"No, thanks," I say again.
"You're seriously telling me that you haven't had sex with a woman in five years, and you're turningthisdown?"
She grabs a hold of her tits and holds them high.
"I don't like to mix business with pleasure."
"Your loss," she says angrily.
It's obvious that Savannah is not used to a man telling her no, but I need to make Nate feel as if he can trust me. Breaking one of the only rules that he gave me would be idiotic. Not to mention that she smells like a pack of Marlboros once you get within three feet of her.
I'm taking a closer look at one of the kick-ass, pre-owned bikes on the floor, a Heritage Softail Classic, when I hear the bells jingle on the front door. It's a woman. She's by herself. And if I had to guess, she's probably in her early forties.
She's in pretty good shape. Nice rack. Decent face. Hell, every woman looks like a chicken dinner to me since I haven't had any real ass in a very long time. I definitely am going to have to go to a bar and get myself laid after work to take the edge off.
Savannah motions for me to come over. She seems to be relishing her role of trainer and my lord and master now that I've established that I won't be fucking her.
"We get a lot of women in here. Some are lookie-loos. Some are here to really buy. It's our job to figure out what kind of woman they are and give them what they need." I nod in understanding. "I know that I'm sales, and this is your first day, but the way that she's eyeballing you tells me that you may have a better chance of making the sale. If you succeed, you get a twenty-five percent commission. You don't want to get stuck answering phones all day in this place. You'll never make any money."
"I don't know shit about the bikes," I say in protest. Not really feeling like being thrown into the deep end so quickly.
"Doesn't matter. She doesn't know anything either. I can tell. Just try it. Oh, and put on this shirt. I found one in the back that should fit you."
The two things that you get to do in prison all day, every day, are read and work out. Since reading is like kryptonite for me, I decided to pass my time working out. I lifted weights every day, did push-ups, pull-ups and sit-ups. Needless to say, I'm ripped now. Since I'm stuck with this job, I might as well use this to my advantage.
That's why I strip from the waist up for everyone in the showroom to see, pick up my new shirt (which is a sleeveless black tee with the Harley-Davidson logo on the front and the Carter logo on the back) and walk over to the woman who just walked in and looks like she wants to sit on my face. I tuck the shirt into my waistband as I approach. Giving her a minute to gawk at my six-pack, before I put it on.
"Need help?"
She blushes.
"Umm, I'm just looking today."
"Do you know how to ride?" I ask not knowing what else to say at this point.
"Yes, I definitely do."
"Well, feel free to look around. We've got both new and pre-used bikes available and decent financing options."
Savannah sticks her thumb up from across the room in approval.
"Thanks, um, I didn't catch your name." The corner of her mouth curves up slightly.
"Stone."
"Nice to meet you, Stone."
"Likewise."
The bells hanging on the door ring again and my eyes fly up. I want to yank those damn things off of the door. All these random bells going off every other minute are making me jumpy. Plus, I don't really feel like dealing with another lookie-loo. I'm not a big talker or bullshitter. I'm a straight shooter. And there's no way that I'm going to talk someone into spending thousands of dollars that they don't have.
But it's not a lookie-loo.
She's definitely a looker though.
It's Ariana.
Dressed in a simple black sweater and tight jeans with rips in the thighs, she looks like a goddess to me.
