"Yes. And I was told it would be premium." Chad started ticking off on his fingers. "Motorized. Exclusive. The best you've got." His hand dropped. "You're feeling me, right?"
"Sure, but it's a no-go on the motor." Again, Wall Street leaned in as if confessing a crime. "Unless you want to end up in the slammer."
Chad blinked. "The slammer?"
"Yeah, jail." Wall Street said it with a straight face, like it happened all the time. "Small towns, am I right?"
Chad's gaze grew wary. "I guess so."
"But thing is," Wall Street continued, "that bike – Shark Attack – it's part of our Eclectic Elite collection. It's a great choice, but it's actually been reserved."
Chad eyed the bike with renewed interest. "Yeah. Byme."
"Yes and no," Wall Street said. "The thing is, someone beat you to it. But I forgot to put it in the book."
Chad looked up. "What are you saying? That I can't have it?"
Wall Street shook his head. "I'm afraid not."
Afraid – it was a funny word coming from my rescuer. Somehow, I had the distinct impression that this guy wasn't afraid of anything.
And now Chad was blustering. "ButI'mhere. They're not. If anyone should get the bike, it's me." With a jerk of his chin, he announced, "AndIwanna call it Shark Bike."
I said nothing. He could call it Nancy for allIcared.
I just wanted it resolved one way or another, preferably without losing money or face. His rental had been pre-paid, and I dreaded the thought of giving him a refund, because, well…I didn't have the funds on hand.
How embarrassing wouldthatbe?
My rescuer made a face of regret as he told Chad, "I wish I could help. And Iwould, trust me. But this reservation came in weeks ago." Again, he lowered his voice. "And believe me when I say, this guy isn't someone you'd cross."
Chad gave a furtive glance over his shoulder. "Who is it?"
"I'm not at liberty to say – NDA and all."
A non-disclosure agreement? Seriously?
Chad puffed up like a blowfish. "That's ridiculous. I'm a verified influencer." He pointed to the same sharky bike that he'd rejected just moments ago. "Andthat'sthe bike I want."
"I hear you," Wall Street said. "But if we give it to you and the VIP shows up? He'll make trouble. You know how these rich guys are."
I almost snorted. Wall Streetwasa rich guy. Probably he was talking from experience.
Chad was starting to sweat. "Well…can't you offer him something else?"
"Sorry, that's above my pay grade." Wall Street flicked his head in my direction. "Like I said, she's the one in charge."
The handoff was so smooth, I almost smiled – even as Chad turned pleading eyes on me. "Listen, you want good publicity, right?"
I hardly knew what to say. "Sure, but – "
"I can make it happen. But listen up." He extended an arm and pointed straight at the bike in question. "I. Want. That. Bike."
12
Tour de Main Street
Maisie
