TRAILING TRISHA - A Black Hounds Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fox and the Hounds Book #2) (9 page)

Out of the blue, they had received a call from, Sam Maynard, the lead blogger on Automaniacs. It was the equivalent of the editor in chief in most traditional journalistic circles. Nevertheless, he requested an interview and assistance on their article on the motorcycles industry and the Black Hounds. Interestingly enough, Sam wanted to talk to Trisha as well as him. Dante had asked Lucia why the company had agreed to such terms. Like always, her sister’s answer was simple and to the point. “You want to set the story straight on our terms or do you want them to poke around and dig up dirt on your whirlwind romance with her? Remember they have a hundred million pairs of eyeballs reading their articles every month.”

Dante didn’t like to be reminded of the falseness of his engagement but his sister was right. Their company was no longer a blip on the radar. It wasn’t even an oddity. They were a major player in the business with all the perks and pains that came with it. He figured that they would, at best, be a small paragraph in some puff piece about the motorcycle industry.

The important thing was to control the narrative. He needed to show that he was a mature, responsible man leading a mature, responsible company. The young needed to satisfy them without alerting them to the true nature of his relationship with his fiancée.

The biker turned CEO didn’t worry too much. Trisha was on the fast-track to becoming a pro at public relations. She was funny when comedy was needed and humble when the media called for humility. The press loved the Cinderella story of the hardworking farm girl turned paramour.

A part of it scared him. She was so naturally gifted at winning the hearts of people. Was it just a part of her nature or were her feelings or him just as much of a show?

The time they spent together had been the best days of his life. The days of media blitzing with Trisha were the vegetables to the dessert he enjoyed in bed with her. And damn it, he was beginning to enjoy his vegetables as well. He treasured every minute with her. There wasn’t any point on dwelling on it when there was work to be done.

He and Trisha exited the car and entered the restaurant. The place wasn’t a three Michelin star establishment but it wasn’t a slouch either. The Spanish-Korean fusion restaurant may not have much appeal to mainstream critics not have but it got Dante’s vote. More importantly, they could arrange a private table for him with no prying eyes. It should’ve been a fairly ordinary interview.

Except that Uncle Cass was already there speaking to him.

“I tell you, Mr. Maynard, these kids are really something,” his uncle laughed, before turning to face the new arrivals. He wore a dinner jacket over his biker clothes. It was the minimum dress requirement for the restaurant and he just met it. “Why… if it isn’t my nephew and his blushing bride to be!”

Playing it by the ear, Dante gave him a terse hug. “Uncle, what are you doing here?”

Sipping his tea, Sam Maynard answered with a half-smile. His phone ran a program which recorded the conversation which wasn’t unusual for these types of meetings. “He graciously provided me an oral history of your Motorcycle Club’s early years. And told me that I am in no circumstances to act nothing short of a gentleman to your lovely fiancée.”

Trisha shot Dante a glance before following suit. “It’s good see you, Uncle Cass.”

The older man took in his nephew’s fake fiancée for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Come here, sweetheart. You look more radiant by the day!”

“I must say, I didn’t expect to meet with your Uncle,” Sam stated. The man didn’t look much older than Dante himself but he did have an air of professionalism. “It was quite an enlightening conversation.”

“Will you be joining us?” Dante asked, careful with his words. The cards were in Sam’s hands. “We’d reserved a table for three. We can pull up a seat and make it four.”

It would be better if he could keep Uncle Cass under his watch.

“I’d love to stay,” Uncle Cass said, swigging down a glass of wine. He got up and pushed his seat in. “But I’m here to loosen people up like a jar of pickles. It’s your show now, kid.”

Sam stood up to shake his hand. “A pleasure meeting you, Cassius.”

It was now the second time he had pulled a stunt like this.

“Your uncle is a very interesting man,” Sam said, lacing his fingers under his chin. The man was smart enough to know that Cass’s appearance hadn’t been a part of the schedule. “But first, would you like something to drink?”

Dante exchanged a look with Trisha before she answered. “Tea would be nice.”

“My liver’s not as strong as my uncle’s,” Dante joked, regaining his bearings. “Tea for me as well.”

The tension from Uncle Cass’s surprise visit went away over some nice Jasmine tea. Nevertheless, Dante feared not knowing what Cass had told Sam about the Black Hounds. Worse, he feared contradicting him.

However, most of Sam’s questions were about the company’s present rather than its troubled past. “I must say there was quite a mix up finding your company’s headquarters.”

Dante raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I know we’re transitioning to a new building but our headquarters is listed everywhere from our website to my business cards.”

“One of our junior researchers, a new hire, gave me the location of a little town named Ironville,” he replied. “It seems that it was your base of operations at one point or another.”

Dante chucked and. “Ah… Ironville. Yes, that was the original home for the Black Hounds.”

Sam nodded. “It explains the mix up.”

“Still, it was my home and that of Black Hounds. Although we maintain a club building in Ironville, we’ve largely moved our operations here since all of the big business deals happen here.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit Ironville,” Trisha muse before blushing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t let personal business mix with this.”

“Your business is my business,” Dante said, squeezing her hand. The two of them could use a break. Hell, so could Lucia. However, chances of a break were slim considering their packed schedule. “I’ll put it in the agenda.”

Sam leaned in with interest. “What made you move here?”

“We just couldn’t become a motorcycle company in Ironville,” Dante answered. “The town just couldn’t support a company of that size. We needed a location that would allow us to have access to business partners and talent. Admittedly, it’s a lot easier these days to run a major business from the middle of nowhere.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The whole world is a lot more globalized,” Dante began. These were Lucia’s words and ideas but he’d begun to believe them himself. It made him seem smarter than he deserved to sound like. “When we first started out, your success depended a lot on your location. Now, I can talk to the Japanese Minister of Transportation over a video conference in a shack in the middle of Wyoming. It’s not just the motorcycle industry. Business in general is going digital.”

Trisha chimed in. “You think we’ll all be doing business over the internet?”

“A business like yours is better off with the personal touch,” Dante chuckled. “Mine? It doesn’t really make a difference if the deal is made in Los Angeles, Tokyo, or cyberspace. With that said, it pays to talk over a nice cup of tea when trying to break the ice.”

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve come to talk to you,” Sam said, getting down to business. Dante had read the report on him. He was the Automaniacs motorcycle expert and had risen up to become their lead blogger. “I’m writing an exposé on rising stars in the automobile industry. Naturally, the Black Hounds is a common name when discussing such topics. However, so little is known about you.”

The biker turned CEO shrugged. “It comes with being a privately owned company.”

“You’ll be a publically traded company soon. In fact, investors have been eyeing your IPO for over a year. Even part time traders have been eyeing your company for months.”

Trisha said. “If you ask me, it’s like waiting for a baby. We keep talking about it but nothing happens!”

“Hey, that’ll be you one day!” Dante teased, which armed him a punch to the arm. He rubbed the area of impact in mock pain before returning to business. “Nonetheless, I’d like to keep my personal life separate from my business. If we proceed with this interview, you won’t probe into Trisha’s life. I’m the CEO of the Black Hounds Motorcycle Company. Not her. Is that clear?”

Trisha smiled at the ground ruled he had lain down. “Honestly, you should be talking to the other heads of the company. It might be Dante’s name at the top of the hierarchy but he doesn’t know how to run it!”

Dante resisted the urge to blow a raspberry at her. They could act like little kids when this was done. “Running a company is a group effort. The Black Hounds are run by a very talented business team.”

“Lucia, Dante’s sister, is his second in command,” Trisha added. “She’s also the professional grownup of the family.”

“Twenty some years and counting,” Dante continued with a smile. “Lucia handles everything money related. Not just budgeting or finances. She’s inked some of our biggest deals.”

Sam laced his fingers under his chin. “And your Uncle Cass? What does he do?”

Dante cursed to himself internally. He wanted to think long and hard about an answer but it would look bad if he delayed a response. “He’s there to remind us that we can learn from our past mistakes. And to bring a sense of tradition to the company.”

“Yes, he’s quite the born again Christian, your uncle,” Sam replied. If Dante had tripped up with his answer, Maynard didn’t show it. “Then again, you seem quite capable of showing someone the true Black Hounds experience.”

“Yes, I’m quite familiar with it,” Trisha said, finishing her tea. They had held off ordering food until introductions were over. “Booze, chicken wings, and a round of darts. What else would a girl want than grub and games with a gentleman?”

Dante corrected her. “Pool, not darts.”

Trisha rolled her eyes. “That’s only because Lucia kicked your butt at darts when you were a kid and you’ve sworn off if ever since.”

“No, I mean the real Black Hounds experience,” Sam said with a devious smile. It was his turn to tease the CEO. “We have an ex-girlfriend of yours working as an intern for us. She went to high school with you. She spoke highly of the Black Hounds experience. Her name was Margaret-”

Dante slapped his head in embarrassment. “Oh, Maggie Sears!”

“What’s this?” Trisha said in mock anger. “What’s this about the real Black Hounds experience? Have you been holding out on me, Dante?!”

“She worked as a part time mechanic at her father’s repair shop,” he said in half seriousness. For good measure, he held up his hands like a boxer on the defense. “We dated after I brought my motorcycle for checkup before re-registering it. Turned out she wanted to be with me to ride my motorcycle. She even had the nerve to say it was a part of the repair process!”

Trisha folded her arms. “It must’ve been a damn fine bike for her to ignore you.”

Dante shot a look at Sam. “This is strictly off the record!”

Sam didn’t stop smiling. “It goes without saying.”

The trio ordered lunch and began the interview. Sam’s phone got quite a workout recording everything. On occasion, the conversation would drift to Trisha. “So you’re saying one of the reasons private farms like yours are becoming the rarity is because the danger inherent to the business?”

“It’s not firefighting or Alaskan king crab fishing but farming can be dangerous work,” she readily admitted, digging into the very same crab for her salsa entree. It was all on the company dollar. “I make sure to take all the necessary precautions. I have medical and trauma kits every fifty square feet. I’ve also done some medical classes. But the stats show that it can be pretty dangerous, especially if you’re careless. And trust me, things can go south quickly on a farm if you’re not on top of your game. It’s why a lot of the kids in my town went to the city to get white collar jobs.”