Chapter NINE
FINN HADmanaged to get quite a bit done. He’d started to familiarize himself with the business, which meant a morning of meetings with Frank, who managed the workshop, and Stack, who managed the sales side of the operation. He spent the afternoon with the past year’s tax returns and spreadsheets showing the financial performance—the official performance, at least—of the business.Overall, Cummings Motorcycles—or CMC—was a very successful business.
Finn stood wearily. He worked on his neck, extending to each side to loosen the pull he always got when he spent too many hours hunched over the computer. Tightness in his neck and shoulders was something he was very familiar with. It reminded him of all the hours he’d put in studying, hoping to do well at uni, the first stepin forging a strong career path.Fat lot of good that did. I’m not exactly working my dream career here.The faint headache that niggled at his temples would fade when he got out of the office and into the fresh air. His back gave a satisfying crack as he twisted to get out the kinks. He couldn’t help the moan of satisfaction as his body got rid of the day’s tension.
“You looked like you enjoyedthat.”
“Shit!” Finn jumped and spun around to see Mitch leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Sorry.” Mitch grinned.Yeah, really sorry.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” Finn asked. He flexed his fingers, the tingle from the scare Mitch had given him fading—damn adrenaline rush.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? I’m the one at your beck and call, remember?” Mitch said. Finn studiedhim, expecting Mitch to be pissed off based on the comment he made, but Mitch was still smiling. Finn liked seeing the easy, relaxed version of Mitch, something he hadn’t seen in their earlier encounters. The man was sexy as all hell when he was serious, all strong-jawed masculinity and piercing gaze, but when he smiled, it caused something low in Finn’s belly to flutter.
He swallowed heavily,suddenly aware he hadn’t replied, and Mitch was looking at him with one eyebrow raised in question. “Ah, sure. Yeah. Just give me five to shut down here, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“I’ll wait out back, then.”
Mitch walked away, leaving Finn staring at the space where he’d just been standing. Butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach, partly due to his embarrassment at acting like a mumblingidiot, and now because of his apprehension about the ride home. All that time spent in close quarters with a guy he didn’t know, one who was on Rocky’s payroll and no doubt wasn’t a choir boy, no matter how much Peter vouched for him. Peter’s endorsement would be about the guy’s trustworthiness and his experience in conducting illegal business, not providing a testimonial that Mitch was a niceguy.
Finn shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused on getting out of the office, a place that felt like his prison. He exited each of the systems he’d been working in, making sure he fully logged out of everything before shutting down the computer. Rocky was a stickler for security and making sure nothing was left open and accessible should anyone, including staff, enter the office.
Once satisfied everything was secure, Finn grabbed his jacket and left the building.
The car Rocky had given him—or should that be Mitch?—was a Range Rover, not something Finn would have expected. Mitch lounged on the driver’s-side door, dragging on a cigarette as he looked around the parking area, but he straightened on Finn’s approach. He dropped the cigarette and ground the butt with his heelbefore taking a step. For a minute Finn thought he was going to walk around the car to open his door. Finn held up a palm, and Mitch stopped, instead turning and unlocking the vehicle with a click of the fob.
Once buckled in, they exited into peak-hour traffic, joining the lines of cars heading out of the city toward the west. Yes, it was going to be a long trip.
“Nice car,” Finn finally saidto break the silence that had become uncomfortable, at least as far as he was concerned.
“Yeah, she’s okay to drive.”
“So have you done much driving?”
“Since I was old enough to get my license.” Mitch chuckled.
Finn shot him a scowl. “You know what I mean.”
Mitch glanced at him, the smile still on his face. “Oh, you meandriving, driving. Yeah, I’ve done a bit. Security is my area of expertise,and driving comes par for the course.”
“You’re a bodyguard?”
“Not specifically. I’ve done personal security but also ensured security and safe transit of goods.”
Finn could read into exactly what Mitch really meant—drug trafficking.Great! I have a drug-trafficking bodyguard to chauffeur me around.
“What do you do?” Mitch asked as he inched the car forward in the traffic.
“I thought my brotherwould have told you.”
“Rocky just said you work on the business side of things. I assumed that meant the accounts or administration or something like that.”
Finn sank down into the leather seat. He rubbed at his temple, where the dull ache still reminded him of its presence. “I’ve just finished uni. This is my first job except for some part-time work while I was studying.”
“What did you study?”
“Financial accounting and business management.”
