Chapter 4

I arrived in Holbrooke one week ago. The town is what you would expect a small town to be. People waving to one another, smiling and talking on the side walks in front of the local stores.

The town wasn't bustling with busy bodies rushing, like the city I previously lived in. I could sleep at night without being woken up by honking vehicles.

Holbrooke had one grocery store, hailed the Stocked Pantry. Three gas stations, three fast-food places, four restaurants, one of my favorite places to eat so far was a seafood restaurant called Tugboats.

Holbrooke also had a family-owned diner that served the finest coffee, called Java Stop. They further had the best lemon bread I ever tasted. It didn't hurt that the old couple that owned it were super friendly and gave me my first coffee on the house.

I had been staying in a motel while I went apartment hunting. It only took me two days to decide where I wanted to live, not that I even had many options.

It was the closest of the two apartment complexes in town, and a bonus for me. They had a community pool for those that lived there.

My apartment wasn't fancy. I kind of blown through all my savings on my adventure and needed something on the cheaper side. It was a one bedroom apart, and the place had character. Even had a little potted plant next to my door that I found adorable and in need of being watered.

The manager was a slight creepy, though.

“Don't forget, if you need anything, anything at all. Come and get me,” he whispered, licked his lips and added. “I'm right downstairs and I have a set of keys.”

I nodded my head, snatched the keys out of his hands and decided the first thing I needed to do was change the locks because no way in hell would I be going to that man for anything. If my sink quit working, I'd fix it on my own before allowing that guy inside my home.

The next day, I ventured around my new town. I stopped at the coffee shop to start my morning, met the owners that are named Miranda and Hermit, they told me I never enjoyed coffee like theirs. At first, I was a little spectacle, but as soon as that yummy caramel goodness hit my tongue, I concluded they were correct, the best I ever tasted. It didn't hurt that they had wonderful tasting lemon bread.

I ran a few more errands, needing to stock up my empty, depressed fridge and, of course, the new locks for my apartment door. I headed home once I gathered all the things I needed to get settled, and spent the next four hours trying to figure out how to change a door lock. I spent a few of those hours watching tutorial video's on my phone that only helped a little.

I only had a couple more thousand dollars in my bank account and concluded that the next thing I had to do was to find a job. That was the tricky part.

I had spent years in college working on my accounting degree and didn't want to throw all those years of hard work away. I searched for places that required accounting but also wouldn't keep me locked in a room all freaking day.

Once I found a couple of options, I cut the job ads from the newspaper and threw them into a bowl. I decided that the first one I plucked up was going to be where I applied.

I took a deep breath, looked up towards my ceiling, hoping my daddy was here with me, and picked a piece of paper out of the bowl.

Accountant needed five days a week. The applicant makes own schedule as long as the job gets done. Apply at the address listed below, no online applications.

It sounded perfect.

I wouldn't be wasting those years I gave into my profession, and I wouldn't have to be stuck in an office for hours every day.

It is now only two pm, and I figured I might as well go put my application in before someone else does.

I rummaged through my suitcase and decided that my light pink shirt and black dress pants and my black flats would be the perfect job hunting outfit.

I pulled my dirty blonde hair into a ponytail, applied a little foundation to my face and put on a light pink lipstick and headed out.

I'm now heading to apply, feeling nervous and hoping I land this job. I'm good at my job, I have pretty good experience and as long as I don't blow it today, I see no reason I shouldn't land it.

“Turn right to your destination,” my GPS ordered me and I shoved the remaining Snickers bar into my mouth and did that, and when I pulled into the parking lot, I almost choked on that bite of Snickers' bar.

I'm driving through a gate leading me towards a motorcycle clubhouse.

I slowly park my car, thinking maybe I should just head home. I don't think this is the type of place for someone like me. Motorcycle clubs are rough, loud, and full of bossy men, but I quickly decided against leaving and opened my car door.

“I guess this is where you felt I should be,” I muttered and looked up to the sky, knowing my daddy was looking down at me.

Of course.

He loved his motorcycle, and this is precisely the place my daddy would want me to work at on my adventure for fun and mistakes.

“Okay, you can do this,” I murmured to myself as I closed my door, pulled my purse over my shoulder and headed towards the front door.

The closer I get to the front door, the louder the music is coming from the inside. If I hadn't been visiting barrooms the past several weeks, I would have tucked tail and carried my ass back to my car.

I suck in a deep breath, straighten my back and knock hard on the door, making sure that someone on the inside would hear me above the loud rock music blasting through the speakers on the other side of the door.

The door opened a second later and a big man, and when I say big, I mean a freaking huge man, was now standing on the other side of the door, scowling down at me and smirked when his eyes roamed down my body.

“Looking for some fun, darling?” He asked me, his deep slurring words caused me to once again become uneasy.

“Not fun. I'm here for a job,” I informed him and made certain my back was still straight, and I wasn't cowarding back from the big man.

“Job?” He asked.

“Yes.” I confirmed.

“Darling, what job you looking to get round here? We have enough club whores, we not looking to add more. Them bitches give us enough headache.”

I really don't care about them bitches and the fact that them bitches were giving them headaches.

“Um-”

“What job?” He asked again, this time sounding annoyed, probably because I'm keeping him from the fun he was previously been having inside.

“I saw an ad in the paper-,” I started to explain, but the big man just talked over me.

“I don't have all day, suga. What job?” He growled and leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.

“Accountant,"

“Heather's leaving?” He asked.

I don't think he was really asking me the question therefore I decided to not answer.

“Heather leaving?”

How am I supposed to know? The ad didn't exactly give a background on the current position holder.

“I don't know who Heather is, and being that I don't know who Heather is, I can't exactly tell you whether Heather is leaving or not,” I replied and gave him the only answer I could.

“Shame. That woman got nice legs,” he said with a grin before adding. “Like you.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

I have never been told I had nice legs before, and I'll admit it's pretty nice for a man, even a big scary looking man, to complement them.

But I wasn't here for fun right now. I was here to add money back into my bank account so that I could keep having fun.

“So?” I asked and waited for this conversation to move on from my nice legs and back to the topic at hand.

“So?”

“The job,” I snapped, now losing my patience with him and was getting ready to demand that someone else come to this door and help me, but before I could the big man chuckled, causing my words to die. I stared at him in confusion. “What's funny?”

“You.” He shrugged.

“Me?” I asked, not understanding how me standing in front of him seeking employment was funny.

“Yes.” He informed me, grin now growing bigger.

“Me?” I repeated, narrowed my eyes, wanting to make sure he just what that.

“You.” He confirmed.

“How?” I demanded and placed my hands on my hips, ready to hear his reasoning on how I'm apparently funny.

“You standing here dressed like that.” He chuckled before adding. “It helps that you have nice legs.”

“What's funny with the way I'm dressed?” I hissed. I happen to think I look very cute right now.

"Darling. You're all fancy, coming to apply at a motorcycle club. You don't see nothing wrong with that?” The big man's chuckle got louder.

Okay, big hyena.

The nerve.

“I look cute,” I defended myself and scolded at him. “This is a job interview Sr, how else was I supposed to dress?”

“Not in anything pink.” He informed me before taking a sip of his beer and said, "Name's Tiny.”

“Tiny?” I asked.

What kind of name was Tiny?

Wasn't anything tiny about this man.

Whose momma names their son tiny?

“Tiny.” He growled.

“You're not tiny.” I informed him, even though I'm pretty sure I didn't need to inform him because I'm also pretty sure he already knew he wasn't tiny.

“Nope darling, ain't nothing about me tiny.” He smirked and said. “Come on. I'll take ya ass to see Heather.”

“I'd appreciate it.” I told him and followed him inside, and the first thing that hit me was the smell of something awful. “What is that smell?” I asked and covered my nose with my hand.

“Weed.”

“Weed?” I asked.

“Yeah gorgeous. Never smelled weed before?” Tiny asked, and turned towards me with a curious expression on his face.

“Never.” I informed him.

“Never smoked weed?” He asked.

“If I never smelt it, that would mean I never smoked it, big man,” I sighed, and straighten my back. “Nothing is wrong with me, never smoking weed.”

“Better get used to the smell then, girl.” He grunted and led me through the bar area.

My eyes roamed around everywhere, men wearing black leather vests were sitting around the bar having a drink. Some of those men on the couches across the room and women dressed in barely anything were dancing around the room, some of those women even sitting in the men's laps, kissing them.

“Better get used to that, too.” Tiny said over the music.

“What?” I asked.

“If you get the job, you gonna be seeing a lot more than that.” He sighed and continued to lead me down a long hallway with rooms on each side.

“Okay,” I shrugged.

I don't care about what I see, I'm just here to do my job, get paid and go back to having fun.

Tiny stopped walking and banged on a door. “Heather, you in girl? Got a girl out here saying she's looking for a job.” He shouted at the door.

A few seconds later, the door swings open and a beautiful woman appeared on the other side of the door.

“Hi. I'm Heather. You here for the accountant position?” She asked me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, and smiled up at Tiny. “Thanks for bringing her Tin.”

“Ya welcome darling, ima miss seeing you around here,” Tiny told her.

“I know, but my grandpa needs me to help with my grandma. She got dementia, and it's getting worse. I need to go home.” She said, sadness coating her words, before looking at me. “Come in and we can get started.”

“Started?” I asked.

“Yeah. I need to get home soon and while you are here, we gonna just go ahead and do the interview.” She informed me and waved her hand to come inside her office.

“Okay,” I told her and stepped beside her walking into the room, trying to push down the nerves forming inside my stomach, and looked up at Tiny. “Thanks.”

“No problem, girl.” He growled before striding away.

“Tell me a little about yourself before we get started,” she said, walking across the room and sitting down behind her desk.

“My names Riley. I went to college to get my degree in accounting. I have a few years of experience. My last job was for a medical pharmacy-”

“Not a work history. I'm talking about you.” She held her hand up and stopped me.

About me?

What about me?

That I just quit my job without notice?

That I just ended my long term relationship out of nowhere?

That I have only been in this town a week?

Well, here it goes.

“I worked at the same boring job, did the same boring thing day after day. I was in a relationship I was no longer happy in. My daddy recently died of cancer and made me promise him that I'd start enjoying my life. I just moved into town. I loved the name and it stuck. I have been on the road for over six weeks doing exactly what I promised my daddy, and now I'm trying to settle down into a new life, while still having that fun. I know this must sound crazy to you, but I can assure you I can and will do the job correctly.” I explained, and probably explained myself, a little too much.

“Not crazy at all,” she whispered, smiled and then added. “You will be responsible for two locations, the club's bar and the club's garage. That a problem?”

“No.”

“I know I have a fancy office here, but I'm barely in it. I like to get my work done at the places I'm working on. You will have your office at each location. The times you go to do that job and to each location will be on you. The boys will not babysit you. It's on you to make sure the work is done before the week is over. You are paid a salary every week and your day's may say five days a week, but it never takes me five days to get my work done. If it takes you that, it's fine but say you get the job done in two days, you have the rest of the week off still being paid that salary because if one of the locations managers need you they will call you. You will also oversee payroll,” she informed me, taking a deep breath and then continued. “The boys are a rough bunch. It will take a while to get used to them, but they mean well and would never harm a woman no matter how rough or rude you may think they are. You will need to get used to the things they do around here. They do drugs mostly weed, because the president-”

“President?” I asked confused.

The only kind of presidents I know are in the White House and none would be caught having anything to do with these types of places.

“The president of the MC, your boss, doesn't like the boys to do more than just weed. Some like to do the heavy stuff, but it never gets out of hand,” she explained.

“Oh,” I whispered because I didn't know what else to say to that.

“I see you know nothing about the MC life girl,” Heather laughed.

“None at all,” I replied, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Each club has a president, the big man, the one that makes the final decisions, then you have the VP, which stands for vice president, he is in charge if the president isn't around, and the Sergeant at Arm, he keeps the club safe and in check when needed,” she explained and then said. “They have more members with titles and other members who are just members, but you will learn them in time. The ones I just named are the ones you would be dealing with while working. If you have any questions or problems while working on the accounts, you are to bring those questions to the president and if the president isn't around, the vice president and if those two got themselves between a women's thighs, the Sergeant at arms.”

Good freaking God.

“Okay,” I replied.

“Got any issues with that?” She asked and pulled out some papers from a drawer behind her desk.

“Nope.” I responded.

President, Vice President and Sergeant at arms in that order.

No issues.

“You will end up seeing a lot of things you are not used to having to see, things that are normally saved for the bedroom,” she informed me.

“The bedroom?” I asked confused on what I could see that should be saved for the bedroom while I'm working.

“The men like to live wild and free, and the way they do that is doing whatever the hell they want. You will see them bending women over the pool table, stripped naked on the couch. Fucking. Sex in public,” she explained.

“Um,”

“You can handle that?” She asked, raised one freshly groomed brow, and waited for my answer.

“Yes. I can,” I replied, not exactly sure if I could actually handle that, but I guess I'm going to have to learn to handle that if I wanted this job.

Part of the fun.

“Good. Let's go over the locations you will be responsible for,” she said, smiled big and added. “You will get used to it all, I promise.”

Hopefully.

Sex in public?