could not be together. She’d lose herself and the safe life she’d created. He’d probably pull her away from all that was familiar and into his world. Then there were her parents. No. This was leading nowhere.

  “I’m not making any promises beyond the rally. I’m sorry,” she said.

  He stepped outside, looked back, and said, “I see.”

  Now she had joined Bull and Hog with her own animal nickname. Hers was “chicken.”

  And like the scared chicken she was, she closed the door.

  Chapter Nine

  April spent the rest of the weekend recuperating from her ordeal at the country club and trying to figure things out—every one of her crazy, incongruous emotions. Most of all, though, she thought of Bull. How he looked when he picked her up for their evening. How he gazed at her and made her insides tickle. How he’d rescue
d her from her paralysis in front of the country club crowd.

  Though she hadn’t planned to, she drove to see her parents.

  “Hey, sweetie,” her mom said. “This is a surprise. I thought you said—”

  “I needed to get out of town,” she said and hugged her mom.

  “Let’s go sit in the garden,” her mom said and headed to the back door in the kitchen. “Darrell, look who’s here.”

  “Well, honey…” He tried to stand, but his cane was on the other side of the breakfast room table. Her mom handed it to him, but he struggled with it. “Thanks, Shirley.”

  “Don’t bother standing, Dad,” she said and bent down to hug him. “Mom and I are going to sit in the garden for a while. You want to join us?”

  “No, honey. I’m still feeling kind of tired. Don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Well, you stay inside. In the cool,” April said.

  He nodded and April and her mother headed out.

  “What’s wrong, sweetie?” her mother asked after they’d settled into the wrought iron chairs.

  She shook her head. “You know, Mom, I’ve tried to do everything in my power to be strong. Independent. Not let the past affect who I am now.”

  “I know, sweetie,” her mom said. “Otherwise, you would have left Summerbrook, too.”

  “I don’t want to be known by what happened. It colors the way people deal with me. Like, they feel sorry for me.” She shook her head. “I met some new people who are working with me on a fundraiser for Ben, but they don’t know what happened, and it’s me who’s screwing things up.”

  She pulled in a long breath and exhaled. “I feel like a lot of that is my fault. And Mimi’s. We’ve always overprotected you. You were our only child, and we could have lost you in that accident. You won’t understand until you have a child of your own.”

  “Well, if I keep being afraid of everything, that’ll never happen,” April said.

  “Oh, it’ll happen one day, sweetie. When things are right. You’ll know,” her mom said.