by Hazel Parker
Richard gave a hint of a smile.
“I knew this was a good idea,” he said. “Your pretty lady over there has some brains in her skull, huh?”
Stay calm. He’s trying to get you off a bit by flirting with her.
“A little,” I said, doing enough to acknowledge it without letting the conversation feel out of control. “Now, with that said, we recognize that you deserve some compensation. However, we think that fifty percent is a little extreme. We applaud what you have done in Las Vegas with The Red Door, but we are nowhere close to that. We are more akin to the repair shop in Green Hills. Actually, we’re not just akin; we’re exactly like it. The point is, we’ve barely been open a few months, and we’re barely breaking even, so taking half of our profits would kill us.”
“Hmm,” Richard said.
He didn’t say anything. He was waiting for me to continue. I was waiting to see how Richard would respond to this moment, but he was doing an unfortunately pretty good job of not revealing how he truly felt.
“I can remember when Mama and I built up The Red Door,” he said. “You know, we could give you folks an idea of how to generate more money. We wouldn’t just want fifty percent of your profits and to then walk out the door. Fifty percent of a hundred bucks is a lot less than fifty percent of a thousand bucks.”
“Yes, exactly, but fifty percent of a hundred bucks is also a lot less than twenty percent of a thousand bucks,” I said. “We need to grow, but we’re never going to do it if we cannot reinvest our profits back into our business.”
Richard leaned back and nodded his head slowly, giving the appearance of having not considered that point from before. I tried not to react in an excited manner, knowing that revealing an emotion like that would harm our chances of getting more. Still, it was a great start.
“Let’s talk about the things that are not financial,” I said. “We offer presence of mind on the East Coast. You have come to dominate out west with Las Vegas and Southern California. We—”
“We didn’t exactly set out to expand,” Richard said. “When the two of us came together, expanding into new cities was not our goal.”
“Sure, that’s fair,” I said. “But if someone comes to you and promises you an investment opportunity worth millions of dollars, but you had never looked into breaking into that field before, do you ignore it because it’s something that you didn’t look into before?”
Richard laughed.
“OK, I’ve been with you up to this point, but if you’re going to tell me that you’ll be worth millions of dollars—”
“No, no, no, no. I’m not referring to us. I’m referring to the idea of expanding into other cities.”
Richard folded his hands and listened.
“I’m referring to the idea of using us as the model for expansion,” I said. “Brooklyn is the largest place on the East Coast that you’ll get another Savage Saints. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other places, other major metropolitan areas, that could use a chapter of you guys. Boston. D.C. Charlotte. Atlanta. Texas. Chicago. Indianapolis. Minneapolis. All cities that are mostly sprawled out, all cities where you could have chapters of the Savage Saints. Recurring revenue coming your way just for the right to use the name Savage Saints…”
“Interesting.”
This is good. This is really good.
“And what part would you play?” he said. “With all respect, we’re not going to take off a percentage of sales just because you’re an inspiration to others.”
“Of course not,” I said. “Depending on the location, we can have one of us go out and show them how to get the club off the ground. What you and Green Hills are to the West Coast, we can be to the East Coast.”
Richard nodded, stood up, and paced, contemplating. When he had his back turned to us, I briefly glanced at Amelia. She flashed me a grin and a very subtle thumbs up. I had to put my hand over my face when Richard turned back to us to avoid being obvious about looking at Amelia.
“OK, what else?” he said.
We got into a variety of smaller other topics, from giving him support with law enforcement here to establishing a web presence to a whole host of factors. None of them carried the weight that expansion did, but the sheer volume of ideas that came Richard’s way were enough to make it seem promising.
“OK, well, you’ve—”
The door opened. Richard stood. One of his crewmen came out.
“It’s the top of the hour,” the man said. “Should I—”
“No,” he said curtly. “Let us continue to negotiate. Make sure they don’t do anything stupid though, Barber.”
Barber nodded, heeled, and walked out.
“Consider that a gesture of good faith on my part,” Richard said.
I didn’t think it was a gesture. I thought it was just common sense. It only would have been a gesture if it were automatically scheduled.
But I articulated none of this. Instead, I thanked Richard. I was certainly flattering him a little bit, but I was also making sure that negotiations didn’t hit a snag over something stupid.
“So then,” he said. “You’ve pitched all of this to me. This is good. But I need a number from you, Fitz. That’s what this comes back to.”
I nodded.
“I’m not going to low-ball you and say twenty percent because I thought Marcel was just doing that to fuck with you.”
“He did a lot of things to fuck with me,” Richard said, the tension in his voice obvious. “Thinking about that stupid man does not make me feel good. You have him as your president? Why are you not president?”
“He started the club, actually,” I said with a chuckle.
“And? A founder is not always CEO of a company.”
All good points, and I certainly didn’t want to kill the flow of the negotiations.
“Marcel is a good leader in different ways. Negotiation isn’t one of them, though. However, let me explain what I’m thinking.”
I cleared my throat. A lot of this was just going to be made up on the fly. I had to trust my instincts for what I could and could not get away with.
“I think the biggest thing to say is that expansion can net you more money than any deal with us ever could. Let’s just use a round number, say a thousand bucks a month in profit. You get fifty percent, you get five hundred. Or, we help you expand, and you get ten clubs that give you fifteen percent. And we’ve already established that we’ll be above twenty percent, right? So you see?”
Richard nodded.
“I think we should take off twenty percent for expansion and five percent for the other perks. So you’d get a quarter of profits. However, this is my twist to the proposal. For the first year, you don’t take anything from us. But! But. If, after a year, we haven’t expanded at all, we’ll pay up to forty percent of the profits.”
“Ah, a hedge to ensure that you follow through on your part,” Richard said with a laugh. “And how am I to know that you won’t just disappear or refuse to pay after a year?”
“I think you’ve demonstrated you have the superior weaponry.”
“As if you won’t expand your militia in that time.”
True. That’ll probably be the first thing Marcel wants to do.
“At some point, you just have to trust us, Richard,” I said. “We can sit here and talk numbers and possibilities all day. But somewhere in the negotiations, an element of trust has to come into play. Because without it, we’re just two lawyers yapping away. And I don’t think you want that.”
“Fuck no!” he said with a laugh.
He then sighed. A tense silence filled the air. I’d made my offer. I didn’t have anything to say. I didn’t care if Richard fell asleep. I wasn’t going to say anything else until he spoke.
“Arbiter?” Richard said. “Do you see anything to critique?”
“No,” Amelia said. “He has offered you more than your last deal and has given you opportunities that will expand well beyond the scope of mere profits.
In the event that the two of you have a small part of the deal you cannot bridge, I will be happy to intervene, but for right now, I am not needed for anything other than confirmation of a successful deal.”
Now that’s my girl. Fair, tough, but very good at her job.
My girl.
I guess that’s what I’d like her to be, huh? I just can’t believe I’m saying it so strongly and so boldly. Well, not really saying it, at least not yet.
But maybe that’s something that I need to do…
“Let me go and take the deal to the rest of the club,” he said. “I will be back within five minutes.”
As soon as Richard had left the building entirely, I turned to Amelia, held her hand, and kissed her.
“I knew you had it in you,” she said.
“Deal’s not done yet.”
“It all but is,” she said. “Richard might request to change a percentage of something, but like you pointed out, he doesn’t want to kill you guys. He sees you guys as doing the legwork for something that he may have planned himself anyways. In that case, it’s just fine-tuning.”
“I guess so,” I said with a smile. “By the way.”
“Hmm?”
“I was thinking just a second ago, while you were talking,” I said. “I know that my life with the Saints can drive you crazy. I know that when you showed up at the party you felt overwhelmed and disgusted, and I get that. I hope you know that my connection to the club is not through violence or parties but through brotherhood and simplicity.
“But I hope you know that more than them, you’re the person that I feel the most connected to. You have the intelligence that ninety percent of the bankers envy. You have the go-getter attitude necessary to succeed, but you have the compassionate side—when you’re not overburdened with work. You’re sexy, you’re beautiful, and you’re tough. I know that after tonight, after getting knocked upside the head and having to mediate between two motorcycle clubs, there’s probably a part of you that’s looking to get the hell away and never return. I don’t blame you.”
“But if there’s a part of you that wants to keep this going, if there’s a part of you that says, ‘let’s try this and not care about what each of us cares about the other’s job,’ then I would love to.”
Amelia’s smile grew by the second and her cheeks got redder with each passing moment.
“You know what’s funny?” she said. “I was thinking the exact same thing. It’s why I came here. I can’t say I enjoyed getting knocked upside the head—who would?—but I can say that this moment, strangely enough, I think it’s brought us closer together.”
I squeezed her hand harder.
“When this is done,” I said, “you’re getting the longest bike ride of your life.”
“Yeah?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “And after that, you might just be getting the longest ride of your life. If you know what I mean.”
The thought had me instantly aroused. Amelia must have seen it in my eyes, because she burst out laughing, pulling her hand back to put them on the table for support.
Richard walked back in. We both straightened up, turned our attention to Richard, and waited.
“We want one small change,” Richard said. “If you can’t expand in a year, we want you to pay up to fifty percent. Otherwise, you got yourself a deal.”
“Done,” I said.
Amelia was right. The main part was in place. And there was no part of us that needed to negotiate that minor of a point. I just wanted us to get a deal.
Richard extended his hand. I took it and shook it firmly.
“Guess we’re MC brothers now,” Richard said. “Pleasure doing business with you, Fitz.”
“Same, Richard,” I said. “I guess we should go and tell the rest of the club now, huh?”
Richard and I walked out the door, leaving Amelia behind. We gathered all members of the Savage Saints—from both Las Vegas and Brooklyn—and announced the deal.
As people nodded in agreement, Uncle looked at me, came over to me, and gave me a hug.
“Congratulations,” he said. “You just proved you belong in the club. You saved us all from death. It may not have been through bullets, but when it comes to saving the club and saving its members, it doesn’t matter if it’s done through words or violence. You did it. You’re a Savage Saint.”
It was all I had hoped to hear ever since I’d quit my job.
It was all I had hoped to hear ever since I’d joined.
And finally, I had.
Chapter 20: Amelia
I sat on the back of Fitz’s bike as it blazed down the highway, the time well after eleven at night. For the week that I had had, I should have gone to bed about four hours ago. I should have drifted off into sleep by now, and I should not have woken up until about noon tomorrow.
But for as fatiguing as the week had been, I had never felt more thrilled and more exhilarated. I had never felt the surge of...being alive. I had never felt like I had just encountered death so close and survived to laugh at it.
Oh, and being on the bike didn’t hurt in the slightest.
“Whooo!” I cheered as Fitz revved the bike just a bit above the speed limit.
Normally one to drive cautiously, Fitz was content to throw caution to the wind. And why shouldn’t he? He had just saved his club.
He told me after all the handshakes were made and the two clubs went our separate ways that I had played a major part in helping him, but that was only true in the most indirect sense of the word. Fitz had carried the negotiations with Richard and had made the offer; if I had helped him, it was only with very indirect encouragement from right before. It made me proud to see that Fitz could make such a difference.
But forget pride. At this point, I just couldn’t wait for us to get to the beach.
“This is it!” I yelled when we got to the exit in question. “This is the spot where we went last week!”
“Are you sure?” Fitz yelled over the roar of the bike.
“Yes!”
And if it’s not, then we’ll just make new memories here.
Fitz took the exit, drove down a short street toward the beach, found the empty parking lot, and placed his feet on the ground, bringing the vehicle to a stop.
“Wow!” I said, laughing as the tingling between my legs lingered from the vibration of the bike. “I’d say you know how to make me feel pretty damn good!”
“I’d say you know how to make me pretty damn happy,” he shot back.
“Yeah, just wait till you’re naked.”
I didn’t know who was hornier between us, but I knew that we both desperately wanted this moment. It wasn’t just the sexual tension between us; it was the buildup that came because of what we’d just survived. We weren’t only two people who liked each other. We’d survived a potentially fatal and traumatizing moment. We forever shared this moment.
And now, it was time to share something a little less dangerous, at least in the bloody sense.
I grabbed Fitz’s hand and tugged him to the beach, taking my helmet off with my free hand and flicking my hair into the air. I put the helmet on his handlebar and kept pulling him off, so much so that he had to resist to avoid tipping over the bike. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of that moment, and as soon as Fitz got free, the two of us sprinted for the empty beach.
I did take half a second to scan the area and make sure that we were alone. It being Friday night raised the risk that some daring teenagers were out on the prowl, also looking to have some erotic fun, but fortunately for us, Long Island was not exactly a hive of youthful activity. There was no one around. The coast was clear. We were free to act out our naughty fantasies.
“Oh, Fitz,” I said, turning around. “You are so damn sex—”
I didn’t get to finish the word as he kissed me passionately. The two of us twisted and lurched for each other until we fell to the ground, laughing and kissing the whole way. We tried to fight for who would wind up on top first b
efore I won that battle. Just like last time, I took off my top and my bra.
“Damn,” he said. “So fucking sexy every single time.”
But then, without warning, he bucked me over, and now he was the one on top.
“But this time, you come first,” he said.
“I have a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t we both come together?”
Fitz smiled.
“I knew you were the better negotiator of the two.”
“Haha, you’re a funny man. Get those pants off, now,” I said.
“That’s not a negotiation, that’s an order.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, were you negotiating to try and keep your pants on?”
Fitz laughed as he hurried to get naked. He yanked on my pants, taking them and my underwear off. And just like that, once more, we were both naked underneath the sky.
But this time, we’d gotten a full moon. This time, everything on the beach seemed visible. And as I kissed Fitz’s face, I wanted everything to be seen.
“Oh, Fitz, baby,” I moaned as he rubbed himself all over me, getting wetter and wetter by the second. “God, I want you so bad.”
“I want you,” he said. “No more breakups. No more dancing around each other. We’re going to really do this. Got it?”
“Oh, fuck yes,” I said. “Tell me what you’re going to do, Fitz. Fucking take me!”
“I’d rather show you.”
With that, Fitz inserted himself into me, expanding me as he pressed in. I tilted my head back as he bit down on my neck. My hips arched into him. I let out a gasp that included his name and some inaudible words. My fingernails clutched onto him.
“Oh, fuck, Fitz,” I moaned.
I still made some effort to keep my gasps and grunts a little quiet, but for the most part, I just pressed my face into his collarbone and his neck. Resisting making too much noise was just more trouble than it was worth, and honestly, I didn’t need to suppress myself at all. Better to use natural sound mufflers than to try and do it on my own.
