Page 3 of The Devil's Revelation
TWO
TORQUE
I’m a jackass, but I’m going to try to make it right.
“You did what?” my mother barks at me, eyes flashing as she stares at me.
“You heard me,” I reply calmly. “I don’t need a receptionist, and I told her so. Also, I don’t appreciate you sending random women in here, Mom. I know you think since King and Sage are all shacked up that we need to have women in our lives, but that’s not going to happen with me.”
Mom stares at me for a moment. Then she slowly turns her head towards my father, leaning against the counter, who is looking at me like I’m a dumbass. My father and I are the spitting images of each other, though his hair has gone more salt and pepper in the last few years. Right now, though, I get the feeling that he’s about to ream my ass too.
“I birthed a nitwit,” Mom declares. “An absolute moron. I’d like to say we dropped him on his head, but unless it happened while I wasn’t looking, I can’t use that excuse.” I roll my eyes at her dramatics. She points a red painted nail at me. “Did you even look at her resume?”
“Why would I? She came in here wearing a damn skirt and blouse, Mom. No mechanic wears that in a shop.”
“And you didn’t read my note?” she asks tightly.
“I told you, I’m not going along with your matchmaking nonsense.”
“Boy, your mother’s right, you’re a nitwit,” Dad sighs.
Mom marches around the counter, snatches up the discarded resume and shoves it in my face. “Read it,” she snaps.
“Mom—”
“Do it, and don’t say another word until you read it through.”
I glance at my father, and the look on his face tells me to do as she says. Sighing, I look at the resume, pausing when I realize what Izzy told me is true. Not to mention she has actual experience working in a garage. I frown as I scan over the marks she earned from her classes, at the recommendation from her instructors, and finally the references from well known people in the industry.
A sinking feeling grows in my stomach. Shit. I’ve fucked up. Royally. Not only is she more than qualified, but she could actually help take some of the load off here. The shop is getting busier with each passing day, and while we’ve tossed around the idea of hiring another person, someone not in the club, I haven’t pulled the trigger yet.
I clearly remember the pissed off look on her face when I basically wrote her off as some bimbo that only wanted to bed a biker.
“Finally, he gets it,” Mom drawls, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes dark and stormy. I’m in the doghouse, and I have a feeling that I’m going to be in there until I straighten this out. “I taught you better than this, Harley Fox.” Fuck, she brought up my legal name, not my road name which I’ve been called Torque since I was a kid and picked up my first wrench. “You know better than to judge someone on their looks. Now, not only have you insulted a perfectly good mechanic, and a very nice woman, but you’ve no doubt made us all look like misogynistic assholes.”
I run a hand through my hair. She’s right, and it does not sit well with me. Mom’s also right in that she taught us a hell of a lot better than this. I can’t even excuse myself or come up with some kind of explanation. I was a douche.
“There’s only one thing you can do, son,” Dad says evenly.
I nod, knowing he’s right. I look at the address on the resume, seeing it’s not far. “I’ll fix it as soon as we close.”
“No, you’ll fix it now,” Mom snaps. “Your father and I can man the garage.”
I want to say something smart, but in this current situation, it’s probably not a good idea. Instead, I nod and move to go around the counter. “Don’t burn the place down,” I say over my shoulder.
Dad chuckles but Mom snarls. “I knew I should have left him at the hospital and traded him in for a girl,” I hear her say to my father, who laughs.
I roll my eyes as I walk out into the hot sun. I ignore the looks I get from some of the brothers as I make my way out the gate and down the sidewalk. It won’t be long before the guys at the shop hear about this and then it’ll be around the clubhouse like wildfire. The entire club is worse than a bunch of hens gossiping. Not to mention I hate being the center of attention.
Maybe it’s middle child syndrome or something, but I like to stay in the background and voice my opinion when needed. King, my youngest brother, is the club’s Sergeant at Arms, and works for the club’s construction company with our eldest brother, Stone. Both have no problem sticking their noses in everything, and sometimes jumping in head first before considering all the variables.
You’re no better with the stunt you pulled today, my conscience reminds me. Damn it.
Izzy’s face flashes in my mind. The anger and hurt are imprinted on my mind forever now and my gut clenches hard. She definitely didn’t look like a mechanic, but Mom’s right, that shouldn’t have even been a factor. Hell, anyone looking for a job usually dresses up a bit when they drop off a resume just in case.
I’d like to blame the whole thing on the fact that she’s hot as hell and it threw me for a loop. Her long blonde hair, and bright blue eyes startled me when I saw her, and I instantly felt a spurt of desire flood my veins and made my cock twitch. Something it hasn’t done since I was a horny teenager and admiring the head cheerleader from afar.
Still, if she forgives me and comes to work at the shop, it’s not like I’ll be able to pursue her anyway. I don’t date employees; hell I don’t date anyone. I’m more of a fuck you and get the hell out as fast as possible without sounding like a dick kind of guy. Most women know the score, and if they don’t, it’s over. The last thing I need is a woman sinking her claws into me and acting all needy.
