Shortly after a Tuesday morning department meeting, the receptionist called my desk.
“Mallory Pierce.”
Her delicate voice said, “Mallory, I have a woman here to see you. She says it’s important and her name is Gwendolyn Pierce.”
Fantastic. My morning had been going really well, right up to now. Cal had rolled in just after two in the morning, and as promised he woke me up to start up where we left off in the living room. When my alarm went off at a quarter after six, I turned it off and was going to sneak out of my bed. Cal’s arm shot out and pulled me on top of him for his version of “good morning.” When I got to work, I found my boss had approved my vacation request for next week. So, Gwen showing up at my office, strike that, inside my office, put a damper on my good mood.
As I made my way to the reception area, I tried to scout some of the smaller conference rooms. Two appeared to be open, at the moment, anyway. I remembered the last visit Gwen paid me in the company parking lot. I hoped she wasn’t sitting in the lobby wearing a housedress. That would be extremely awkward. I worried for naught, when I entered the lobby I saw she was wearing a pair of brown dress pants with a modest beige scoop-neck sweater. Her hair was not haphazard as it had been a few weeks ago, either.
I pasted a smile on my face for her, and said, “Gwen. So good to see you. Come on back, and we’ll talk in a conference room.”
I led Gwen to one of the small rooms that held an oversized desk and a phone. I shut the door behind her and leaned myself up against it. I crossed my arms over my chest as Gwen took a seat at the table.
Gwen realized I wasn’t moving to sit down and she settled her gaze on me. “Mallory. I don’t know where you’ve been, or who this new person is in your life, but I desperately need your help.”
I let a breath out through my nose. “No, you don’t. If you genuinely have credit card debt issues, there are places you can turn to for help. Consolidation, consumer credit counseling –”
Her eyes narrowed at me, “You think Gregory would ever speak to me this way?”
I widened my eyes at her. “Yeah, I do. In fact, he would have demanded the credit card statements before ever providing you with the check if Landon and I had been killed instead. I have a JSO detective telling me the same thing Cal told me. I should never have given you that money, and you’re not getting anything else from me. You will not suck me dry. I lost my husband and my son. It’s taken the last eighteen months for me to start to rejoin the living in any real shape or form. Hell, you should have been urging me to get back into the world just like my mother and Natasha, but you seem to be determined to keep me in the past. You got what money I received. Please do not come back to my place of work.”
I opened the door to the conference room and gestured for her to go out. She stood up and said in a low voice, “I thought you loved me as I love you, Mallory. Like the daughter I never had. I see that is not the case.”
Guilt. Greg used to tell me she could lay on a guilt-trip like nobody else. Seemed I was getting my dose of the guilt-trip treatment. As she stepped into the hall I said, “No, Gwen. That’s where you’re wrong. When you get yourself together, you’ll see this for the tough love that it happens to be. I wish nothing but the best for you, but if you need anything in the future, I’ll have to buy it for you, not provide you with cash.”
I returned to my desk, anxious to get back to work. The earlier department meeting had taken up over an hour of my morning, and Gwen’s visit took almost another half-hour from me. I tried to concentrate in order to make up for lost time, but by the time it was 11:30, I was feeling completely unproductive. I knew I needed a break. I had brought a frozen dinner with me for lunch, but I needed to get out of the office. I wanted to vent to somebody, but I couldn’t call Natasha since she was in the middle of her school day. I wasn’t about to call Cal, because God knew he was as biased as one could be on the whole thing. I didn’t really want to tell any of my other friends about my financial faux pas of providing my mother-in-law with the bulk of my insurance settlement money. Then I realized Jackie knew about the money issues. She might be just the sounding board I needed.
Twenty minutes later, Jackie called my cell to let me know she was outside the office. I wasn’t sure if it was her idea, Volt’s, or Cal’s, but she was insistent that I not go to lunch driving Cal’s car. She had suggested Copeland’s New Orleans restaurant, and I immediately agreed. In an effort to beat the lunch rush, we sat at the bar to eat, and I unloaded about my mother-in-law visiting the office.
Jackie had a forkful of red beans and rice half way to her mouth when she asked, “Is she out of her mind?”
“I think she might be.”
I twirled my fork around some angel hair pasta before spearing a bite of crab cake to bring it to my mouth. The garlicky Alfredo sauce with the crab cake was heaven in my mouth.
Jackie swallowed a sip of diet soda and asked, “She really laid that guilt trip on you? Wow.”
“Yeah. Thanks for coming for lunch. I needed to offload this crap to somebody. I couldn’t even concentrate after I got back to my desk. God! I’m gonna be out all of next week. I need to try to get a jump on my workload. This is not the bullshit I need on my plate today. Sorry to bellyache.”
Jackie threw her hand out and let it bend at the wrist. “Forget about it, girlie. I haven’t decided what I’m doing with my time yet, now that I’m Volt’s old lady. We aren’t married yet, and I don’t know what kind of timeline he has for starting a family or if he even wants to do that. I should finish my degree at JU, but bikers can be more than a little demanding of your time. If you know what I mean.”
Shaking my head, I giggled. “I know what you mean, Jackie.”
Jackie took a huge bite of the garlic bread accompanying her red beans and rice. After she was done chewing, she asked, “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”
I gave her a regretful smile. “I’m taking Cal to Natasha’s for dinner.”
Jackie smacked the top of her chest with her free hand. “What? And you didn’t invite me and Volt?”
I tilted my head at her sympathetically, and added, “I need an unbiased man’s opinion. Okay, wait. Leon won’t really be unbiased, since he’s a man who’s devoutly on my side. Things seem to be moving so fast with Cal. And a fair amount of my life seems to be out of my control lately. It sounds weird to me to even hear myself say that. But from the moment Cal goaded me into trivia a few weeks back, it seems like he’s just barged in and started making or pushing decisions on me. Do you know what I mean?”
Jackie swallowed a gulp of her diet soda and said, “Completely. Volt did the same thing with me, if not worse. So damn pushy. It’s the biker way, though, when they see a woman they want to be their old lady.”
I gave Jackie a sideways glance. “Old lady? Seriously? There’s no way Cal’s thinking that. I mean he met me two-and-a-half weeks ago. That’s not enough time to decide if you want someone as your old lady. He hardly knows me. In fact, things could totally go to shit within the next week, since I should be full-on PMS mode sometime in the next five days and my period will be maybe two to three days after that. I just don’t understand why he’s being so pushy. He’s fucking gorgeous. He could have any woman he wants. Hell, given what I’ve heard about Vamp and stuff, he probably has had any woman he wants.”
I was shaking my head at my plate and felt Jackie’s hand on my forearm. “Honey. Maybe you missed it, but Sunday night, Abby mentioned how no woman’s been on the back of his bike. I know I drilled that home to you when we first met. Abby also mentioned, no other woman has been on his boat, unless she belongs to a brother. Seriously. He doesn’t let women onto his modes of transportation or into his house unless they have connections to Riot. You’re the first. My guess, you’re going to be the only. I’m not going to say he’s gone for you, but there’s something about the way he looks at you when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching.”
I blinked, and then asked, “What are you talking about? You can’t tell anything by how someone looks at someone else.”
Jackie looked at me as if I were dense. “Um, yeah. I can. Especially when it’s one of the brothers who is closest to my man we’re talking about. You can bet your ass I can tell when he looks at a woman with a determined glint in his eye. Let’s change the subject. What are you wearing to Bike Week?”
Oh shit! Holy hell. It was Tuesday. Cal wanted me ready to roll Saturday morning, and my feminine but biker-esque wardrobe was limited to exactly one sweater. For that matter, it was a sweater. There were no guarantees that Daytona weather would be mild, it could be balmy. I felt a clawing need to go shopping immediately. Maybe my boss, Sheila, would let me take Friday off too. I could feel my eyes getting big because my eyebrows seemed to be gliding toward my hairline, but I didn’t know how anxious I must have looked until Jackie spoke.
“Mallory. It’s okay. We’ll get you sorted. You got any old jeans you want to turn into cut-offs?”
I refrained from saying, not a chance in hell. Instead I took a deep breath and looked at her to say, “No. I do not. I was thinking I would wear jeans the entire time.”
Jackie laughed at me then she shook her head. “No, Mal. You gotta have a pair of shorts in your suitcase. It might be March, but at least one of the days will be warm enough for shorts. The best shorts for bike riding are cut-offs. Not just because if they get dirty or whatever you can pitch them, but also because they drive bikers wild. And I mean wild with a capital W. I wasn’t on board with that initially, myself. Too many visions of Daisy Duke in my mind and that damn hip-hop song about Daisy Dukes, but the rewards from wearing those short denim shorts are not to be denied.”
Well, hell. I didn’t want to discourage Jackie from sharing with me the variety of wardrobe advice she had to give, but we were finally at a point where I could ask her the numerous questions I had about the ‘Property’ cut that was worn by Old Ladies. I swallowed a huge gulp of my Sprite.
I leveled my gaze at her and launched in, “Okay, fine, I’ll pack shorts, but, look, I need to get the 4-1-1 on the whole property vest, cut business in general. I mean seriously, Cal can call me his woman, but I’m not his usual kind of woman. I can’t do this cut business. It’s Florida, for God’s sake. I’m not running around in the humid ninety-degree weather in May or any other month of the year wearing leather, even if it is a damn vest. Seriously, do you have to wear it all the time? Clearly you’re not wearing it now, but it’s just you and me. Every time you’re in public with Volt, do you have to don the leather?”
Jackie belly-laughed, and then shook her head at me. When she opened her eyes, she said, “No, no, I’m not wearing my cut right now, and you’re partly right. It’s because I’m not with Volt, but it’s also because I’m highly unlikely to get any attention from someone who won’t back off when I say I’m taken or not interested. That said, I wasn’t wearing it at Clark’s on Sunday either. Abby wasn’t wearing hers, but that may have had to do with her having been at work that day. Dunno. Each old lady and biker is a little different. All of Bike Week, though, I’ll be wearing my cut. Volt won’t let me go anywhere without it.”
I let out a breath. I was mulling over the ‘not letting her go anywhere without it’, and the notion of being forced to wear something like that for an entire week. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to ask her about this. For that matter, even if I knew what I wanted to ask, I wasn’t sure I would be able to ask it in a respectful manner.
I settled for the most pressing matter in my mind and asked, “So, you’re okay being labeled as ‘Property of Volt’? You don’t feel demeaned in some way?”
Jackie gave me a sympathetic tilt of her head and said, “No, Mallory, not at all. If anything it makes me feel like ‒more. I’m more than just Jackie. I’m someone who matters. I matter so much that Volt wants every single biker and anyone else to know that I’m his and his alone. Plus, wearing Volt’s cut shows that I support him and the club that means so much to him. It means a lot to these guys. Probably more meaningful than wedding rings. When you’re able to step back a bit mentally, you’ll realize that it also tells every other woman out there, that your man is taken. Seriously taken. I’m sure you know Cal is not a choirboy. I don’t know it for sure, but if he hooked up with some woman last year and she comes back looking for seconds, you wearing his property cut will notify her, in no uncertain terms, that seconds aren’t happening. End of. That said, it’s not likely you’ll be wearing a cut that quickly, but I hope that gives you a better perspective.”
I nodded. “It does. Thank you Jackie. I wanted to ask you all of this the night that we disposed of the rotten eggs, but uh, you know, I kinda got sidetracked.”
Jackie signaled for our checks, and then she said to me, “I know. Now, what are you wearing to Bike Week besides jeans and cut-offs? Do you need to borrow some of my clothes? Abby’s stuff might fit you too.”
I giggled. “I don’t need an excuse to shop. I’m planning to hit Adamec off of Baymeadows on my lunch hour tomorrow. I’ll pick up some cool tops, and hopefully be able to call it a day.”
Jackie gave me a considering look. “I’m not so sure a single trip to Adamec is going to allow you to ‘call it a day.’ But I’ll be sure to pack extra stuff so that you won’t feel out of place.”
The notion of packing extra stuff made me think of Natasha, so I said, “You know Tasha’s coming with me?”
Jackie smacked her hands together and held them together with a big grin on her face. “Shut up! You are not serious!”
“Totally serious. Next week is spring break, so, with Natasha being a teacher, she’s got the time off. Her mom is taking the boys, so Tasha said she’s coming with me.”
The bartender brought our checks, Jackie and I handed over our credit cards and he left to cash us out. Jackie turned to me and said, “Now, I know I’m packing extra. This is going to be brilliant!”
* * * * *
Cal was at my place when I got home from work around six. I had just enough time to wash my face and change clothes before we needed to leave for Tasha's place. Cal tried to give me another smoldering kiss hello that would lead to extracurricular activities, but tonight I managed to break free and tell him to cool it.
I gave him a semi-stern look and said, “I don’t do late, man. Let’s roll.”
Cal gave me a chin lift, and we left.
We pulled up next to an older model gold Nissan Sentra. When we got to the door, Natasha’s mother Elisa opened it before we could knock or ring the bell. She was in her sixties and had graying hair in beautiful curling rings about the size of quarters, stylishly arranged. Her glasses were rimless bifocals that made her mocha-hued eyes look larger than they actually were. She smiled a huge smile at me and said, “Oooh! My M.J.! I haven’t seen you in ages! How you doin’ girl?”
She took me into a quick but firm hug. When I stepped back, Cal asked, “MJ?”
Elisa gave him a glance and said, “Honey, yes! Mallory does a mean Michael Jackson foot-swing with the crotch-grab.”
I shook my head. “No, no. Miss Elise, don’t share all my secrets, besides that was a good fifteen years ago. M.J. is done.”
Miss Elise opened the door wider and said, “You are right about that. Now get on in here. I’m just waitin’ on little Nate to potty and get his shoes on, in that order. Then me and those two grandsons of mine are headed to Chuck E. Cheese, but don’t tell their momma that, hear?”
I stepped past Natasha’s mother and Cal followed, but as she closed the door, I heard a distinct throat clearing. I turned and Miss Elise said, “Um, Mallory. I know you haven’t forgotten your manners. Who is this young man with you?”
I smiled a sheepish smile and said, “This is Cal Robertson. Cal, this is Natasha’s mom, Elise Dunhill.”
Cal shook her hand, and she said, “It is nice to meet you, Mr. Robertson. You treat Mallory right, you hear? If you don’t, you won’t have to wait for her father or mother to show up. I’ll take care of you before they can even get out of their condo.”
Cal’s lips appeared to twitch in an upward stroke just once, and then he said, “I wouldn’t dream of treating Mallory anything but right. You can count on that.”
Miss Elise gave a firm nod at Cal, and we followed her into the kitchen, where Natasha and Leon were putting finishing touches on dinner.
Derek was slouched in a chair at the kitchen nook table. When his eyes lighted on Cal, he gave a little-boy scowl and asked, “Who are you?”
Natasha, who had her back to Derek while she stood at the stove, jerked her head around at warp speed and shouted, “Boy! Don’t be disrespectful. I taught you better than that. You apologize, and then you nicely ask Auntie Mallory to introduce you to the man she brought with her.”
Before Derek could open his mouth to apologize, I heard Cal say, “I’m Cal. And I’m glad to see Mallory has a number of different men in her life looking out for her. You got a strong protective instinct. That’s a good thing to see in a young man, but you also have to listen to your momma. Disrespect, intended or not, can get you into a heap of trouble if you aren’t careful.”
Leon had been cutting up some tomatoes and lettuce at the counter next to Natasha. He moved around the kitchen island to Cal with his hand extended.
“Leon Russell, and that’s my son Derek Russell.”
Cal nodded at both of them and said, “Cal Robertson.”
Leon let Cal’s hand go and said, “I’ve heard a little bit about you from my wife. I’m glad to hear you helped Mallory out with the problem she had a couple weeks back.”
I was standing next to Cal during this introduction, and he wrapped his left arm around me pulling me close. Then he said, “I’m just sorry to know somebody thought they could f-, uh, mess with Mallory in that way.”
I had a hard time not laughing at Cal keeping his language clean because Derek was in the room. I hadn't even thought about warning him that there were little people in the house and to refrain from cursing. It made me happy to know he could dial it back when he knew it was necessary. Suddenly the very top of my thigh was hit by something solid, and two little arms wrapped themselves around my leg.
I looked down to see Nate’s bright brown eyes smiling up at me, and he shouted, “Auntie Mallory! Did you bring ice cream this time? Say ye-esss, puh-lease!”
I shook my head at his five-year old enthusiasm for ice cream and his diligent pursuit of it from me. I looked back at him and stroked the top of his head with my left hand. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry, my man, but I did not have time to get ice cream for you today. Next time I’m here, I’ll bring ice cream. Pinky promise!”
I held out my left pinky to Nate; he took it with his pint-sized digit and we shook. Then his gaze shifted further up, then back to me, and his head tilted slightly to the right.
Nate put his hands on his hips and said, “I’m Nate, this is my Auntie Mallory. Why’s your arm around her?”
I tried to intervene first, but I got all of “Nate, honey” out before I felt Cal’s arm leave me. He squatted down and turned to face Nate.
I stepped back so the two were eye-to-eye, and Cal said, “I’m Cal. I’m a good friend of your Auntie Mallory.” I heard Natasha stifle a snicker, so I shot her a half-hearted glare before I turned back to watch Cal with Nate. He continued, “I like that you’re protective of her just like your big brother is. That’s a good way to be with the important women in your life, well, with any women in your life. They may say they don’t need to be protected, but I always say you can’t be too careful. Right?”
Nate gave a reluctant nod, and Cal added, “And you can never have too much ice cream. Am I right or am I right?”
To that Nate gave Cal an emphatic, “You’re right.”
I was amazed. Who would have thought that a badass biker type could fit in so quick and natural with two little boys he didn’t know? I certainly hadn’t thought it. There was warmth swirling in my mid-section and I realized that warmth was because I was not just pleasantly surprised, but also pleasantly pleased to find out that Cal Robertson could be so great with kids.
Any thoughts of ice cream were replaced by Chuck E. Cheese when Miss Elise came back in with Nate’s shoes. She announced their destination, and the boys quickly readied themselves for a night of pizza and arcade games. Once they were on their way, Leon asked Cal if he wanted a beer and the two of them went out to the patio.
I was watching the two men in the screened in enclosure and asked Natasha, “Leon isn’t giving him the third degree, is he?”
Natasha laughed. “I don’t think so. I told Leon I plan to leave him in solitude for Spring Break while I accompany you to Bike Week, so he’s got a dual agenda now.”
“You need any help? I’m guessing we’re having tacos tonight?”
“But, of course. It’s Tuesday isn’t it?”
Leon led Cal back into the kitchen. Leon put his beer down and leveled a serious gaze at me. “Girl. What are you thinking with this one?”
I gave him a confused look, and Leon explained, “He doesn’t root for just one college team. He likes the Big Ten, even now that they’ve added more teams so there’s not just ten anymore. And the real clincher is that he roots for any team but Florida. The only exception to that is if, or when, Florida plays Alabama. I can’t believe this guy, and based on that look on your face, I really can’t believe you didn’t know this about him already.”
I gave Cal an offended look and asked, “Is this true? You’re one of those fans? You despise my team of teams so much you root for any of our opponents?”
Cal raised a shoulder and lowered it, but then said, “Except Alabama. Roll roots for Alabama enough for me and all my brothers.”
“So that big guy got his name because he’s an Alabama fan? I thought it was because he could roll good joints or something about how he drives his bike.”
Cal just shook his head at me.
We were eating the last of our tacos when Cal looked at me and Natasha and said, “I wasn’t going to say anything about this, but I’ve had a distinct feeling since we got here, that there’s more to this visit than meets the eye. You gonna let me in on this, Mal?”
I was looking at Cal, but his gaze shifted to Natasha when she said, “What? You think there’s more to this than just you two joining us for taco Tuesday?”
Cal arched an eyebrow at her and said, “Your mother whisked those kids out of here within five minutes of us showing up. You better believe I think there’s more to this.”
Leon looked at his wife, and then said, “Honey, let’s not insult his intelligence. He may not be smart enough to root for the Gators, but he’s onto you two. Cal, Natasha wanted me to meet you on Mallory’s behalf. Plus, I was just informed yesterday evening that Natasha is going to Bike Week with Mallory, so I definitely wanted to meet the man they’d be spending their time with down there.”
Cal’s hazel eyes fixed on me. “I’m taking your girl with us too? When were you going to let me know this?”
I cleared my throat and said, “Uh, I would have last night, but you had stuff to do, and I forgot completely this morning.”
Leon asked, “This gonna be a problem?”
Cal looked to Leon and shook his head. “No. It’s not a problem. Natasha, you’ll need to be ready to go bright and early on Saturday morning.”
Natasha agreed, and a few minutes later she and I started clearing the table and washing the dishes. Once we were done, I noticed Cal’s demeanor had changed. He seemed a little tense, and as soon as I replaced the dishtowel I had been using, he said, “Mallory. We need to go, babe.”