Two Wheel Desires

The sun was just setting when I wheeled the Screamin' Eagle Fat Boy into the empty garage bay. Gary's Land Rover was parked in the next stall. I revved the engine a few times, allowing the rumbling to reverberate off the walls before shutting it down.

Entering the house, I found my husband wiping down his precious golf clubs in the kitchen. He looked up at me like he was going to smart off.

"Bought yourself a motorcycle, huh?" He stated. "Bet your dear old dad is going to love that."

"Or, are you even going to tell him?" He added before I could answer.

"I'll tell him...when the times right." I answered. "It's none of his business what I buy."

"How was the golfing junket?" I asked, wanting to change the subject. "Who won? Or should I ask who cheated the most and got away with it?"

"Well it wasn't me, that's for sure." Gary replied, checking the straightness of his number two wood. "My stroke was off something terrible."

Later that night, I drifted off to asleep, alone with just the cool evening breeze to comfort me. I slept soundly throughout the night, waking around 5am the next morning.

I dreaded the thought of starting another workweek but it couldn't be avoided. Selecting my wardrobe for the day, a light blue business suit, one with a sensible hemline, I headed off to the office.

Evelyn, as usual, greeted me with a big smile as I strode up to her receptionist's station.

"My, my! Don't you look perky this morning?" She greeted. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Yes, I sure did." I replied, grinning.

"Oh Lord! You went and bought yourself a motorcycle didn't you?" Evelyn exclaimed, detecting my surprisingly happy mood.

"Yeah, I did." I responded. "I should say, I invested in a motorcycle."

"Did Trey Morgan stop by and see you the other day?" Evelyn asked. "After I mentioned to him that you were thinking about buying a motorcycle, I wasn't sure if I did the right thing or not."

"Trey was a lot of help." I assured her. "I'm glad you said something to him."

I didn't say anything about Trey accompanying me on my motorcycle buying trip. There was really no need to divulge anything more than necessary, let alone, raise any suspicions.

Stepping off the elevator on the fourth floor, I made my way towards my office, stopping briefly at the coffee bar. I glanced down the corridor to see if my father's door was open. It wasn't so I assumed he hadn't arrived yet.

Heather was sitting at her desk, primping her hair and checking her make-up as usual. We exchanged morning greetings before I entered my office. Booting up my bank of computers, I wondered where Trey might be in the building. Promising to find out about his medication payment coverage was foremost on my mind but I needed more details before going to Personnel.

I shut my office door, something I rarely did unless I needed complete privacy. Dialing the maintenance section's telephone number, I hoped Trey would be the one to answer.

"Maintenance Department." Trey stated, answering the phone.

"It's me, Kaitlyn." I stated, keeping my voice lower than usual. "I didn't think to ask you what medication you were on."

It was something I'd never heard of let alone pronounce. Trey had to spell it for me. I asked about generic medication as a substitute but Trey assured me there wasn't any. I knew our firm's insurance covered a higher percentage on the cost of generic medications than it did brand name prescriptions. I felt I had a strong case to present to the Personnel Department.

Brad Kessler was Regency Investment Group's Personnel Manager. Even though he was in his late fifties, he thought of himself as quite a lady's man. Fairly balding and overweight, he flirted constantly with all the young female clerks, using his authority in a somewhat threatening manner. The only reason he still had a job was because of my father. They were old friends from back in their college days. Personally, I couldn't stand the man!

Stepping into the Personnel office, I noticed a new secretary sitting across from Brad's office. His office door was closed so I wasn't sure if he was in or not. Walking up to his secretary's desk, the young, buxom redhead looked up from her computer monitor.

"Can I help you Miss?" She inquired, giving me an apprehensive look.

"Is Mr. Kessler in?" I asked, glancing towards his closed office door.

"Yeah but he doesn't wanna be disturbed." The young girl replied, trying her best to ignore me.

"Is he alone?" I inquired.

"Ah...yeah. She answered, somewhat hesitant.

"But like I said, Brad doesn't want to be disturbed!" She reiterated, sounding a little defiant.

"I really don't give a damn what Brad wants!" I boldly stated, leaning over her desk. "I'll damn well disturb him if I want!"

"And you are?" The redhead asked, rising to her feet.

"Kaitlyn McConnell...Vice President." I replied with a grin.

"Oh...Miss McConnell...I...I didn't know." She muttered, falling back into her chair.

As a courtesy or should I say as a warning, I tapped on Brad's office door before opening it. Brad's head snapped in my direction, his mouth dropped open and he shut down his computer monitor all within a fraction of a second.

"Downloading porn?" I jested. "Or chatting online with some young girl?"

"Ah...neither, Kaitlyn." Brad responded.

He was obviously lying and it showed in his face and in his mannerisms. He looked pale as a ghost and became instantly nervous.

"What brings you to Personnel?" He asked trying to change the subject of his computer usage.

"I just stopped by to check out your new secretary, the redhead." I answered, sitting down across from his desk.

"Hah! Donna's a real looker, isn't she?" Brad laughed. "I met her at Hooters awhile back."

"She was probably born at Hooters." I quipped. "I assume she's got other qualifications besides big tits."

"What other qualifications does she need?" Brad smarted off. "Who needs brains when you've got boobs like hers?"

"Well, let's get off the boob subject, shall we?" I responded, growing tired of the subject. "I'm here to discuss updating our prescription drug program."

Before I could say anything more, Brad broke into an almost rehearsed oratory about Regency's policy on covering costs for prescription drugs for its employees. I sat and waited patiently for him to finish before saying anything.

"Brad, I don't care what the current policy states." I affirmed. "I wanna make some changes."

"Changes! What the hell for?" He asked, a bit stunned. "The employees are happy with it the way it is!"

"Not all the employees, just most." I answered. "I want to raise the cost coverage percentage on brand name prescription drugs where there isn't a generic medication available from thirty-five percent to eight-five percent."

"Bullshit! That's the same as what we cover for generics!" Brad exclaimed. "A move like that probably cost this firm a small fortune."

"I doubt if it'd be all that much." I countered. "There's not all that many medications that don't have a generic equivalent."

"I probably should discuss this matter with your father before making any changes to our policy." Brad retorted, leaning back in his high-back leather chair. "I doubt he'll go along with it."

"Do I need to remind you I'm the vice president of this firm?" I retaliated, rising to my feet. "I can change any employee policies I want with or without my father's permission."

"I can also can you fat ass in the blink of an eye!" I added before he could interrupt me. "I don't need my father's permission to do that either!"

"Contact our insurance provider and have them make the changes immediately." I continued. "Have them fax a new agreement to me for signature as soon as possible."

"Anything else?" Brad inquired, his face now almost colorless.

"Yeah. I wanna see a posting on all the bulletin boards no later than close of business tomorrow detailing the changes."

"OK." Brad agreed. "I'll...I'll get to work on it right away."

"Thanks Brad. I knew you'd see things my way." I smarted off. "That's why you're in the position you're in."

Leaving Brad's office, I purposely left his door open. His secretary, Donna, gave me a nervous look as I passed by her desk.

"Mission accomplished!" I thought to myself, proceeding towards my father's office.

Claire Williams, my father's secretary, was busy typing away like mad when I reached his office. Claire had been my father's secretary for over twenty years and was quite proficient at her job. She was in her late fifties but looked much older because of her appearance. She wore no make-up whatsoever and fixed her light brown hair in a tight bun. She always had a pencil tucked securely in the bun like a radio antenna. She never called me or my father by our first name and that bothered me.

"Good morning, Miss McConnell." Claire greeted me. "Would you like to see Mr. Bauer?"

"Yes, if he's not busy." I answered.

"He's not." She stated. "Would you like me to announce you?"

"No, that won't be necessary." I replied. "I'll just go on in."

My father was standing at the windows, peering out at the traffic on I-69. He barely turned to see who it was when I entered his office. His facial expression was stern with a hint of disappointment showing.

"Is that what we're paying you for?" I kidded, trying to get a feel for his disposition.

"I see you made one right decision." He declared, scanning over my conservative business suit.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned, sitting down in his office chair.

"It means if you continue doing stupid things like buying a God damn motorcycle, you're never going to be sitting in that chair when I decide to retire!" He exclaimed.

"Well, I'm not so sure I wanna end up sitting in this chair." I responded, putting my feet up on his desk. "And how the hell did you know I bought a motorcycle?"

"Gary called me this morning...at home." Dad replied. "He's not too happy about your buying a motorcycle either."

"That Son of a Bitch!" I exclaimed, putting my feet back down to the floor.

"I'll buy whatever I damn well please, whether you or my husband like it or not!" I shouted. "It's my life and I'll damn well live it like I want!"

"On a motorcycle, you won't live it for long." My father asserted. "They're too dangerous, not to mention, unsafe."

"Oh bull!" I contradicted. "They're only as dangerous and unsafe as the rider allows."

"I want you to get rid of it." My father commanded. "Get rid of it before it gets rid of you."

"Not only am I NOT going to get rid of it, I may just buy another one!" I retorted. "Hell, I may just invest in a dealership of my own!"

"Now you're sounding like a complete fool Kaitlyn." Dad affirmed. "At your age, you should be thinking about having kids, not motorcycles."

"Gary and I are never gonna have children." I blatantly stated. "We hardly...we hardly have any physical contact with each other anymore."

My confession seemed to stun my father more than I expected. He slowly made his way behind his desk and sat down. He looked pale, almost faint. Even though I was standing directly across from his desk, he didn't appear to see me.

"Are you two talking divorce?" He mumbled, finally looking up at me.

"No, we're not talking divorce." I replied. "We rarely talk at all."

"Is that why you bought a motorcycle?" He questioned. "Because you're unhappy with your marriage?"

"No. I bought it so I could enjoy life a little." I responded. "Other than work, I don't have any other interests."

"Riding my motorcycle gives me a renewed sense of happiness." I added. "It's something to look forward to."

"Well, I'm not happy." My father grumbled. "But if it makes you happy, that's what's important...I guess."

"Don't worry about me." I stated, putting both hands on my father's shoulders. "I'm a very careful rider. I don't take chances or risks."

"Someday you're gonna be sitting in this chair." Dad affirmed. "I want you to be alive and healthy when that time comes."

"I will be." I murmured, gently squeezing his shoulders.

Returning to my office, I found Heather doing what she does best, primping her hair and checking her make-up.

"Lover boy was here." She commented.

"What?" I questioned, my heart rate almost doubling.

"That Trey guy was here." Heather replied. "The light over my desk started flickering. It was driving me crazy."

"I see he got it fixed." I acknowledged, looking up at the fluorescent light.

"Oh yeah." Heather asserted. "God, he's got a cute little butt! I wanted to just reach out and grab it."

"That would probably have brought about a complaint of sexual harassment." I stated.

"Yeah. He's probably gay anyway." Heather remarked. "Guys with cute, tight butts are usually gay."

"How fuckin' dumb can this girl be!" I thought, stepping into my office.

I spent the rest of the day on other business matters, watching the clock slowly tick off the minutes, then the hours. My heart wasn't in my work. All I could think about was rushing home, changing clothes and getting on my motorcycle.

About 2:30 that afternoon, I rode the elevator down to the main level and stepped out behind the building to smoke a cigarette. The last thing I wanted was to run into Trey but I didn't get my wish. Within minutes, Trey came out of the service entrance, walking directly towards me.

"Not too close." I warned. "Someone might be watching."

Trey stopped about ten foot away from me and lit up a cigarette. He looked off in another direction instead of directly at me.

"I guess a kiss would be out of the question." He jested after looking around to make sure we were alone.

"Yep. Afraid so." I responded, tossing my cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

I returned to my office to finish up the day's work and watch the clock tick off more minutes. A last minute phone call from one of our more prestigious investors delayed my departure for home. It was almost 6:00pm when I joined the other commuters on the interstate.

By 7:00pm I was astride my Eagle, cruising east towards Fortville, enjoying the fresh air and the feel of the Harley-Davidson between my legs. Passing several oncoming motorcyclists, we exchanged friendly waves. Riding by myself felt great. I could go wherever I wanted as fast or slow as I wanted but I missed Trey riding along with me. Riding with someone, even a passenger, would be better than riding alone.

It was late, almost 11:00pm, when I rolled into the garage. The house was dark so I figured Gary had already gone to bed. Not feeling sleepy, let alone tired, I decided to spend time wiping off my bike, prepping it for the next ride.

"You gonna sleep with it too?" My husband, Gary smarted off, stepping out into the garage. "That thing makes enough racket to wake up the whole neighborhood."

"I just might." I replied. "It's warm, sensitive, vibrating and responds to my every touch. Not like a husband I might be somewhat familiar with."

"It's not my fault you're a lousy fuck." Gary declared, tightening the belt on his terrycloth robe. "Whoever said all sex was good sure didn't know you, that's for sure."

I'm not sure if I was more stunned than hurt by my husband's callous statements. I didn't know what to say in response. I just stood there like an idiot with a dismayed look on my face. The smirk on Gary's face only added to my wounded feelings. I sat down on the cool concrete floor, fighting hard to hold back the tears.

Going to bed later that night, I tried sleeping but remembering Gary's comments kept me awake. I finally dozed off about 2:00am for a few hours. The next morning, feeling tired from lack of sleep, I decided to prove Gary wrong rather than fall victim to his remarks like a beaten dog.

Before leaving for work, I checked myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. The burgundy business suit with its short skirt showed off more than an ample amount of my legs. Beneath the jacket I wore a white silk blouse unbuttoned just enough to show a little cleavage. Just the right amount of jewelry complimented the outfit perfectly.

Checking my hair and make-up in the bathroom mirror before I left gave me the confidence I needed to meet the demands ahead of me. I knew my father would have a conniption when he saw how I was dressed but I didn't care, not anymore.

"I'm not a lousy fuck." I thought, primping my hair. "And, if I have to prove it, I will."

"I may just get this hair cut short." I muttered to myself. "It'd sure make it easier to take care of. The damn wind's really playing havoc with it when I'm out riding."

Entering the Regency Building that morning, I could see more than just a surprised look on Evelyn's face. She gave me a halfway frown as her eyes scanned over my attire. She seemed at a loss for words.

"Short as hell, isn't it?" I jested, walking up to her desk.

"Short isn't the word for it." Evelyn countered. "I damn sure hope you've got color-matching underwear on."

"I'm not wearing any underwear." I kidded, just to see her reaction.

"You're not..." She stammered. "You better be puttin' me on."

"I am." I confessed. "I just wanted to get a rise out of you."

"Kaitlyn, with that outfit, you're gonna be seein' a lot of rises!" Evelyn quipped. "And I don't mean eyebrows either!"

"I'm wearing it for two reasons." I stated. "One, it looks fantastic on me and two, it makes me feel good about myself. Right now...I really need both."

"Trouble on the homefront, huh?" Evelyn surmised.

"Yeah." I murmured. "But I may just do something to remedy it...permanently."

Strolling off towards the elevators, I noticed several male employees from the Research Department taking a longer than casual glance at my legs. I purposely switched hands carrying my attaché so they could get an even better look.

Reaching the fourth floor, I stepped off the elevator, coming face to face with my father. He looked pissed, even more so after he looked over what I was wearing. Or should I say, not wearing.

"I was about to ask if you'd lost your mind." He asserted. "From the looks of that outfit or lack of it, I don't need to ask."

"Get used to it Dad." I retorted. "I may be wearing more just like it on a regular basis."

"Maybe you should have spent your valuable time writing a policy on dress codes rather than making drastic changes to our policy on prescription drug costs coverage." He scolded, waving a piece of paper in my face.

"I see your old buddy Brad sent you an email notifying you about the changes I asked for." I grumbled.

"Do you realize what this could cost?" My father asked, shaking the paper in my face. "Did you run the numbers?"

"Not that much." I barked, grabbing the paper from his hand. "Besides, it's only fair to those employees who don't have a generic medication available to them."

"I realize the costs of some medications are totally unreal." My father concurred. "But do you think it's wise that we should bear the added cost?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." I replied with a stern look directly into my father's eyes. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't buck me on this."

"Alright. I'll go along with it for now." Dad agreed. "But I want Brad Kessler to monitor the additional costs. If it gets to be a problem, you and I are gonna have a serious discussion."

"Agreed." I responded, smiling softly. "Now, how about buying me a cup of coffee?"

Taking my father's arm, I let him escort me to the coffee bar. Putting just the right amount of powdered cream in my cup, I caught him taking another glance at my skirt's very short hemline.

"Don't say anything." I warned. "I'm not going to change clothes just because you don't approve."

"I hope you get over all this silliness." Dad moaned. "You're just not acting like yourself and it's beginning to worry me."