Brother from another mother

Fast Cars

Harvey was thoroughly enjoying their time with Geoffrey Thurgan. The man was the owner of a small but powerful and extremely successful credit reporting company, and he happened to share Harvey's interest for fast cars and expensive suits.

They were at Thurgan's mansion, discussing new deals in between a banana yellow 1967 Miura Lamborghini and a silver 1955 Porsche 550 spyder. Harvey felt like he was in heaven. This man definitely had good taste.

Mike, meanwhile, looked extremely out of place, and Harvey nearly winced every time he saw him.

His associate was eyeballing the cars with awe and fear, and he kept a large distance between them and his person. It was probably a good idea, since with Mike's luck he'd probably end up scratching them and then they'd have a lawsuit on their hands—one they'd be on the wrong side of.

"What do you think, Harvey? Wanna go for a spin?" Thurgan asked him with a devilish grin on his face. Harvey started thinking up ways to get Thurgan's company anything they ever asked for forever as he thought of riding in that Porsche.

He was just about to accept the offer when his evil, interfering cell phone ruined his life.

He grimaced and Thurgan nodded understandingly as Harvey moved off to answer the call from Jessica, who probably had devastatingly bad news if she was calling during a meeting. At least, Harvey prayed it was devastatingly bad news; he wouldn't be able to accept that anything less had missed him his chance to ride in that masterpiece.

…

Mike was not having a good time.

He had been happy to have been brought along with Harvey to this meeting, of course, but he'd hardly expected to be around so many one-of-a-kind, priceless death-machines.

He'd done his best to keep his distance from the cars so as to avoid causing injury to them, and therefore himself. Harvey would kill him if he so much as breathed on them wrong.

So it was with a sinking feeling that Mike watched Harvey turn from a smiling Thurgan to take a call on his cell. He couldn't help feeling helpless as Thurgan sauntered over to him.

"Mike, was it?" Thurgan smiled.

"Yeah, um, yes, sir," Mike said, glancing desperately over to Harvey. The man was frowning and wincing and not paying him any attention. He must be talking to Jessica, Mike thought.

"Harvey and I were going to go for a ride, but I think he'll probably be occupied for quite some time. How do you feel about taking his place?" Thurgan asked him, as though Mike wasn't a third wheel here. The man was more Harvey's speed, but Mike had to admit that he was far more polite than his boss could ever be.

"Oh, no, really. You don't have to do that. I wouldn't want to leave Harvey here, he might need me," Mike stumbled out.

Thurgan gave a throaty laugh and Mike felt like he was being made fun of. He tried to catch Harvey's attention with a look, but the man had his back turned.

"I'm sure Harvey can handle things here. C'mon, it's fun! How often do you get the chance to ride in one of these?" Thurgan said seductively. Mike hoped he was just joking.

"I'm more of a bike person," he managed. He threw a glance at Harvey again, but Thurgan used Mike's moment of despair to drag him towards the Porsche.

"Harvey tells me you like trivia, Mike. Did you know this is the kind of car James Dean died in?" Thurgan asked, tugging gently but firmly on Mike's sleeve.

"September 30, 1955," Mike responded. They passed Harvey and Mike turned around to give him the most panicked look he could think of and mouthed 'HELP!' for emphasis. Cruel, cruel Harvey just gave a silent chuckle and carried on.