Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Charly shrugged. “Magic.”
“No, Charly, how did you do this?” I studied her face, noticing the shadows under her eyes. “Were you up all night working on this?” I had been busy packing and getting organized. Charly had carried her things to her room down the hall and her door was shut when I looked before retiring, so I’d assumed she was in bed. She must have been working on this in the office.
“Yeah. Honest, Maxx. It was easy peasy. I know it’s not a PowerPoint or anything, but maybe they can hook it up to a larger screen, and you can just scroll through the photos if you want.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was an incredible, thoughtful thing for her to do. I had planned on grabbing the memory card from my camera and trying to figure something out once I got there, and now I didn’t have to.
“Thank you, Charly,” I said simply. “You’re the best.”
“Well, will you look at that? The man has manners.”
I chuckled.
She handed me some coffee. “You’re welcome.”
“Go back to bed.”
“Nope. I have a busy week ahead of me.”
“What do you have planned?”
“I don’t want to tell you, but I think you’ll like it.”
Not being told her plans should have made me nervous, but it didn’t. Charly was a different breed of woman, and I trusted her. It surprised me since I never thought I would trust another woman again, but with her, I knew my faith wasn’t misplaced.
“Maxx, can I, ah, have like a hundred dollars for, ah, stuff?”
“Stuff?” I teased. “Business stuff or personal stuff?” Then I smacked my head in realization. “I need to pay you. You must need cash.”
“I’m okay until you get back, but I need some money to make a few little changes.”
“Doesn’t sound like much to keep you busy for a week.”
“I can make a buck go far,” she retorted.
“There is two hundred in petty cash in the bottom of the file cabinet. I need receipts.”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
I dug in my pocket and handed her another two hundred. “Here’s an advance.”
She hesitated.
“Charly, I told you if you did your job, you would get paid. You’ve outdone yourself. Take it.”
She took the money, slipping it into her pocket.
I glanced at my watch. “I have to go.”
She jumped up, suddenly looking upset. She wrung her hands in an oddly nervous gesture for her. “Okay. Travel safe. You have your passport?”
“Yes.”
She prattled on, waving her hands in the air, looking like a little redheaded bird flapping its wings. “Don’t take rides from strangers, okay? Avoid the sun and the desert. Did you pack sunscreen? Do you have your credit card? Flight information? Did you pack clean underwear?”
I gaped at her strange behavior. “Yes to all but the last one.”
“You didn’t pack underwear?”
I shook my head slowly, enjoying the flush of color that rushed to her cheeks. “Nope, going commando all week.” I bent and brushed a kiss on her warm skin. “Think of that while you’re dipping into the petty cash and causing havoc.”
She stilled, and I winked at her as I bent and grabbed my duffle bag. “See you in a week, Charly.”
“Maxx…”
I paused at the door. “Yeah?”
“I’ll be right here, waiting.”
I cocked my head, her words sinking in. She looked tired, worried, and altogether too sexy standing in my kitchen, saying goodbye. Reassuring me. Exhausted because she had been awake most of the night doing something to help me. I had to fight the impulse to walk back to her and kiss her senseless.
“Good to know.”
LA was hot. So fucking hot, I hated leaving the air-conditioned coolness of the hotel. It was loud and crowded, the roads clogged with congestion, and the sidewalks overrun with people.
The convention was massive. People came from all over for it. I got to meet other presenters, talk about motorcycles and restorations. It was great to converse with bike enthusiasts, exchange ideas with fellow restoration specialists, some of whom I had long admired. I wandered around the vast convention center, looking at bikes, parts, and new machines I itched to purchase for the shop. My lectures went well, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed giving them.
Surprisingly, the only fly in the ointment was the women. Charly had been right when she’d said there would be a lot of them around. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, but for some reason, the advances I received made me uncomfortable. Some were friendly and wanted to talk motorcycles, discuss ideas they had for their rides—others, not so much. There was just one thing on their mind, and they weren’t getting it from me. For a couple of them, that seemed only to spur them on, and nothing I did, short of telling them where to go, seemed to dissuade them. In fact, it only seemed to encourage them, as if getting me in bed was a challenge.