“Do you like fish and chips?” he asked as he started the car.
“Not fish, but I love prawns and calamari. Where are we going?” His arms were distracting me as they steered the car and changed gears. And that musk smell of his cologne; it was doing things to me that made it hard to concentrate.
“Thought we’d go down to Wynnum. That okay with you?”
“I love Wynnum. Do you go there much?”
“Not as much as I’d like. But the salt air and water helps me process shit in my mind and I need that right about now.”
“You know, you keep surprising me.”
Glancing at me briefly with a serious look on his face, he said, “Yeah? Well, you do the same to me.”
“Can I ask you something about your club?”
“Harlow, you can ask me anything. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer it though.”
“Did you always want to join Storm or did you just do it because your Dad was the President?”
He was quiet for a moment and I figured this was going to be one of those questions he wouldn’t answer but then he replied, “I grew up knowing I’d join. It’s in my blood. But when I finished high school there was awhile there where I questioned it. I did well in school because my Mum pushed me. I look back now and wonder if she wanted me to have options other than the club. She even made me apply to university and I got accepted into an engineering course. Dad wanted me in the club though and I couldn’t fight what was in me.”
“Do you regret that choice?”
This time he was quick to answer. “Never. I love my club; they’re my family.”
I settled back in my seat, enjoying his openness. “So, how does it all work?”
“How does what work?”
“Well, you work for the club right? Do you just earn money from Indigo?”
“We don’t run illegal operations if that’s what you’re asking. Our money comes from businesses that we own.”
“What kinds of businesses?”
He raised his eyebrows as he flicked a quick glance at me. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“Actually, I do believe you. I’m just curious, that’s all. I don’t know anything about bikers so I’m just trying to get my head around how it all works.”
“You sound like you don’t usually believe people. Where’s that come from, babe?” His tone was softer now; I could get used to that tone being directed at me.
“You don’t really want to hear all about that.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
My stomach unleashed more butterflies at his words. He hadn’t said anything sweet or sexy, but that one sentence said so much to me about him. In my experience with men, and granted I’d chosen some real assholes, they didn’t want to get to know me; they wanted to get inside me. So yeah, Scott was all about the butterflies.
“My last boyfriend, Billy, cheated on me with my best friend. He also stole from me; over five thousand dollars that I’d been saving so that I could quit my job eventually and spend my time working towards getting my art into a gallery. This was after living together for three years. Before him was Matt who I dated for a year before I discovered the bullshit life story he’d given me to hide the fact that he was a no hoping bludger who was sucking me dry of money and happiness. Matt came after Neil who -”
Scott cut me off, his voice harsh, “Stop. I don’t want to know anymore about those assholes. You ever tell me where they live, they’ll wish they’d never set eyes on you.” We were stopped at a red light and he focused his eyes on me. There was pain in those eyes but there was also warmth that attached itself to my heart, and I was pretty sure that in that moment, I was his. His to have however he wanted.
The light changed and the moment was broken, but I’d felt it and I wondered if he had too.
“What kind of art do you make?” he asked, and I was thankful for the change in the conversation. I wasn’t sure if he’d done that on purpose but I was fast learning that Scott was very intuitive so I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a calculated move.
“Mixed media art.”
“Mixed what?”
“It’s art that uses a range of mediums, so I mix paint with ink and collage and pretty much anything I want to put on there. I’ll show you some of my pieces; that’s probably the best way for you to understand what I mean.”
He moved his left arm to rest behind my headrest and looked over at me and smiled. “I’d like that.” It wasn’t his smile so much that hit me; it was the crinkled eyes.
Oh, holy God; I really was done for.
Scott’s phone rang at that moment and a male’s voice filled the car. “Scott, you got a minute?”
“Griff, I’ve got Harlow with me but go ahead.”
“I’ve got some information about Black Deeds and our security issues. You good with that?”
“Yeah, brother, shoot.”
“It looks like they’ve been nosing around some of our suppliers, gathering information about our orders and such. Even offered a bribe to one of them to stop our supply. Roughed him up a bit when he refused. I’ve offered them some muscle until this is dealt with. The other thing is that they’ve been spotted at some of our other businesses besides Indigo. No other security breaches though.”
Scott looked like he was about to blow a fuse. “Christ!”
“Yeah,” Griff agreed.
“Keep digging around, and let’s start our own fucking recon on them.”
“My thoughts exactly. Talk to you later,” he said, and ended the call.
I was quiet while Scott processed what Griff had told him. Having no idea what they were talking about and knowing it was none of my business anyway, I refrained from asking him anything about that conversation. We drove in silence for awhile but it wasn’t the kind of silence where I was trying desperately to come up with something to say. No, it was an easy silence and I realised that being with Scott was easy. Sure, I felt that excited, nervous buzz a little but that had to do with my attraction to him. Just being with him though, was uncomplicated; he put me at ease with the way he treated me.
Eventually, I broke the silence. “Can I ask you another question?”
He chuckled. “Something tells me you’re going to anyway.”
“What does your Dad do as the President? Because it seems to me like you’re in charge of a lot.”
“He’s handed a lot of the responsibility over to me; getting me ready to take over as President when he steps down. But he still does a lot.”
“When will he step down?”
“Not anytime soon. Could be years but I need to be ready.”
“Griff didn’t want to tell you that stuff with me listening, did he?”
“No, he didn’t.”
I took that in. Scott said a lot without actually saying a lot.
A couple of minutes later we pulled up to Wynnum Esplanade and Scott parked his car on the road near the wading pool. We went across to Pelican’s Nest and he bought us lunch which we took to the park to eat. It was a beautiful day to be out; it kind of felt naughty to be sitting in the sun by the ocean on a work day.
Scott set us up at a picnic table and then asked me, “Is your art something you still want to pursue?”