TRACKING TRISHA - A Black Hounds Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fox and the Hounds Book #1) by Fiona Garland Page A
Authors: Fiona Garland
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the truth,” he shrugged. “Press statements don’t list my criminal record as a teenager.”
“It must be tough trying to put an act on all the time,” Trisha said. “Don’t you feel like… you’re stuck in an advertisement that doesn’t ever end?”
“Here, I’m just Dante,” he answered with a bittersweet smile. Even when talking to his sister, the man had to play the role of the CEO. “At least, that’s what I tell myself. The boys here see me as club president of the Black Hounds. At work, I’m a CEO. Whenever I enter our new office, I have to leave ‘Dante the club president’ at the door. I have to work towards a larger goal for the good of the Black Hounds. If a little privacy is the price of succeeding, then I’ll pay it.”
The farm girl looked at him and processed his words. Dante felt a kindred spirit with Trisha. It was easy to talk to her. There was a kindness in her that reminded him of his late mother. Even if she rejected the offer, he knew he desired her companionship.
“Dante, I accept.”
The biker nearly jolted up from his seat. “What?”
“I’ll be your mail order bride,” Trisha clarified with a blush. “Or girlfriend or fiancé or whatever I’m supposed to be.”
They were interrupted by a waitress delivering their drinks. Trisha gingerly sipped the capuchin. Dante’s drink, however, went untouched. He didn’t speak until the waitress was out of earshot. “Thank you, Trisha. Lucia had already written the game plan for what to do if you had accepted. Now, we just have to put it into play.”
“What do I have to do?”
“You have to sign a formal contract that binds you to our agreement,” Dante explained, writing a phone number and address on a napkin. He had a business card in his pocket but writing a note felt more natural to him. “We’ll make sure you have a lawyer to help you understand all the legalese of the deal. Could you meet us on next Saturday at this address? It’s Lucia’s place. Use this phone number to contact us if you have any questions. We can’t contact you through our regular phone lines.”
She nodded. “It should give me time to deal with the farm. I can make arrangements so it runs by itself in my absence. I bet the boys back at home will be excited we have a steady form on revenue… one way or the other.”
Finally, Dante raised his glass and met that of Trisha’s with a soft clink. “I could make an awful ‘you bet the farm on it’ pun but I’ll hold my tongue.”
Trisha smiled and drank a mouthful of her capuchin. “Just maybe… I’ll amend the contract and forbid bad farm puns. I get enough of that at work.”
“Talk about a ‘punishing’ amendment.”
They both had a good laugh at that awful pun.
“So how illegal is this exactly on a scale of one to ten?” Trisha asked the lawyer. This arrangement was a lot more complicated than buying insurance for her workers and farm equipment. “With one being fibbing on your tax return and ten being… well, Enron.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t legal,” the elderly man replied. “It’s the darkest shade of grey that isn’t entirely black. However, your small business is privately owned. It would be immaterial to your debtors. You are the only person who stands to lose if the true nature of this arrangement was to ever come out. It’s a different matter on Mr. Alastair’s end…”
“Lucia’s done her homework,” Dante replied, looking confident at his plan. “We’re in the clear since we’re still a privately owned company at this point. None of our business partners have a leg to stand on if they want to sue us. Going public won’t change the fact that people are legally investing in our products rather than in my personal life. If you made buying a girlfriend a crime, then you’ll have to lock up all of the CEOs in this
“It must be tough trying to put an act on all the time,” Trisha said. “Don’t you feel like… you’re stuck in an advertisement that doesn’t ever end?”
“Here, I’m just Dante,” he answered with a bittersweet smile. Even when talking to his sister, the man had to play the role of the CEO. “At least, that’s what I tell myself. The boys here see me as club president of the Black Hounds. At work, I’m a CEO. Whenever I enter our new office, I have to leave ‘Dante the club president’ at the door. I have to work towards a larger goal for the good of the Black Hounds. If a little privacy is the price of succeeding, then I’ll pay it.”
The farm girl looked at him and processed his words. Dante felt a kindred spirit with Trisha. It was easy to talk to her. There was a kindness in her that reminded him of his late mother. Even if she rejected the offer, he knew he desired her companionship.
“Dante, I accept.”
The biker nearly jolted up from his seat. “What?”
“I’ll be your mail order bride,” Trisha clarified with a blush. “Or girlfriend or fiancé or whatever I’m supposed to be.”
They were interrupted by a waitress delivering their drinks. Trisha gingerly sipped the capuchin. Dante’s drink, however, went untouched. He didn’t speak until the waitress was out of earshot. “Thank you, Trisha. Lucia had already written the game plan for what to do if you had accepted. Now, we just have to put it into play.”
“What do I have to do?”
“You have to sign a formal contract that binds you to our agreement,” Dante explained, writing a phone number and address on a napkin. He had a business card in his pocket but writing a note felt more natural to him. “We’ll make sure you have a lawyer to help you understand all the legalese of the deal. Could you meet us on next Saturday at this address? It’s Lucia’s place. Use this phone number to contact us if you have any questions. We can’t contact you through our regular phone lines.”
She nodded. “It should give me time to deal with the farm. I can make arrangements so it runs by itself in my absence. I bet the boys back at home will be excited we have a steady form on revenue… one way or the other.”
Finally, Dante raised his glass and met that of Trisha’s with a soft clink. “I could make an awful ‘you bet the farm on it’ pun but I’ll hold my tongue.”
Trisha smiled and drank a mouthful of her capuchin. “Just maybe… I’ll amend the contract and forbid bad farm puns. I get enough of that at work.”
“Talk about a ‘punishing’ amendment.”
They both had a good laugh at that awful pun.
“So how illegal is this exactly on a scale of one to ten?” Trisha asked the lawyer. This arrangement was a lot more complicated than buying insurance for her workers and farm equipment. “With one being fibbing on your tax return and ten being… well, Enron.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t legal,” the elderly man replied. “It’s the darkest shade of grey that isn’t entirely black. However, your small business is privately owned. It would be immaterial to your debtors. You are the only person who stands to lose if the true nature of this arrangement was to ever come out. It’s a different matter on Mr. Alastair’s end…”
“Lucia’s done her homework,” Dante replied, looking confident at his plan. “We’re in the clear since we’re still a privately owned company at this point. None of our business partners have a leg to stand on if they want to sue us. Going public won’t change the fact that people are legally investing in our products rather than in my personal life. If you made buying a girlfriend a crime, then you’ll have to lock up all of the CEOs in this
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