by Alice Ward
Zach nodded and moved to follow his dad out into the hallway.
“Oh,” he said quickly, whipping back around to face me. “And T? Don’t forget to bring your notebook. You’ll want to take notes today, okay?”
I nodded and forced a smile that fell the second he disappeared down the hall. With a roll of my eyes, I spun my chair around to face the back wall. In five years, I’d never had an encounter with Zach that didn’t make my queasy. He was smart, but he rarely used his intelligence for anything other than talking his way out of trouble. I hated the fact that he was above me in the company when I spent most of my time doing his job. Covering his ass had become my unofficial job description, and I was sick of it.
There was nothing I could do but grin and take it, though. Zach was Ray’s son, the sole heir to the Yates’ family fortune. Ray Yates was a name brand in the motorcycle world. The company was right up there with Harley Davidson and Kawasaki. I was thrilled to work there, and I knew it was great for my career, but I still couldn’t stand being around Zach.
As nine o’clock approached, I sighed and gathered my things for the meeting. I walked slowly toward the conference room, not wanting to face Zach again. When I reached the conference room, though, Zach was nowhere to be found. Most of the chairs were filling up quickly. Ray sat at the head of the table with an empty chair on either side of him. I moved immediately to take the seat on his right.
He smiled when I sat down, but didn’t say anything. Ray wasn’t one for meaningless chit chat. It was one reason I loved working for him. Except for Zach’s arrogance, Ray Yates Motorcycles was the best job I’d ever had.
The conference room was full now, and Zach filed in at the last minute. At exactly nine o’clock, Ray cleared his throat and stood up. Everyone fell silent immediately.
“I know this a little unusual,” he said with a smile. “Friday morning meetings are generally useless, but this was too important to wait until Monday. Zach and I have been going over the numbers with the board for the past couple weeks. Things don’t look good. Our profits are declining at an alarming rate, and we can’t sit back and do nothing. We thought it was just a natural fall in the market, but it isn’t. We’re losing popularity, and with that, we’re losing money. Fast.”
There were hushed whispers around the room. I didn’t need to hear them to know what everyone was worried about. Layoffs.
“Relax,” Ray laughed. “We aren’t talking about firing anyone, yet. We’re hoping it won’t have to come to that. That’s what this meeting is about. Our company needs a change. Something big. Drastic. Something that will bring in more customers.”
With that, Ray turned to Zach who stood up and moved to stand beside his father.
“Our target demographic is, obviously, the motorcycle community,” Zach said. “The problem is, they have no interest in buying from us anymore. Now, we don’t know why that is. Our quality hasn’t decreased. So, we’re thinking it’s our image.”
“Our image?” I interjected without thinking.
“Yes.” Zach nodded. “Our image is no longer appealing to the community.”
“Tara,” Ray said. “Would you run to my office and grab the iPad? I’d like us to review the numbers so everyone understands where we stand.”
“Sure,” I said with a frown.
Once I was safely out of the conference room, I let my face fall even further. How much trouble was the company in? Why didn’t Ray confide in me before the meeting? Why was Zach the one helping him with this issue?
These questions and more ran through my mind as I pushed open the door to Ray’s office. I hurried over to his desk and pulled out the middle drawer. The iPad was sitting right on top. I grabbed it, already pushing the drawer closed, when something caught my eye. Sitting in the drawer, right on top, was a glossy picture of a young man.
I picked up the picture and examined it. The man couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. He was sitting on a Ray Yates bike, his shaggy black hair falling over his face. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. His blue eyes were focused somewhere behind the camera. It was as if he was looking straight through the photographer.
Whoever the man was, he looked oddly familiar to me. I turned the photo over and saw the name “Sean” scrawled in messy handwriting on the back. I frowned and turned the picture back over. I’d always known Ray had another son, but I never knew his name. It was obvious from the color of his eyes and the shape of his jaw that he was a Yates.
I tucked both the iPad and the picture under my arm and half-ran back to the conference room. The second I saw the picture an idea began to form in my mind. It was crazy, and it probably wouldn’t work, but I knew I had to try.
When I got back to the conference room, they were in the middle of throwing around ideas. People were talking a mile a minute. No one noticed me until I walked to the front of the room and stood right beside Ray.
“Thank you,” he said, reaching for the iPad. I moved it out of his reach and set it on the table.
“Ray,” I said quickly. “Who is this?”
I held the picture out to Ray. His face changed in an instant. His lips tightened and his eyebrows pulled together. I watched as his cheeks began to redden and his eyes narrowed slightly. I knew I needed to talk fast.
“He is perfect for the company,” I said. “He’s exactly who we need to turn things around.”
“What are you talking about?” Ray asked. The room fell silent again, everyone’s attention glued to Ray and me.
“This is the image we’re looking for,” I explained. “With him as the face of the company, we’ll be back on top in no time.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zach snapped.
“I do!” I argued. “I know what the motorcycle community is looking for, and this is it! He is it!”
Ray was already shaking his head before I even finished speaking. He was staring at the picture in his hand with a mixture of sadness and regret. I wanted to say more, to explain myself further, but the look on his face told me to hold my tongue.
“Tara isn’t wrong,” Ray said finally. He spoke softly, but his voice carried across the silent conference room. “This is the image we’re looking for.”
He slid the picture into the middle of the table. Everyone leaned in to get a better look. I held my breath and waited for Ray to say more.
“This could help us,” Ray said. “Or, something like this. Let’s get in touch with modeling agencies. Let’s find someone who fits this look.”
“But Ray,” I said quickly. “It won’t be authentic. Our customers will know it’s staged.”
“It’s our best option,” Ray argued. “Your idea is a good one, Tara. Let’s run with it.”
“My idea is not to hire a model!” I said with a shake of my head. “That’s just fake. Everyone will see right through it. My idea is Sean. You can tell just from a picture that motorcycles are his life. He looks like he was born to ride. That will sell. That is what our customers want to see.”
“It’s not an option,” Ray said. His voice was firm. “The situation with Sean is complicated.”
“But…” I began, but Ray cut me off with a look. He turned back to the group.
“Let’s get the numbers for those modeling agencies.”
CHAPTER THREE
Sean
“Lock up when you’re done, Sean,” my boss said as he waved goodbye. “See you tomorrow.”
“Night,” I said.
The back door closed with a boom, and I was alone. I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the counter. Everything in the shop was closed for the night. I locked up the equipment and closed out my accounts, but I wasn’t quite ready to leave. Going home would mean sitting alone in my living room and watching television while eating a microwave dinner for one. I was in no hurry.
Instead, I used the office computer to log into my bank account. I wanted to see how much money I had. Maybe I could send Claire a litt
le extra for Paisley. Three fifty would cover the camps, but maybe Claire could buy her some extra art supplies.
When I saw my account balance, I knew I was dreaming. It would be a stretch to send the last hundred and fifty to Claire. There was no way I’d be able to swing more until the following month. I sighed and logged off the computer. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d spent Paisley’s entire life failing her, why should anything be different now?
As I sat there, I remembered my conversation with Claire earlier in the day. Her offer seemed genuine, but I didn’t trust her. Claire’s history of lying and cheating made me hesitant. She wanted me in Paisley’s life today, but what if that changed tomorrow? What if I let myself hope and then Claire took that hope away from me again?
For years, I wanted nothing more than to see my daughter. I thought of Paisley every single day. I wondered what kind of person she was becoming. Except for a few pictures twice a year, I didn’t know anything about her. Claire kept Paisley safely tucked away, far removed from me. As much as I hated her for it, part of me was grateful. If Paisley never knew me, I could never truly disappoint her.
Still, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to take Claire up on her offer. Getting to know Paisley would have been a dream come true. Maybe, after all these years, we could have a real father-daughter relationship. I smiled at the thought, but it quickly faded from my lips. There was a reason I didn’t fight Claire over Paisley. Paisley deserved the world and I couldn’t give it to her. She deserved a good life and, so far, Claire had provided exactly that. I didn’t know if I could do the same.
My mind was still racing when I heard the front door ding. I jerked my head up with a frown. We’d been closed for an hour. Who was coming inside?
“I’m sorry, we’re closed!” I called from the back. I poked my head around the corner and saw a man wearing a suit step further inside. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and walked out front.
“Are you Mr. Yates?” the man asked. “Sean Yates?”
“I am,” I said suspiciously. “But like I said, we’re closed for the night. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“Mr. Yates,” the man said. “I’m not looking for a mechanic. I’m sorry, but I have some bad news.”
The world around me seemed to shrink at his words. A million possibilities flew through my mind. My father died. My brother was in the hospital. The FBI was investigating the shop, and I was being arrested.
“A few hours ago,” the man continued. “Your ex-wife, Claire Holland, was in a car accident. She was pronounced dead on scene.”
Of all the horrific possibilities flooding my mind, that was the last thing I expected. I blinked. My heart was racing. My breathing slowed. I shook my head slowly, not wanting to believe what the man was saying. Immediately, I pictured Paisley’s face.
“Paisley,” I said weakly. “My daughter. What’s going to happen to her now?”
“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Yates,” he said. “Paisley Holland is at the police station downtown. We had an officer pick her up from summer camp and a CPS agent informed her of her mother’s death. The same agent is with her now.”
“CPS?” I asked. My mind was blank.
“Child Protective Services,” he explained simply.
“I know,” I said impatiently. “What happens next? Does she go to Claire’s parents or...”
“Mr. Yates,” the man said slowly. “I thought you were aware of the situation. Your ex-wife has no surviving family other than Paisley. Her parents died years ago, and she was an only child.”
“I never met her parents,” I said with a shake of my head. “She didn’t keep in touch with them when we were married.”
“By law, custody of Paisley transferred to you upon Claire’s death,” the man said. He looked at me like I was going to combust at any moment. “Now, if you’re unprepared or unwilling to accept that responsibility, we’ll assign her to a foster home, and she’ll become a ward of the state. It’s up to you.”
His words felt like ice being poured in my ears. My entire body went cold as I thought of my baby girl being taken to a stranger. I remembered the way she looked as a baby. Small and pure. I was terrified to hold her because I thought she might break. Even then, I knew she was special. Part of why I agreed to stay away was because I didn’t want to rob her of her innocence. I didn’t want her to inherit my bad luck.
“No,” I said suddenly. I shook my head firmly. “She’s my daughter. I’ll take her. I want her.”
“Good,” the man smiled for the first time since he’d arrived. “Come with me, then. I’ll take you to her. You’ll need your I.D. so we can fill out the necessary paperwork.”
“Okay,” I nodded.
***
At the police station, I climbed off my bike and walked over to the man’s car. He climbed out and motioned for me to follow him inside.
“I don’t know your name,” I realized, speaking out loud.
“I’m Tony Hudson,” he said.
“Nice to meet you,” I said awkwardly. Every inch of my body was shaking with nerves. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. It was like I was living inside of someone else’s body, someone else’s life.
“Relax, Mr. Yates,” Tony said kindly. “She’s your daughter. She’s just going to be happy to see a familiar face amid all this.”
“I’m not familiar to her,” I explained. “She doesn’t even know me.”
“She will.”
Tony’s words, more than anything, calmed me just enough that the shaking stopped. I followed him inside the police station and down two hallways. We turned to the right and there she was. She was sitting with her back to the far wall. Her eyes were focused on her feet and her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She was wearing an overly large t-shirt and shorts that covered a bathing suit. She must have been at swim camp when they picked her up.
“Go ahead,” Tony said. He nodded toward Paisley. I moved without thinking.
When I approached her, she looked up quickly and stared at me with wide eyes. I couldn’t tell if she recognized me or not.
“Paisley?” I asked, even though I knew it was her.
“Yes,” she answered simply. I expected her voice to be hoarse from crying, but she sounded fine. Just like a normal little girl.
“My name is Sean Yates,” I said slowly. “I’m your—”
“You’re my dad,” she interrupted. “I know. I’ve seen pictures.”
“Oh,” I said. I fell silent, trying to think of something else to say. My mouth was dry and my tongue felt heavy. I wanted to say something, anything that might make her feel better. There was nothing.
“Is my mom really dead?” she asked bluntly. I sat down beside her and exhaled loudly. I tried to answer her, but the only thing I could do was nod. She nodded back and said, “Yeah.”
I waited for her to cry. I expected to see her slump in her chair and succumb to sobs, but she didn’t. She simply sat there and stared off into the distance. I watched her closely, waiting for any sign that she might need comfort. She never gave any. In that moment, she reminded me so much of myself. She was quiet. Stoic. Strong. Everything I was, and everything I wished I wasn’t.
“So,” she said. “I guess that means we’re stuck together now.”
I nodded again and she sighed deeply. She folded her hands together and turned to face me head on. I started into her eyes and it was like looking in a mirror. They were the exact same shade of blue as mine. I wanted to reach over and wrap my arm around her shoulder, but I told myself to wait. She didn’t even know me yet.
“When can we leave?” she asked. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“I’ll go sign the papers and then we can go.”
I hurried over to Tony and dealt with the formalities. By the time we were finished, it was late, and I knew Paisley needed to get some rest.
“When can we get inside the house?” I
asked Tony. “Claire’s house, I mean. Paisley will need clothes and…”
“We took her home to pack a bag,” Tony explained. “Everything else will be handled quickly. We’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.” I nodded and turned back to Paisley. She grabbed a duffle bag from underneath her chair and walked over to me.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She followed me out to the parking lot. I led the way to my bike and held my hand out for her bag. I flung the strap over my head so it sat across my body. Pulling out my helmet, I placed it on my head before grabbing my spare and handing it to Paisley. When I turned back to her, I saw that she was staring at the motorcycle with her mouth hanging open.
“You drive a motorcycle?” she asked softly.
“Is that bad?” I asked quickly. “If you don’t want to ride on it, we can ask one of the officers to drive us. I’ll just get the bike later.”
“Are you kidding?” Paisley said. “This is awesome.”
I smiled and threw my legs over the bike. I held my hand out to her and helped pull her on behind me.
“Is your helmet tight?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Okay, hold on to me,” I ordered. “Tightly. And do not let go.”
“Okay.” I felt her little arms wrap around my waist. I turned on the bike and kicked it into gear. Paisley’s arms tightened as we pulled out of the parking lot.
I drove ten miles under the speed limit the whole way to my place. My heart raced with fear as I turned every corner. I knew after about five minutes that I would need to invest in a used car. Paisley didn’t need to be on the back of my bike any more often than she had to be.
When we pulled into my driveway, I turned the bike off and helped Paisley to the ground. We walked in silence to the front door. I unlocked it and walked inside with Paisley right behind me. Immediately, I wished I’d cleaned up that morning. The place wasn’t a wreck, but I wasn’t proud of it, either.
“This way,” I said.
I showed Paisley to the spare bedroom. She walked inside and looked around. I laid her bag down on the bed.
