“That’s cute,” I say, nudging him playfully with my shoulder. “She does have a great dad, and an amazing uncle, too. I can’t wait to meet her.”

   “I have a good feeling about it all,” he says, bringing his brown eyes to me. “Everything happens for a reason.”

   He’s always thought that and had an optimistic outlook on life, even though he lost his wife, which has always puzzled me a little. Instead of becoming bitter and cynical at the world, he has always been the glass-half-full type of man, and I love that about him. It’s how I try to look at the world as well.

   “And about your job, you should have called me,” he adds after a few seconds of silence. “You know that’s what I’m here for. There’s no reason for you to stress out and take it all upon yourself.”

   “I know, Dad,” I say. “But it’s fine. It’s not the end of the world.”

   “If you need money—”

   “I will let you know,” I say, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “I know that you are here for me no matter what, okay? And if I get into deep shit, you’re the first person I will call.”

   And that’s the truth. But that doesn’t mean I want to depend on him for everything. He wants to make my life easier, but I want to do the same for him, and that means not burdening him with all of my problems.

   “Now what’s been going on with you? Met any nice women?” I ask, changing the subject.

   His eyes light up with humor. “None worthy of bringing home to you.”

   “You know I wouldn’t care if you met someone and moved on with your life, Dad. Second loves are a real thing,” I say.

   “I know.” He nods, sobering. “Your mom was my soul mate, Bronte. And there is no moving on from that.”

   “You don’t have to find something the same—you could find something different, but still special,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder. “It’s just you here. Wouldn’t you like someone to share a home with?”

   Uncle Neville comes over and sits with us before my dad can respond. “All sorted for your job, Bronte. They will contact you and give you all of the information.”

   “You work fast. Thank you so much, that’s a huge stress relief,” I say, giving him a warm hug. “I owe you one.”

   He squeezes me tightly and then cups my cheek before letting me go. “You owe me nothing. You’re smart and a hard worker; they will love you there. You will probably get to see Abbie here and there too, because her partner is one of the owners,” he explains.

   “I hope so. I want to thank her in person and get to know her. It’s not every day you find out you have a cousin who’s the same age as you.”

   “I think you two will get on like a house on fire,” he says. “I might not have been around to raise her, but she’s a fine young woman. She is strong willed and has a good heart, just like you.”

   “So you had no idea about her?”

   He shakes his head. “Her mom didn’t tell me she was pregnant, so no, I had no idea until the truth came out.”

   “I’m sorry she did that to you,” I say, brow furrowing. “But better late than never, right? At least we all get to know her now, and have her in our lives.”

   “Exactly,” Dad adds, looking at his brother. “All that matters is now.”

   “I have a lot of time to make up for,” my uncle admits, glancing out at the sky. “But yeah, I feel really lucky to have her in my life. I never thought I’d have any biological children.”

   “She’s a lucky girl,” I say, winking. “I’m going to go and grab a drink. Do either of you want anything?”

   They decline. I get up, head back to the kitchen, put my plate away and grab a soda for myself. When I come back outside, I see my dad and Neville in the corner together, chatting away. Whatever they’re talking about seems pretty important, so I linger for a little while before returning to join them.

   “That would be one million in profit; we’d be stupid to turn that down,” I hear Neville saying to my dad as I finally approach. The two of them go silent at my arrival, the conversation cutting off.

   “I can come back,” I say, wondering what the hell they were talking about for that amount of money. I know my uncle is pretty well off and my dad does just fine, but that conversation makes no sense to me.

   “No, don’t be silly, come and sit with us,” Dad says, tapping the spot next to him, where I was sitting before. “Your uncle can tell me about his business deals later.”

   I stay until it gets dark, and then head home. And the next morning, I get a message from someone named Crow. No phone call, just a text.

   You start tomorrow. Be at Fast & Fury Custom Motorcycles by 10.

   And just like that, my employment issues are over.

* * *

   After glancing at the GPS on my phone, I park my car and look at the sign through my window. Yep, this is the place.

   I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t know a thing about motorcycles. My knowledge of cars, or any kind of vehicle for that matter, is pretty limited. I just hope I can do a good job, because the last thing I need to do is make my uncle and the cousin I haven’t met yet look bad for recommending me. I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling a little nervous right now, but I need to act confident and make a good impression.

   Sliding out of the car, I pull down my knee-length pencil skirt and square my shoulders. The new material of my crisp white shirt isn’t the comfiest, but it makes me look the part. As I pass the window to the entrance, I take a look at myself. With my long dark hair piled on my head in a bun and the glasses on my face, I kind of look like a librarian, but I guess that’s a professional look.

   Stepping inside the warehouse is like a whole other world. There’s beautifully done graffiti on the walls, and the workspace shows off brand-new, sparkling bikes. The main room leads into a wide spacious garage, and it has a cool, urban vibe. There’s music playing over the speakers, and it doesn’t look like they have spared any expense with the interior design. In the middle, there’s a reception area with a large, expensive-looking wooden desk and a little staircase leading to another level, one with bikes in various states of being rebuilt. It’s a pretty awesome space.

   “Hello?” I call out when I see no one around. Apparently they really do need staff. I’m assuming I’m supposed to be meeting Crow, but I have no idea what to expect right now.

   A door opens from behind the reception area, and a tall, muscular blond man walks out. He’s very handsome. He’s covered in tattoos and looks good even though he’s dressed in jeans and a god-awful bowling shirt with a white top underneath. I wonder if this is his usual look.