“You’ll need to go down the hall, third door on your right.”
“Thanks.” I turn and walk away a few steps before stopping and looking back at her. “Glenda, serious as shit, you have any more trouble with Remy, Brax and Oakly, you give me a call, yeah? I’ll sort them out, no bullshit, okay?”
“Thanks, Switch,” she sighs.
I’m President of the Mayhem MC, Alabama chapter, and in a few weeks time Joe’s Bar is putting on a Charity Ball to raise funds for a local family who lost their house and all their belongings in a fire. Since we like to do right by our community, we’re one of the major sponsors and today I have a meeting with the new PR manager at Joe’s to go over some last minute details before the event.
I knock on the door twice before a female voice softly calls for me to come in.
I walk in and stop dead. She’s bent over her desk, sifting through some paperwork. She looks up and gasps in recognition.
That’s right, bright eyes. I affect you the same way you affect me.
She straightens and runs her hands roughly down her skirt as she plasters on a bright smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Uh, I’m here for a meeting with the new PR manager,” I finally manage, my mouth feeling suddenly dry.
Jesus, that skirt should be illegal. The black fabric is tight from her knees to just under those beautiful tits, and those are covered in a white, silky blouse. My eyes drift down her body, taking it all in until I reach the pair of shiny silver heels and I groan.
Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have them digging into my ass as I took her.
“That’s me,” she chirps. “I should officially introduce myself, I’m Jenna Mason, the new PR Manager.” She holds her hand out to shake mine.
“Switch,” I take her hand in mine and grip it firmly. “Major sponsor of your fundraiser.” A look of confusion passes over he face but she schools her features almost immediately.
Damn she’s beautiful.
JENN
My brow furrows when he introduces himself using his nickname. I would have thought he’d at least say his proper given name. I guess it’s just another trait of his bad boy persona. It annoys me that I like it. Before today, I would have thought a person was arrogant and rude if they failed to introduce themselves properly. But now? Now, I think it’s attractive. He’s obviously confident enough in his own skin that he doesn’t have to put on some façade. He’s just himself. And that is attractive. It’s manly, and I like it. A lot.
“Please, take a seat,” I gesture for him to sit across from me. I inwardly applaud myself for keeping my voice level. My eyes slowly roam over his body. I notice immediately how his black shirt fits snug against his torso. Over that he’s wearing a leather vest with a patch sewn on it stating President.
“Firstly, I want to start off by thanking the Mayhem motorcycle club for their generous donation toward this fundraiser. I’m sure you’re aware the McMahon family lost everything except their lives in the fire, and while I didn’t know them personally, it’s heartwarming to see a community support one of their own in such an enthusiastic way.”
“One of the best things about Salt Rock,” he agrees.
I squeeze my legs together, his deep, raspy voice causing my stomach to tighten.
“Yes, well, uh, right,” I stutter, completely blanking on where I was going with this conversation.
“So, this meeting is just to go over the details for the ball?” He prompts.
“Oh, yes.” I grab my notes sheet. “As you know, the ball will be held here, at Joe’s, in the large ballroom that we have. It will be the first time it has been used and we’re very excited about that. So far, ticket sales have exceeded our expectations and we’re almost sold out, despite the event being two weeks away.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“It certainly is. On the night of the ball, after the silent auction has been completed, the live band will begin and as our major sponsor, we thought it would be nice if you, or one of your club members, would share the first dance of the night with an employee of Joe’s Bar. It will most likely be me,” I add, my cheeks heating.
“Sounds like a great idea. I’ll have a word with the brothers, find out who hasn’t got two left feet,” he chuckles, making me relax slightly. Even so, I can’t deny the pang of disappointment that shoots through me when he doesn’t immediately offer himself up for the challenge.
“Great. Well, I think that’s about it. Unless, you have any questions for me?”
He pauses for a moment and then opens his mouth as if to say something, but he snaps it shut before any words come out.