The Rebel

This is my adaptation of "Rebel With A Cause" by Kim Nelson.

Chapter 6

Jax had spent the last several hours on the Internet doing research on Brenda,
Harlan, and the rest of the company. But reading about it on a computer screen
wasn't enough. Or it didn't seem to be, because before the day was half over, Jax
found himself steering his motorcycle up her drive and past a half dozen
Mercedes, Porsches and Ferrari's to her door. He knew he shouldn't go see her. It
could complicate things and a situation that was already that was already more
complicated than it should be, but he couldn't resist the temptation, or the
unexpected need to see her again. And he was a man who loved challenges.

Cutting the motor, he kicked the stand on the bike into place and slid from the
seat to approach the porch, shrugging away the vague sense of uneasiness that
was plaguing him as he went. Some part of him was warning that this was one
challenge he could do without. But, stubbornly, he refused to listen to his
intuition...something that he usually trusted. Brenda Barrett was no threat to him.
He knew what he was doing with her. He was in control, and no harm could
come from spending more time with her. At least, he reminded himself, not as
long as he kept his hands to himself.

He reached for the doorbell.

Inside Brenda looked up at the ring and away from the cup of tea she was
pretending to sip and enjoy. She yearned to use the fading of the bell as an
excuse to escape from the meeting her mother had insisted she attend, but it was
impossible for her to avoid the planning of yet another one of Veronica Barrett’s
“charity bouts.” Not when the session had been planned for a Sunday afternoon
just to accommodate, as her mother put it, “my daughter’s work schedule.”

Brenda smothered a sigh and glanced covertly around the circle of women in the
airy den with her. Her mother’s friends, all unemployed except for the charity
work they did, they couldn’t figure out why she would want to spend her days in an
office any more than her mother did. And Brenda was helpless to explain to those
not motivated as she was that earning a salary made her feel good about herself,
about doing something with her life that she hoped made a difference.

Granted her job wasn’t as fulfilling as it could or should be. She had to fight for
every opportunity and had yet to gain her father’s complete confidence and
acceptance, but she’d done well so far, earned praise, had success. But she
wanted, needed, more. And she was making headway toward getting it. Slowly.

Leaning forward to put her cup down on the long coffee table in front of the
couch, Brenda pushed thoughts of the office aside and tried to focus on the
conversation going on around her and accept her fate. She was trapped for the
duration. Or at least she thought she was until the butler unexpectedly appeared
to whisper discreetly in her ear that she had a visitor.

Surprised but immediately grateful for the interruption, Brenda murmured a polite
excuse, gave her mother a smile of apology and made her way toward the foyer.
She had no clue as to who could be calling for her. Certainly she wasn’t
expecting anyone, but she wasn’t about to question good fortune, especially when
the distraction would give her the chance she needed to get the medicine cabinet.
A headache was beginning to throb in her skull. After she saw to whoever was at
the door, she’d go get the aspirin she desperately needed if she was going to make
it through the rest of her mother’s “meeting.”

Straightening her shoulders and putting on a polite smile of greeting, Brenda
reached the foyer and was shocked to find it empty. No one was waiting, at least
not inside. A shadow through the curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows
bordering the entrance told her visitor was outside. On the porch. Frowning and
wondering what had possessed the butler to break protocol and lock a caller out
rather than in. Wonder vanished when she saw who had come to call. Standing
on the front porch was a golden vision dressed in a black leather jacket and black
jeans.

“Jax!”

He turned from the contemplation of her massive front yard and the sprinklers
fighting the summer sun with jets of water to meet her startled stare. He’d been
reconsidering his decision to come, thinking about leaving, but watching her eyes
light up made him realize he’d made the right choice. For her and for him.

Quickly his gaze dropped to skim over her. Dressed for the heat of the day in a
sleeveless sundress, she looked cool and classy. It made him want to mess her up
by smearing her lipstick with a kiss and tangle his hair with his fingers, but he
resisted the urge by hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” she greeted.

The spontaneity of her smile made his stomach flip, but her gaze quickly darken
in concern under his.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About the job?”

Her distress was real enough to make him want to sweep her into his arms. He
settled on leaning against one of the porch pillars instead. “Actually, no.”

Puzzled, she stepped forward to stand beside him.

“I came to see if you still wanted to go looking for that motorcycle.”

“Really?” The light was back in her eyes instantly, and the reserve she seemed to
take on and off like a cloak dropped as she danced across the porch in
enthusiastic anticipation. But she quickly slipped it back on again when her steps
stopped and she found herself facing the cars parked in the drive.

“Unless I’m interrupting something?”

She turned back to him with a tight shrug. “Just another of my mother’s charity
bouts.”

His lips curved into a grin. “Charity bout?”

“What some would call a brainstorming session,” Brenda explained moving back
to stand next to him. “She and her friends get together to think of new ways to
raise money.”

“And what is the plan this time?”

“This time, the plan has some interesting possibilities.”

He liked the way her lips curled with sly appreciation. “Let me guess. A bake
sale?”

“Nothing so ordinary,” she denied with a haughty toss of her head that set her
brown hair swinging around her face.”

He frowned. “Craft’s then?”

“Nope, but its a sale of a sort.” She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with
unspoken delight. “Of men.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“An auction. Attendees get to bid on a various assortment of gentlemen.” Brenda
smiled as Jax shock dissolved into disbelieving amusement. “All money goes to
the charity, and the women get to spend the evening with the man they ‘buy.’”

“And whose idea was this I wonder?”

She shrugged innocently. “It was just a suggestion, and there is a catch.”

“What’s that?”

“Each of us on the planning committee has to enlist the aid of a minimum of six
available men.” She leaned closer once more. “Interested?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“A titillating evening with a woman eager to donate time and money for a
worthwhile cause.”

Jax grunted. “What if she’s eighty and deaf? It could make for a long evening.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You’d rescue me?”

“I’d deplete my savings account just for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Somehow, while talking, they’d gotten closer and closer, and suddenly, her mouth
was just inches from his. She held her breath.

“About that motorcycle,” Jax murmured, retraining himself and his need to touch
and curbing the desire to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

“Motorcycle,” she repeated, and hastily backed up a step, telling herself it was
just as well as he hadn’t kissed her. They had to work together starting tomorrow.
And she really wasn’t attracted to him. They had nothing in common, nothing to
share, or at least she didn’t think they did. “I...” She looked over her shoulder to
the door.

“Have to stay?”

Resentment burned. Just because she was living in her parent’s house didn’t
mean she had to be at their beck and call. She had a life of her own, and it was
time she made them realize it. “They can decide what color tablecloth to use
without me.”

“I wouldn’t want them to deprive them of your company,” Jax objected mildly,
but he liked the fight in her eye and the set to her jaw. He hadn’t been wrong.
She was straining against the bit, and unless she was given some room to move,
the reins were going to snap.

“I would.” She swung toward the door. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Gladly,” he told her, but she was already gone with a stiff back and a
determined stride...but she didn’t let the door slam. Jax frowned. He’d have to
work on getting her to release that restraint.

Ten minutes later she was back on the porch, skipping out the door wearing a
bright red T-shirt, formfitting designer jeans and carrying a dungaree jacket.
Leaning against his bike, Jax watched her come down the stairs while pulling her
hair into a ponytail and enjoyed the surge of blood that had his pulse-rate
accelerating.

“I love a woman who doesn’t take an hour to change.”

“You just have to provide the right motivation,” Brenda told him as she popped
her sunglasses on the tip of her nose before shrugging into her jacket.

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” she told him, and patted the bike. “It’s the motorcycle, not the
driver.”

“Maybe I should let you walk.”

“Maybe you should let me buy,” she countered, and slipped behind him on the
seat as he reached for the key. “I know this great hamburger stand that has the
best custard in the whole world.”

“Hungry?” He grinned over his shoulder.

“Starved. I missed lunch.”

“Overslept again?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What salary did you say you wanted?”

“Blackmail doesn’t become you.”

“And you’d look funny showing up for your first day of work with a black eye.”

He whistled. “I don’t think you’re going to need me to take on the company
board to get what you’re after, but I am going to enjoy being there to watch the
fireworks.”

She wrapped her arms around him as the bike came to life. And as Jax roared out
of the drive with enough power to make the windows of the house rattle, it was
easy to convince herself that the need to hold on tight was necessary to spare life
and limb. Pressing against him had nothing to do with the fact that she liked the
feel of muscle and heat and man. Safety was the only reason she had to sit close,
breathe deeply and relax.

Unfortunately, she soon had to let go. The custard stand wasn’t far. She directed
him to it and, after ordering, led him to a bench set beside a rippling, artificial
waterfall. Around them other people sat, eating hamburgers, drinking malts or
devouring a cone filled with the flavor of the day, but she barely noticed any of
them. Her attention was totally absorbed by the man she was with and the debate
he started about stocks and bonds.

The conversation veered from finance into current events, market trends and the
summer weather that had baked California dry, and she forgot who he was or who
she was. She didn’t think of him as belonging to one part of society and she
another. It didn’t matter that she was rich and he, apparently, without many
means. Sitting with him in the sun, he was just a man with a quick mind, acute
business sense and a smile that could make her knees knock...and any other
female’s in sight.

When he let her go briefly to get them both another scoop of custard, she noticed
a long-legged blonde giving him the eye, and following the woman’s intent stare
as Jax returned, Brenda could hardly fault the blonde for her taste. In a green
T-shirt, black jeans and his black leather jacket, Jax McCarty was devastating.
She doubted any warm-blooded female who wondered into his golden gaze would
fail to be affected. But he was with her.

Not stopping to examine the need to establish a proprietary claim or the drive to
keep his attention centered only on her, she abruptly stood and dragged him away
from the other admiring glances and back with her to the bike and the road.

She let him do the steering once they were on the street again, but doubt and
anticipation curled in her stomach as she thought of actually buying a bike such as
the one she was riding. For herself it was a reach beyond the normal into the
fantasy...a realm she seldom dwelled in. For her family it would be a shock...one
she wasn’t sure they could withstand. And none of her friends even owned a
motorcycle.

She began to question the wisdom of investing in a bike, but when Jax stopped
and parked, Brenda found he wasn’t taking her where they could shop for one.
Instead he held out a hand to lead her down the streets of Old Towne Pasadena.

Delighted by his choice, she took his fingers without question and turned with
him to be greeted by a group of mines, who amused and entertained until a gentle
tug moved Brenda on with Jax to a street magician. Her hand stayed in his as
they stood side by side watching trick after trick, and she didn’t pull away from
his touch when they left the magic behind to browse through the shops lining the
streets.

Brenda couldn’t say why she couldn’t untangle her fingers from his. Public
demonstrations of affection were something she had been brought up to avoid. It
didn’t make sense that she allowed the show of intimacy to continue with this
nearly complete stranger. But she couldn’t find the strength or need to break the
contact.

The warmth of his palm against hers was comfortable, comforting, and she didn’t
want it to stop. And she didn’t want to question why. That might come later, but
for once, she was happy to forget the watch on her wrist, to ignore the inbred
habit of accounting for every moment that passed and gladly neglected the need
to get home for dinner.

Instead time ceased to exist as she enjoyed a day that ended up on one of the
many beaches lining the California coast and the company of the enigmatic man
who took her there.

Standing beside Jax on a boardwalk, she looked out over the sand that the soaring
summer temperature had crowded with people and smiled. Men, woman and
children were everywhere, their blankets, umbrellas and swimsuits creating a
kaleidoscope of color against the sunbaked grains and lapping ocean that
stretched as far as the eye could see.

“A mass of humanity,” Jax observed from behind the dark lenses of his
sunglasses as the sun dipped toward to western horizon behind him.

“Reminds me of a rush hour without the car.”

His smile flashed as identical twins by with their mother in hot pursuit.
“Speaking of rushing.”

Brenda smiled, too, but was glad she wasn’t the one doing the chasing. The heat
of the day didn’t encourage rapid movement, and the clear blue sky above said no
relief would come soon.

“Tell me more about the company,” he unexpectedly asked.

She squinted against the dying day’s light, her own sunglasses forgotten as they
sat propped on top of her head, and reluctantly looked up at him. The turn in
conversation served to remind her that the day was temporary, as was the pleasure
it had brought. “What would you like to know?”

“I’d like to know a little about the people in charge.”

“Do you want me to include those who have officer status for ego and salary’s
sake or just those who are officers because they actually make corporate
decisions?”

He looked at her over the top of his sunglasses. “Just those whose toes I have to
avoid stepping on.”

She laughed and followed him back to the bike, filling him in on the company’s
background before the rode back to her house. She hated to leave the beach and
the day behind, but knew she had to. Duty and reality called. Fantasy could only
be indulged in short periods, if at all.

In moments she was back on the highway with the wind blowing through her hair
and the sun fading from the sky. By the time they reached San Marino. Jax had
the motorcycle’s headlight on, and the beam cut through the darkness that led up
her drive and to the front steps of the Barrett home.

She slid from the seat and away from him, telling herself it was only warmth of
his friendship she hated to be parted from. “Back to work tomorrow.”

“The start to work for me.”

She put out a hand in an automatic gesture of reassurance. “Nervous?”

He caught her fingers. “Are you?”

“Absolutely. You’re my first associate. I want you to be able to make a good
impression, start off on the right foot, blend in...” she stammered, suddenly trying
to find a way to broach the subject that had been bothering her since he’d
accepted the job “You’re okay with tomorrow? I mean, you just got to the city
and you must have a place to stay, but do you need...time or...” She cleared her
throat, and he grinned as she avoided his gaze.

“Bren, are you asking if I need money?”

She retrieved her hand from his. “It’s just the with your only arriving, I didn’t
know if you...”

“Have more in my wardrobe than T-shirts and jeans?” He shook his head as the
bike continued to idle smoothly beneath him. “I won't embarrass you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” she denied quickly, raising her eyes to his. “And it
wasn’t me that I was worried about.”

He reached out to clip her chin, touched by her concern and the sweetness behind
it. “Thank you. I’m fine.”

She nodded, swallowed and tried to stop the heat from flooding her cheeks. “I’ll
see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes, boss.”

His smile followed him out of the drive and back onto the road. It haunted him as
he headed for the house that wasn’t that far...at least in value...from hers.

Brenda’s and his wasn’t an honest relationship, and that bothered him, especially
considering he’d given in to an errant impulse he should have avoided. Going to
see her had been a bad idea. He’d considered it an act of idle curiosity, but he’d
been lying to himself.

He was attracted to Brenda Barrett. Under normal circumstances, they could have
enjoyed something other than a business association...and he could have enjoyed
defrosting the cool exterior with which she faced the world. But the
circumstances he now found himself...in were far from normal.

Letting himself into his dark house, he didn’t bother to turn on the lights but
moved by memory around the clutter of furniture to the windows overlooking the
city. He’d gotten involved with Brenda by accident, prolonged the association out
of curiosity and maybe even some sympathy. He’d been where she was. He
didn’t want to go back, and he didn’t want her to stay. She deserved and wanted
better, but simple motivations were getting complicated.

She intrigued him. Her looks, her class, the rebellion bubbling beneath the cool exterior.
The situation appealed, too. It was a different type of challenge than he was used to, he
wasn’t remaining objective. He was getting personally involved. He was starting to care
for Brenda, to see her as more than an exercise of wits and a problem to be solved, and
that wasn’t good. Not if he was going to help her. Especially considering that the deal
he was already working on could make them mortal enemies.