My mind goes back to my stupid comment last night. Up until that point, it felt like King was finally coming around. I have no way of knowing if my offhand remark has set us back.
“If we get this deal, I think so.”
“Well, we better go schmooze the shit out of him,” he grins like a shark, showing a lot of teeth.
Despite the attitude, Talon is a charmer and not only with women. He’s level-headed and understands business better than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m feeling positive about this and with the sex releasing a lot of tension and endorphins last night, I don’t see how anything can go wrong.
The ride over to Newark doesn’t take that long but I’m getting antsy. I hate not knowing what is going on with my bike. Again. Scrolling through my phone I find Handlebar’s number and fire off a text. Surprisingly he replies straight away.
Handlebar:
You can pick it up tomorrow. Had to replace the pedal so it’ll cost more
I don’t give a shit how much it costs, I just want the damn thing back.
Mace:
I’ll be by in the afternoon
He doesn’t reply.
“That the woman you were banging last night?”
I glare at Talon, and he grins back at me. Nosey prick. He doesn’t push it though, just whistles along to the Motley Crue song on the radio.
I stare out of the window ignoring him as he starts to sing instead and try to get into the mindset of dealing with this guy. All the while trying to keep thoughts of CassiegoddamnBeillo out of my head.
Bernard Singer is the kind of shrewd you don’t come across very often. He’s wary but hides it well. His offices are on the busier, more congested side of the Port. You would think that made his operation open to more scrutiny but from what I’ve seen, Singer blends in better than he would in one of the quieter docks. Makes it easier to keep a low profile. He deals a lot with containers on the green lane which has fewer inspections when ships arrive.
He’s got a good set up here.
“I’ve kept a low profile for the last fifteen years,” he says, sitting across from us in his plush office.
It’s not what I expected, given the noise, smells and shabby appearance of the building from the outside. It’s all modern and sleek and although he’s dressed down in jeans and a buttoned up shirt, they’re all designer labels.
He even has the hot receptionist who greeted us and eyed me up and down like a tasty treat before being charmed by Talon’s smile.
“And you don’t think we can do that?”
“A motorcycle club isn’t exactly discrete,” he replies. “I already have an agreement with the people you’re working with.”
He did his homework too after we asked for this meeting. That’s a good thing. It means he’s careful.
“There was a situation last year,” Singer leans back and puts his elbows on the arms of the ergonomic leather chair. “It got messy.”
“It got dealt with, quietly.”
“I have a unit at that warehouse.”
Shit. I don’t let him see my thoughts racing. The Devil’s Chaos had blown up one of the Kingsmen’s warehouses. Singer has kept this close to his chest.
I don’t believe anything is insurmountable. Singer likes money and we have a lot to give.
“That was an unfortunate situation, but it’s over and it was dealt with quickly and with minimal law enforcement involvement.”
Singer switches his attention to Talon. We’re both wearing our cuts and Singer had clocked who we are. He hasn’t deferred to me over Talon though.
“What about the O’Connell’s? We stay out of each other’s way, but we have similar interests on our respective sides of the port.”
