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“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I ask.
Tanzie giggles as she pulls her hair into some fancy braided style that my daughter will think makes her look like a princess. “Is that a real question?”
“Sure,” I ask.
“You first,” she non-answers. “You didn’t grow up wanting to be a motorcycle club president, did you?”
“Ha, no,” I say. “When I was little I wanted to be a firefighter. I think all little boys do. As I got older, I thought I might leave, go work on Wall Street. Make a million bucks.”
“Well, you’ve definitely made a million bucks,” she says.
“At a big cost,” I answer, my mood souring.
“This is a dangerous business,” she agrees. “But you built something good here. And you’re doing the right thing. My dad is a good man. He won’t let you down.”
I nod. “I think you’re right. I hope you’re right.”
“I wanted to be a popstar,” she says, lightening the subject once more. “When I was little. Like one of those Disney people. Demi Lovato or Vanessa Hudgens or whatever.”
“Can you sing?” I ask.
“Not to save my life,” she laughs. “I actually went to college, did you know that? My degree is in communication, but it’s not that exciting.”
“I did not know that,” I say, grinning. “A college girl. I think I’m in love. Although I do think you’re a good communicator. What would you rather do instead?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” she says. “I really like to work out, and I know lots of the guys at GR say their old ladies wish they were in shape like me. I was thinking I might like to be a personal trainer. Is that cheesy?”
“Not at all,” I answer. “I think it’s a great goal. And maybe, with my head for business, we could even set you up a gym or something.”
She looks giddy as we daydream. God, it’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself this luxury. I really can see setting up a gym in the territory. I can run the business side; she can be a personal trainer, maybe help with the marketing. I like it.
Once she’s ready—looking delicious in a white sundress that makes her tan look dark and her legs look nine-miles long – we head out to meet her father for lunch at Blazing Pistons’ headquarters. We’re having lunch. I wore a suit jacket instead of my colors and I feel like a tool.
It’s so awkward at first. Her dad looks at her finger about a million times, a silent question as to why a baller like me hasn’t gotten his lady a ring since we’re supposedly married after knowing each other all of a week and a half. He’s no dummy, Drew. He knows she lied; I’m sure of it.
He can’t do anything about it, of course. Kit is gone and from what Tanzie has told me, he didn’t groom anyone to take his place. It makes me feel a little better, actually. I suffered the same issue with Spree, kept him around because there was no one to fill the void. I felt real stupid because of it, too, so to hear that Drew made the same mistake makes me feel a little less like an asshole. Bottom line is he needs me, as much as I need him.
We make small talk before we finally get to the meat of the conversation. The negotiation. How will we merge these two clubs?
I explain the reaction of my members. “Most of them get that this is the best for all of us,” I explain. “But they value their colors, their name. They value the work we’ve done, and they like the house. I like the house. I designed it.”
“The house is nice, a good asset, I agree. And it belongs to you,” Drew concedes. And, as suspected, he says, “It’s valuable to have a second property for the clubs, on the opposite end of the territory we’ll share.”
His choice of words is interesting. Share.
“A third of my guys might defect,” I continue with a shrug. “They’re cowboys, ready to shoot it out. But the other two-thirds don’t have a death wish. We talked about it for a long time and I gave them a vote. The larger two-thirds want peace, so we’re coming.”
Drew bangs his hand on the table, making the cutlery bang together loudly. “Smart move. And the dissenters will either get with the program or leave. It’s their prerogative. No penalty for defection.”
We finish lunch with a plan that I feel good about. Drew claps me on the back as we leave, calling me “son” and telling me he’ll have paperwork sent over for review in the next few days. “We’ll have a party,” he announces. “A real blowout. Pop a bottle over your nuptials and our merger. It’s a fuckin’ celebration.”
I take Tanzie’s hand as we head out, thanking him. She squeezes, knowing just how much I hate this one remaining lie.
We get on my bike and rumble over to the edge of the territory, where Cary waits for Shannon to get off the bus.
Step one of this day is complete. Now comes the battle with my sister.
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