by K R Max
She looks dubious but clicks her mouse a couple times, then does a double take. I allow my smug satisfaction to warm me from the inside out. It was damn cold last night and there’s not much insulation on a ‘67 Mustang. I’m still chilled to the bone. Another reason to get working sooner. It’ll warm me up.
A heavy man strides in, looking furious. “Get to the store and buy some more coffee,” he snaps at the receptionist.
She nods and he turns to head back into the shop.
“Frank-”
“What?” He snarls at her.
Her smile wilts and I cringe, even though his tone isn’t aimed at me. This is Frank? Working for him is going to be fun.
“Your new hire is here.” She gestures at me and he turns, seeing me for the first time.
He looks me up and down, and it’s like déjà vu. I’ve seen that same look of dismissal and amusement on so many male faces, I could probably draw it in my sleep. Or at least make it out of a collage of engine parts. I’m not the artistic type.
“I don’t think so,” he drawls, and turns away.
“Charlie Steele,” I say firmly. “I have your email right here, offering me a week’s a trial. I can promise you, you won’t regret it.”
He turns back to me, distrust and anger simmering in his eyes. Shit. He doesn’t like that I put one over on him about my name, nor that I’m standing up for myself. Oh, this is just going to be awesome, I think with an inward sigh.
“You’re Charlie Steele?” He takes the email and scans it, his face turning redder by the second. Finally he tears it in half and drops the pieces. “You lied about your name. I’m not hiring a woman.”
“Charlie is the name I’ve been going by since grade school,” I tell him, my tone one step shy of a snarl. “I didn’t lie. You offered me a job and I’m here. The law says-”
“The law can kiss my ass!” He steps towards me, fists clenched, and I see murder there. Behind him, even the receptionist looks worried.
“Is there a problem here?”
All the blood leaves my head in a rush, leaving me wobbly and faintly nauseous. I recognize that voice but…it can’t be. It just can’t be.
His eyes meet mine over Frank’s shoulder, damn, he’s tall, and his gaze widens by a fraction, then relaxes again. Shit. If he works here, I am so screwed. I’m never going to get this job.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he says, bending down and scooping the remains of Frank’s official job offer to me off the floor. He glances at the paper, then back at me. “Charlie Steele.”
I just about force myself to smile at him. Oh God, please don’t say anything else. This is already not going well. Which is to say, it’s going almost exactly as I thought it would, except Frank doesn’t look like he’s backing down any time soon.
Speaking of Frank, I finally refocus on him, only to see him backing up.
“You know her?” He asks the newcomer, and I wait for the axe to fall.
“Yeah, Frank. Brilliant mechanic. Good hire. Exactly what Brent Classics is looking for.” He looks over at me. “I’m Leo Brent, by the way. The owner of the company. The locker room’s through there. Just pick a locker and it’s yours.”
“But Boss...” Frank starts, but stops when Leo drops a hand the size of a trunk lid on his shoulder.
“Her references are excellent, Frank. I’ve seen them all. Like I said, she’s a good hire. Give her a week and I’m sure she’ll prove it to you, too.”
Frank looks at me and sneers. The angle means his boss can’t see it, but I can, and I know what it means. He’s going to do his damndest to get me to quit before my week is up, and when he does, I’ll be screwed. I doubt I’ll see a red cent from this guy of whatever pay I’ve earned, and I’ll be out of job. Again. Without even the cash for fuel to move on.
Leo turns and heads back into the garage and I follow him, except that Frank grabs my arm in a bruising grip and pulls me in close.
“He’s only here for a day, two at most,” he growls in my ear. “So don’t get comfortable, and just remember - anything you break comes out of your pay.”
Part of me is glad Leo isn’t sticking around. I don’t need a distraction like him. The ultra high def replay on loop in my head is bad enough. I need to focus on my work and not give Frank an excuse to fire me.
On the other hand, I know that the minute Leo leaves, I’ll be gone too. I don’t need to give Frank an excuse. He’ll find one, pull one right out of his ass if he has to.
My days here are numbered, and the numbers are one and two.
I hear the door open and close behind me and assume Frank has left until I hear a new voice.
“Hey, Max Deakin. I hear Leo’s in town. Can I see him? I’ve got a real emergency here.”
I turn to see a gorgeous hunk of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, the kind women just fall into worldwide. The receptionist is just staring at him, jaw on the floor, but the wedding ring on his finger tells me she’s shit out of luck.
When she fails to pull herself together after a very awkward minute, I smile at him. “I’ll go get him for you.”
I head across the garage, spotting the locker room in the back and dumping my stuff into the locker that smells the least, before going in search of Leo.
Leo. The name of the man who- I shut down that line of thought. No distractions, remember? This is too important.
I spot another door. This one’s closed but the word ‘Office’ on it seems like a good possibility for the owner of the company. I knock.
“Mr. Brent? There’s a Mr. Deakin in reception asking for you.”
The door opens just as I finish speaking and I jump backwards in surprise. I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to how tall he is. Not that I want to. I’m not getting used to anything about this guy. He’s leaving in forty-eight hours, at the outside, and my job depends on me ignoring him as much as possible.
I can do it. Hell, I’ve managed co-workers for an entire week before, particularly the creepy ones. I’ve got this.
“Thanks, Charlie.”
Is it my imagination or is he lingering over my name? No, it’s my imagination. It’s got to be. I can’t afford for it to be anything else.
I back up and wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just stands there, with a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I can’t help getting drawn into his gaze, but then I remember where I am and what’s at stake and I tear my eyes away, ducking my head and pointing to reception. A moment later, he sighs and I hear him moving away. I lift my head and watch him head back to reception. A moment later, for lack of anything better to do, I follow him. It’s not like there are any cars to be worked on at the moment. The garage is echoingly empty.
I catch the door just before it closes behind him and watch him greet the client like an old friend.
“Max! My man! How are you? How’s married life treating you?”
Max grins and the receptionist gives a strangled moan. I don’t blame her. It’s a panty-melter of a smile, or it should be. For some reason, I don’t feel a thing.
“All good, Leo, and my girl’s doing just fine.”
“Still forcing you to binge watch Supernatural on the weekends?”
“Hey, the rewards outweigh the struggle. Anyway, that’s kind of why I’m here.”
Leo looks confused. “You need sanctuary from Supernatural?”
“No, you asshole. I finally found her dream car, a black 1967 Chevy Impala, just like they drive in the series. There’s just a small issue and I know you’re the man to help.”
Leo spreads his hands. “Classic cars is what we do. How can I help?”
“Someone wrapped it around a light pole on the freeway. I bought the pieces and I want to give her an actual functioning car for her birthday.”
Leo nods. “No problem. Where is it? We can go pick it up.”
Max gestures towards the door. “No need.”
He leads the way outside and sure enough
, a flatbed is parked in the lot outside, bearing the crumpled remains of what used to be a Chevy Impala.
“Wow.” Leo regards the mess for a moment. “How fast were they going?”
“About ninety-five miles an hour.”
Leo blows out a breath, then shakes his head. “Well, yeah, we can do it. Of course we can. It’s going to take a while, though.”
Max winces. “That’s the other problem.”
Leo gives him a sideways look, then turns to face him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“You know I love you like a brother, right?”
“Max,” Leo says, in a warning tone.
“Fine. Her birthday’s in three weeks.”
Leo’s face goes slack, just for a second, then he recovers. “So, to be clear, you want us to turn that,” he gestures to the ruins of the Impala, “back into an actual car in three weeks?”
“Yup.”
“Max. My man. That’s six months’ work. At least.”
Max doesn’t say anything, just stares at him. Leo narrows his eyes, then shakes his head and throws up his hands.
“Fine. But I can’t guarantee it for three weeks. It may take a little longer.”
“I’m taking her away on a cruise. If I can’t give it to her before that, I need it to be there as soon as we arrive.”
Leo sighs. “Fine. Be happy. We’ll bring you back a car. And it’s gonna cost you.”
Max laughs. “Of course. Good work always costs, man.”
He shakes hands with Leo and leaves in a brand new, dark blue Maserati. Leo watches him go, then turns to Frank.
“You’d better get everyone in. I don’t why you’re running on a skeleton staff right now, but we need all hands on deck.”
For a moment, Frank looks like a deer caught in headlights - pale and ready to run. Then he pulls himself together. “This is everyone.”
Leo stares at him. He looks around. There’s a grand total of five people standing in the parking lot, and one of them’s Sheila, who I’m pretty sure wouldn’t know a piston valve if it hit her in the head.
“What do you mean, ‘this is everyone’?”
Frank spreads his hands in a helpless gesture that nonetheless seems tinged with a smug edge. “I mean, this is everyone. I told you, business has been bad lately. I had to let a lot of people go.”
Leo eyes him, a shark sizing up a squid. “You laid off fourteen people in the last three months?”
Beside me, Julio makes a small sound and I look over to see him wearing a very confused expression. Leo, laser-focused on Frank, doesn’t notice.
Frank shrugged. “I hated doing it, but, business is business, right? I was just trying to keep the old man’s flagship shop open. But I don’t know how we can pull off a job like this with just two guys.” His gaze lands on me and his mouth twists. “And her.”
Leo’s face darkens like the sky over a NASCAR track on race day, then he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and places a call.
“Lisa, it’s me. Pause my schedule. I’m needed here. Three weeks, maybe four. Yes, it’s necessary, it’s an emergency.”
He hangs up, then turns to the rest of us, gesturing at me. “First things first, this is Charlie, your newest colleague. She’s an excellent mechanic. Secondly, I’m really glad Frank just hired her because this,” he gestures at the car corpse on the flat bed, “is really important, and I don’t have to tell you all how much work it’s going to be. It’s a good thing you don’t have many clients right now, Frank. This is going to be a round the clock job for the next three weeks. For four mechanics. So I’ll be paying double overtime.”
Julio whistles under his breath. I stare. Sheila looks shellshocked, then pissed, as she realizes we probably won’t need a receptionist all night so she’s not going to benefit from this emergency arrangement.
Leo looks over at her. “If you want some extra hours, feel free to stick around. We’ll need coffee and takeout to keep us fuelled. I’ll pay you the same overtime rate.”
Her face clears and I swear little stars shine out of her eyes. Pretty sure someone’s nursing a massive crush.
Like you? murmurs the irritating little inner voice that knows me too damn well.
Nope, I tell myself. No crush here. I am a crush-free zone.
Frank blinks, then interrupts my internal cruise on the USS Denial. “You’re helping us out?”
Leo gives him a look which makes me wince. “Of course. I can do more than push paper around a desk, you know. It’s been too long since I got my hands under the hood.”
His gaze falls on me while I’m still trying to wrench my brain away from memories of his hands under my hood.
“I’m looking forward to working with you all. I’ve been sitting in an office for far too long. It’s going to be great getting to know everyone.”
His gaze moves on, but I feel like his eyes are still on me, boring into me, seeing exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m remembering.
And then it hits me. Three weeks. Maybe four. With him. Getting dirty. Covered in oil...
On the plus side, Frank can’t fire me until Leo leaves. That’s four weeks pay. Probably enough to get me to another job, especially when you factor in the massive amounts of overtime that will be necessary to pull off this restoration in time for Nash’s deadline.
On the down side, how the fuck am I going to ignore him for a month?
***
Leo
Something isn’t adding up about Frank’s story, but I don’t have time to figure it out right now. With four mechanics instead of the fifteen I thought he had here, this job just got a whole lot tougher, but my pride refuses to let me even consider reneging on the deal. I said we’d have the car ready in a month, and we will. We may not sleep much, but the car will be damn well ready.
“Right. Let’s get this thing into the shop and see what we’re dealing with.”
The flat bed driver backs into the shop and we carefully maneuver the remains of the Impala onto the floor. Then we all stand back and take in the destruction.
Not a single panel has survived unscathed. The engine is halfway into the cab. Sourcing parts for this thing is going to be a bitch. The panel beating alone is going to take weeks. I shake my head, then clap my hands to get everyone’s attention. Julio jumps.
I suppress a frown. I’m pretty sure the kid’s on drugs. I haven’t seen him taking anything, but he’s pale and nervous. It occurs to me he might be undocumented, but right now, I can’t afford to worry about that. We need all the hands we can get right now, and if Frank kept him on, out of everyone he had here three months ago, he clearly knows his stuff.
“Frank, Julio, start prepping the panels for beating. Charlie, with me.”
She doesn’t look happy at being singled out, and I don’t miss the glare Frank sends her way, but I want to know what her knowledge is like on this particular car. I know her Mustang knowledge is above and beyond, but what about Impalas?
And maybe I just want to smell her intoxicating scent again, but at least I’ve got a genuine reason for getting her close to me.
“We need to check out the engine,” I tell her as I lead her around to the front of the car. “Clearly we’re going to need replacement parts and I want to start there.”
She nods and helps me carefully lift the hood, which is folded practically in two from where it hit the light pole. She shakes her head at the damage and I feel that warm sensation you get when you connect with someone.
“It’s a tragedy, isn’t it?”
She smiles and nods, but her eyes won’t quite meet mine. I deliberately reach across her to wedge the hood open with a wrench, just in case the springs are too damaged to hold it up. Ninety pounds of crumpled steel crashing down on our heads would definitely leave a mark.
She stares at the engine, which is remarkably intact in some areas, but completely destroyed towards the front. I open my mouth, thinking she’s waiting for instructions, then freeze as she rattles off a lo
ng list of parts.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She gives me a look that suggests maybe the hood did fall on my head after all, because I’m not making sense.
“The parts we need. I mean, I can’t see all the damage from here, obviously, but considering the nature of the visible damage...”
I stare at her for a moment as my cock starts to swell, then pull myself together and try to think cold thoughts. The fact she can tell all that just from looking is hot as hell, but I can’t exactly fuck her up against the wall.
Of course, the moment I think that, that’s all I can think about, and I curse under my breath and turn away to find a garage creeper. I pull myself under the car and pray my hard-on goes down some time in the next week.
