Billionaire Wedding: Brooklyn's Baby (Interracial Billionaire Wedding Romance) ( Contemporary Taboo Alpha Male Wedding Romance) Read Free

honest smile appeared on Mercedes face as she sat up on the back of the chopper. It had been her father’s. Sitting atop the motorcycle, a sense of calm overcome her.
                  Mercedes ran her fingers over the handlebars. If she had not been drinking all evening, she would have taken it out for a long-overdue spin around the neighborhood. It would have been a better stress-relief than the whiskey had been. She recalled sitting in front of her father on the chopper when she was small, his arms around her as the wind slapped her little face. On more than one occasion, he had taken her outside of the city to speed up and down the highways. Once, and only once, they had taken the chopper down south on the one vacation they had ever gone on. It had been a beach trip; her grandparents and her Uncle Tito had followed behind in her grandfather’s Ford Mustang; she smiled, recalling how excited her grandfather was when his two sons had bought him the vehicle after an exceptional financial year at the garage. Mercedes had spent a considerable amount of the trip down south riding with her father on the bike, but her grandparents had insisted she needed to ride in the car as much as possible.
                  The memory slowly faded as unpleasant flashes of her father’s illness appeared in her mind. She preferred to remember the strong, happy man on the bike rather than the dying man in a hospital bed. Towards the end, her father had been completely unrecognizable to her; she had cared for him the best that she could, but as her Uncle Tito said - the angels were calling louder than they were. Her father’s passing had taken a heavy toll on her and on the shop as well. Deciding she had sat on the bike long enough, she stood and covered it with the worn tarp.
                  Mercedes looked around, deciding that Tito’s office would be the best option for a good night’s sleep. Luckily, Tito never kept his office door locked, and it could be accessed from inside the garage. She crossed the garage floor, careful to avoid slipping in a puddle of water that had formed after she had hosed the place out earlier that afternoon. She entered her uncle’s office, rolling her eyes at the large amount of paperwork that had been tossed about carelessly. Mercedes took time to file and stack the papers in their appropriate locations. Tito had left his large jacket lying over the back of his rolling chair. “I guess that would work,” she mumbled and snatched up the jacket.
                  She looked around, spotting a seat cushion in the corner that had been pulled out of a car they had scrapped. “Perfect,” she said and grabbed the torn-up seat cushion that had never made its way outside to the trash bin. Using the seat cushion as a pillow and her uncle’s jacket as a blanket, Mercedes curled up in a corner on the floor. She was certain that the cement ground would give her a good backache come morning, but she felt thankful that there was a bit of alcohol in her system - it would help her sleep despite the discomfort.
    After turning onto her side and curling up with the jacket, she spotted the framed photograph that sat on her uncle’s desk. It was of Tito and her father, Benny. The two men looked so young, happy, and healthy. She had never noticed the photograph before since she rarely came into her uncle’s office. But perhaps it was new? The picture was from the grand opening of Benny’s and Tito’s ; they had both been so proud of their accomplishment. Opening day had been incredibly busy with car after car looked at and several dozen estimates quickly piled up on her father’s desk come closing time.
    In the background of the picture was the shop - bright and pristine unlike how it was now. Now it was a run-down nightmare that required just as much repair time as the cars that they worked on. This was one of the troubles that kept her running back to the bar: she felt she was