angrily watching as Lee hurried across the street and into the
motorcycle shop. As she waited, she suddenly sensed a presence behind
her. When she turned, she was staring directly at the large Doberman.
It had wandered out of the yard. Apparently the boat yard’s tight
security didn’t include closing the damn gate! When the animal showed
its teeth and uttered a low, terrifying growl, Faith slowly reached
down and gripped the bags. Holding them in front of her, she backed
across the street and into the parking lot of the motorcycle shop. The
Dobie lost interest in her and went back inside the boat yard.
Faith breathed a sigh of relief and put down the bags. She noted a
couple of fleshy teenagers sporting sparse goatees checking out a used
Yamaha at the same time they were ogling her. She pulled her baseball
cap down farther, turned away and pretended to examine a shiny red
Kawasaki that was, surprise, on sale. Across Jeff Davis was a business
that leased heavy construction equipment. She looked at a crane that
rose a good thirty feet in the air. Dangling from its cable was a
small forklift that had a sign painted across it that read, RENT ME.
Everywhere she looked was a world she no longer knew much about. She
had traveled a much different circuit: capital cities of the world,
high political stakes, demanding clients, enormous amounts of power and
money, all perpetually shifting like the continental plates. Things
got crushed in between these masses all the time, and no one even knew
it. She suddenly realized that the real world was a two-ton forklift
dangling like a guppy on a string. Rent me. Employ people. Build
something.
But Danny had given her a shot at redemption. She was a dime a dozen,
yet she had been doing some good in the world. For ten years now she
had been helping people who desperately needed it. Perhaps also these
ten years she’d been atoning for the vicarious guilt she’d felt growing
up, watching her father’s shenanigans, however well intentioned, and
all the pain they had caused. She had actually been afraid to ever
analyze that part of her life too deeply.
Faith heard footsteps behind her and turned around. The man was
dressed in jeans, black boots and a sweatshirt with the logo of the
motorcycle shop printed across it. He was young, early twenties, big,
sleepy eyes, tall, slender and good-looking. And he knew it, she could
readily tell, by his cocky manner. His expression clearly evidenced
that his interest in Faith was deeper than her choice in two-wheeled
transportation.
“Can I help you with anything, ma’am? Anything at all?”
“Just browsing. I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”
“Hey, this is a pretty machine over here.” He pointed to a BMW cycle
that just reeked, even to Faith’s untrained eye, of money. Wasted
money, in her opinion. But then again, wasn’t she the proud owner of a
big BMW sedan, which sat in the garage of her very expensive digs in
McLean?
He rubbed one hand slowly across the Beemer’s gas tank. “Purrs like a
kitten. You take care of beautiful things, they take good care of you.
Real good.” A big smile broke across his features as he said this. He
looked her over and winked.
Faith wondered if this was his best pickup line.
“I don’t drive them, I just ride on them,” she said casually, and then
regretted her choice of words.
He smiled broadly. “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day. In
fact, you just made my whole year. Just ride ’em, huh?” The young man
laughed and clapped his hands together. “Well, how about we go for a
spin, sweet thing? You can check out my equipment. Just climb on.”
Her face flushed. “I don’t appreciate your-”
“Now, don’t go getting mad. If you need anything, my name’s Rick.” He
held out his card and winked at her again. He added in a low voice,
“Home phone’s on the back, babe.”
She looked at the card in his hand with distaste. “Okay, Rick, but I
like full disclosure. Are you man enough to take it?”