Expect the Unexpected {Trey}

[Samantha Roberts]

She really shouldn't be here.

That was the one thing that kept flying through Samantha's mind from the time she'd gotten off the plane to the very moment the cab had pulled up outside this motorcycle shop. The poor man inside had NO clue that she was even in the area and she was probably the last person on earth he'd ever dream of waltzing through his front door. Not that they weren't friends or anything but... LA was quiet a ways from New Orleans and it wasn't like they made a point of dropping in on each other unannounced.

After all, she was his lawyer and it didn't signify that they'd once set off the alarms of her building when they'd been to busy to notice that the system hadn't gotten shut down properly.

Yeah, talk about awkward trying to explain THAT one to the bosses.

Shaking her head at the memory, Sammie Roberts pushed open the door of the cab and stepped out into the cool, New Orleans breeze. Although it was Febuary, the southern climate keep it fairly warm and there was no real need for winter clothing. Pulling her suitcase from the back of the vehicle, she quickly paid the driver and then watched as it drove off before squaring her shoulders and turning back to the building.

"Well, here goes nothing!" she thought to herself, starting forward.

Just as she was about to open the front door, the sound of loud swearing caught her attention and she smiled at the familiar voice. Thank god.. He was here after all. No one could swear a blue streak like Trey when he thought there wasn't a lady to hear.

Leaving her suitcase just outside the office door, Sam moved forward until she could peek into the open garage door. What she saw was an orderly shop with tools, bikes and a man with grease all over himself bending over one. Bitting her lip against a laugh that threatened to bubble up, the dark haired beauty leaned on the door frame and watched him for a moment.

Finally, unable to help herself any longer, she called out.

"You know.... I'm not sure but.. I think that grease is actually suppose to go on the bike.... Not the mechanic!"

[trey]

Trey was hunch over a motorcycle. Wrench in hand. It was a familiar position for him. This was one of the things that he truly enjoyed doing. Working on cars and bike. Tinkering with the engines. It was something he could do to keep himself occupied when he had down time. For him in his complicated life, it also kept him sane. Well, mostly sane anyway. There were plenty of people out there that thought he was nuts. A lot more people would think that if they new what his other "job" was.

He was tightening down a a bolt on the oil pump that happened to be in an awkward position when the socket wrench slipped and his hand banged into the side of the motor. The wrench tumbled out of his hand, clattering to the cement floor of the garage.

"God damn, mother fucking, son of a bitch. Fucking piece of shit, damn it."

He yelled at the bike as he shook the pain out of his hand. Then he inspected the injured hand. It was nothing. The skin wasn't broken, just hurt like hell. No wonder they called mechanics knuckle busters.

Growling a little he was about to pick up the wrench and get back to work when he heard a familiar voice behind him. Slowly, he turned around while he rubbed his hand across his forehead. Making more of a mess of the grease on his face, though he was oblivious to that fact.

A little smile crept across his face as he took in the tall, raven haired woman that was standing in the doorway of the front office. Absently he wiped his hands on his coveralls, which was just as full of oil and grease as his hands were.

"Well... I'll be damned. Samantha Roberts. What the hell are you doing in this neck of the woods? Pretty far away from your sky scrapper office in Los Angeles aren't you?"

He walked over toward her as he rearranged the Boston Red Sox ball cap that was on his head. Turning it from backward, so it stayed out of the way while he worked, to forward. He pulled the brim down snuggly so seat the cap on his head properly.

"So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

[Samantha Roberts]

From her spot beside the door frame, Sammie had to chuckle even as her eyes slowly rolled over the masculine form before her appreciatively. There was just something about Trey Coulter that always made her go a bit breathless and even covered in grim and grease... He made her want to get a bit messy herself.

Not that she'd be telling HIM that of course. That certainly wouldn't do. Not after the last time at least. They'd damned near gotten caught in a very..... Revealing situation when they'd tripped the silent alarm of the law firms office and forgotten to punch in the code. They'd been making new used of her office desk when the buzz of sirens had alerted her to a problem.

Thankfully, they'd both managed to straighten their clothing before they were rudely barged in upon.

With that thought still bouncing around in her head, Sammie watched Trey approach with a grin on her face. His comment made a laugh bubble from her throat and then she was shaking her head.

"Actually....... I no longer have an LA office.... I"m currently in the process of looking for new space and new accommodations." she told him wryly, arching a brow. "You could say I got tired of all the smog and falling stars...."

Letting her shoulder rest against the door frame, the dark haired beauty watched as he flipped the bill of his hat back around and grinned. Of all the people she'd met of her lifetime, Trey was one that never failed to bring a smile to her lips.

"I was hoping maybe you might lend a girl a hand and help me find a place to stay around here. I hear New Orleans is a great place to do business and I need somewhere new to hang my shingle out. What do you think about that, Coulter??"