Daisy didn’t like working past-due accounts. She could almost feel her blood pressure rising as she lifted the next stack of delinquents from her drawer. Whenever she brought up the subject of hiring a collection firm to do “the dirty work” as she liked to call it, Dirk would have no part of it. He always gave the same answer, “Why should I pay some over-priced A-hole to do a job when you can do it.” With profits continuing to dwindle, any change in the shop’s accounting system would be an expense they just couldn’t afford. She wouldn’t dare bring it up to Dirk now.
Daisy scanned the stack of invoices lying on her desk in front of her. She grabbed one off the top and carefully read it over to be certain she had the details correct and then lifted the office phone and punched in the number.
“Hello, James?”
“Yes.”
“This is Daisy over at The Cycle Shop.”
“Sure, Daisy, what can I do for you?”
“Well, it seems as though your repair bill on your’04 Harley is now more than ninety days past due. We are just about to turn this account over to our repo department for pick-up. I’m calling to give you a chance to bring your account current before I have to do that.”
“I’ve…uh, been out of work for over six months and the unemployment I’ve been getting is barely enough to pay the rent and put a little grub on the table. It’s been tough around here. I’m really not able to pay anything right now.”
“So, you were out of work when you brought your bike in?”
“Well, I have to have my bike, it’s my only form of transportation If I don’t have my bike, I can’t look for work.”
Daisy frowned. “How were you planning on paying for your repairs back then?”
“I had a little money put back for emergencies and I was planning on using that, but then I got a nasty letter from the electric company saying I owed them over four hundred dollars, and there went my extra cash.” He chuckled nervously. “You can’t live in the dark, ya know.”
Daisy had heard such stories a hundred times before, and as usual, she was losing her patience. They all had some reason why they could pay everyone else but her.
She took a deep breath and went on, “Sounds like your motorcycle is very important to you.”
“Yeah, it sure it is.”
“You owe us over six hundred dollars, Mr. Hall, and if it is not paid by the end of this month we WILL repo your motorcycle. Do you understand?”
There was quiet on the other end and then the obviously annoyed customer replied, “You can’t do that. I have to have my bike.”
“I understand, James, but we have to have our bills paid or we will go out of business. We are a small shop and we can’t afford to fix people’s motorcycles for free.”
“This is bullshit!”
“You can call it whatever you want, but your time has run out. Either pay up by the thirtieth or we’re coming to get your bike.”
“Who’s coming?”
“The boss and a couple of guys.” Dirk wouldn’t dream of doing a repo. He couldn’t be bothered with such things, but the customers had all heard stories about Dirk and his legendary temper and they didn’t want him paying them a visit. Daisy understood this so she referenced the boss as part of the repo team whenever possible. The results of her little con game had been impressive. Their recovery rate improved by about thirty percent when she mentioned Dirk. She hoped it worked this time.
Daisy could barely make out the fellow’s reply, he was obviously aware of Dirk’s reputation. “I have a brother-in-law that’s helped me out from time to time. Maybe he can loan me the cash.”
“Remember, James, you only have until the end of the month.”
“I hear ya.” The phone clicked dead.
Daisy stared at her now silent phone for a moment and dropped it back on the base. “What a job. And for ten bucks an hour,” she groused. She spun around and was surprised to see Dirk standing by the door to the garage.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“James Hall.”
“He hasn’t paid yet?”
“Nope.”
“Why the hell not?”
“He says he’s out of work.”
“Tough shit, a lot of people are out of work.”
Daisy sighed, “I know, boss, that’s why our bottom line stinks.”
Dirk grimaced, “How bad does it stink?”
“Like a skunk. We’ve got several bank loans we can’t pay and our light bill is thirty days past due. Our customers aren’t paying us and the bankers are on our ass. If things don’t turn around soon, and I don’t think they will, we are going to face some tough decisions around here.”
“Sons-a-bitches! I see our customers out drinking all of the time. They got plenty of money for booze!”
“Yeah, I know.”
Dirk shook his head and ducked in the small restroom just off the office area to wash up. He left the door open and shouted out at Daisy. “I’m meeting somebody for lunch over at Burger King. Kind of keep an eye on things, okay?”
“Sure, no problem.”
Dirk ripped a couple of paper towels from the machine and stepped out of the washroom still drying his hands. “I’ll be back around eleven thirty.” He stepped back in the washroom and tossed the paper towels in the wastebasket and squirted on some aftershave from a little bottle he kept on the back of the sink. As he stepped out of the wash room, the strong aroma of the aftershave permeated the stale office air.
Daisy smiled, “Reg tells me you had a good time the other night. Said you were hitting on some rich old babe over at The Villages.”
“Reg talks too much.”
“Is it true?”
“Yeah, and she’s digging me.”
“Be careful, boss. You’re a little out of your league there.”
Dirk tossed an exasperated look at his loyal secretary. “Daisy, honey, if there’s one thing we all know, it’s that Dirk Harrison can take care of himself. Maybe this bitch is out of HER league!” He lifted a small comb from his back pocket, ran it through his shiny, black hair and headed for the front door.
“I gotta go, I’m meeting someone for lunch.”
“I know; you just told me. Watch your manners. Sounds like she’s a lady.”
“Smart ass!”
Dirk hurried out and jumped aboard his Harley low-rider. He rose high in the seat and slammed down on the kick start. The big engine belched to a start. He pumped the accelerator several times as he pushed his bike backward. He kicked it into gear and did a wheelie through the driveway onto highway 27. A chill ran up his spine at the thought of having an affair with someone like Cathy Roberts. His libido was in high gear as he twisted the accelerator and gunned his powerful motorcycle down the busy highway.
Dirk looked down at the concrete whizzing past him on the street below. It brought back memories of his childhood days, riding on the back of his father’s old Harley and looking down at the road. He remembered the smell of his dad’s leather vest just inches from his face. But most of all, he remembered the pain he felt in his stomach and ribs every time the old Harley hit a bump in the road. His father was a mess of a man, severely depressed and a hopeless alcoholic. Never able to please his brute of a father, Dirk heard time and time again as a child what a failure he was and how he would never amount to anything. He could still feel the punishing blows from his father’s huge fist bashing into his chest and ribs during his father’s drunken late night visits to his bedroom in the basement of the run-down dump they called home.
The physical and mental abuse he suffered at the hands of his father caused Dirk to feel a sense of doom inside. It was a constant battle for him to keep from drowning in a sea of despair. He had tried drugs and alcohol and prescription drugs-anything to ease the pain-but those remedies never helped for very long. The only time Dirk really felt good inside was when he was beating someone senseless. His father had turned him into a monster of a man whose only feelings of happiness came when he was inflicting pain on someone else. As a result of his tortured upbringing, Dirk didn’t trust people. He was suspicious of their motives and annoyed by their behavior. Particularly, those people he perceived to have money-people like Cathy Roberts.
Blessed with rugged good looks, he knew his chances for an affair with the philandering Mrs. Roberts would be pretty good, but even a thick-skulled guy like Dirk knew the score. The girls he had taken up with in the past were waitresses and factory workers who couldn’t afford to take him to court for his beatings and verbal abuse. This lady was much different. If he ever became violent with her, he would have hell to pay and he knew it. He would have to watch his behavior with this one; he would have to keep his violent side in check. It was with this in mind, and his hormones on high alert, that Dirk leaned left and sped into the La Plaza Grande shopping center for his meeting with Cathy Roberts.
* * * * * *
Cathy took a sip of her coffee and lifted the local newspaper off the table and attempted to calm her nerves by reading for a while, but she had difficulty concentrating. Her previous night’s love-making with tennis partner, Eric, and the unnerving phone call from this biker guy, Dirk, were making her life very complicated. On top of everything else, she hadn’t slept well last night-she was tired and anxious.
Unable to concentrate, she tossed the newspaper on the table and took another sip of coffee. She glanced at the clock on the opposite wall, it read 10:55. He would be here soon.
At first, she was horrified at the thought of this lowlife coming into her charmed world, but after weighing the pros and cons she had devised a way to use this situation to her advantage. Cold and calculating, she had a proposition of her own for the aggressive Mr. Harrison-one that she hoped could benefit both of them. It was a gamble, but one that she wanted to take.
She heard a chugging motorcycle pull to a stop outside the restaurant. She peered through the window and saw a man dismounting his motorcycle. He looked taller than she remembered, but the ugly tattoo of a bloody dagger on his right arm was unmistakable. That’s something you don’t forget! She watched him push through the door and scan the restaurant looking for her. She smiled and lifted her hand ever so slightly to draw his attention.
Dirk nodded and then strolled awkwardly over to her corner table. He paused next to her table with his hands stuffed his front jean pockets. “So, we meet again,” he said sarcastically.
She nodded. She was surprised by his appearance. Still sporting a morning shadow below his tired, glassy eyes, he looked rougher, edgier than she remembered.
“Please, sit down.”
Dirk slid into the booth across from her.
There was lengthy silence with Cathy finally breaking the ice. “Nice motorcycle.”
Dirk stared for a moment at the beautifully made-up, nattily dressed lady and then grunted, “It’s all right, it gets me around.”
The tension at the table was thick. Two people from totally different worlds were meeting to discuss a threat made on the weakest of pretenses after a short chat at a local bar the night before. Initially, it all seemed so absurd to Cathy, but after much thought, she now saw an opportunity in this inane meeting. She wasted no time in setting the agenda. “I believe you said you owned a cycle shop the other night at Cody’s.”
“Yeah, I got a bike shop. So what?”
“How’s business?”
Dirk squirmed in his seat; the question hit a nerve. “Not worth a damn.”
Cathy nodded slightly as if acknowledging that Dirk’s answer was just what she had expected. “Profits down?”
“What profits?” he shook his head.
She looked into his pale blue eyes. They looked cold and empty and cruel-just as she had hoped.
She went on, “I heard on the news this morning that this recession could last another year or two. It’s getting kind of scary.”
Dirk suddenly jerked up in his seat, his elbows hit the table, his face was only inches from hers. “Listen, lady, we didn’t come here to discuss the economy. So cut the BS.”
Cathy didn’t flinch; she moved her face even closer to his and whispered, “Tell me Mr….Uh”
“Harrison, H-a-r-r-i-s-o-n, Harrison!”
“Tell me, Mr. Harrison, just what did we come here to discuss?” Cathy was icily still. She loved it when men tried to intimidate her.
His thin lips turned up in a cruel smile. “I gotta give it to you, lady, you’re not the least bit afraid of me. You rich broads are gutsier than I thought.”
Cathy was undeterred, “Answer my question.”
“You know why we’re here, bitch, so quit acting dumb! I want one thing from you, pretty lady, and you know what it is.”
A broad smile broke out on Cathy’s face, “Oh yes, I either put out or you’re going to tell my husband that my tennis partner laid me in Duval last evening. How frightening!”
Dirk broke eye contact, his face flushed red, “Why you mouthy…..”
Cathy immediately interrupted the nasty tough, “Better think of a new plan, Mr. Harrison. I’ve already told my husband that my tennis partner went to the house in Duval last evening. The garage door was broken and my tennis partner was nice enough to fix it for me. My husband actually called and thanked him today.” Cathy felt smug. She was so good at telling lies that she actually surprised herself at times.
Dirk fell back and dropped his hands to his side. He looked somber and confused. Cathy had him back on his heels and he knew it. He was speechless. It was all Cathy could do to refrain from laughing at the dour, defeated looking Dirk. But, feeling it necessary to ease the increasing tension, she smiled warmly and continued. “I hope I haven’t offended you, Mr. Harrison, because there is something I would like to talk to you about.”
Dirk’s expression didn’t change.
“You said your business has not been good and your profits are down. Maybe I can help you with that.”
Dirk looked dubious; he shook his head, “What could some fancy broad like you possibly do for me?”
Cathy clasped her hands together and squeezed tightly, this was the nervous part. What would he think? How would he react when she told him what she had in mind for him? She took a deep breath and went on, “I need something done for me and I’m willing to pay quite handsomely for it.”
“Handsomely, what’s that mean?”
Cathy paused as if trying to determine whether to tell him the amount or not. She finally decided it would be best to tell him. “It means a hundred thousand dollars, Mr. Harrison.”
Dirk’s brow lifted, his expression softened. “That’s a lot of bread, lady.”
“I know.”
“You have someone you want me to rough up. Is that it? That’s all a rich bitch like you could want from a guy like me.” He smiled and tipped his head back, certain he had figured things out.
“Well, not exactly.” Cathy looked at her watch. “Do you have time? You told me that you could only take a half-hour for our meeting, and my watch says twenty-five after.”
“Daisy’s watching the office, I got time.”
“Good, let’s talk.”