Molly's Mr. Wrong

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Molly's Mr. Wrong Page 16

by Jeannie Watt


  “Not a big fan of temporary?”

  “When you move as many times as I did as a kid, one of two things happens—either you get really good at being temporary or you really resent it. My brother and sister were good at it.”

  “You resented it.”

  “When you’re shy, being uprooted every one to two years is not much fun.”

  “You stayed here three.”

  “We moved here so that my dad could put the big grocery store back on track. It took a year and a half and I begged him not to make me go with them on the next move. Offered to live with my best friend, Julie Faraday.”

  “Didn’t she—”

  “Move. Why yes, she did. Shooting that plan all to pieces. Anyway, Mom and Dad decided that Dad could commute to Spokane for the last year and a half while he worked on a department store there. So I got to go to most of high school in one place.”

  “What exactly did your dad do?”

  “He saves stores.” Molly set down her cup and did her best to explain her father’s occupation, which still had him on the road. “They’re in Alabama now. I think this might be one of his last consulting jobs, but he’s said that before.”

  “Do you like what you do, Molly? With the Dennys and the grading and all that?”

  Finn had obviously been spending some serious time thinking about his future and Molly considered her words carefully before she said, “I do. There are days, sometimes weeks, when I wish I’d become anything except a teacher, but...all in all, I like it. I feel good when most days are done. The Dennys...that part can be challenging. Staying tactful can be challenging.” And apparently she’d failed at the tactful part with Denny.

  “I worry about that,” Finn said matter-of-factly. “I might keep my patience for a while, but the Dennys of the world would wear me down.” He gave her a look. “I would break.”

  “It gets better with practice,” she said. “In the beginning...it can be rough. I won’t lie. You have to grow a thick skin.”

  “You have to learn to take crap from nitwits as near as I can tell.”

  Molly fought a smile, but it faded as she said, “Thinking of changing your career goal?”

  “Wondering about my aptitudes.” He gave her a humorless smile. “I hate wasting time.”

  “Education is never a waste of time.”

  He gave her a surprised look. “I...guess not.”

  “Tell me about Elaine and Mike.”

  Finn swirled his last bit of coffee but didn’t drink. “She has esophageal cancer. Mike has already lost my grandmother and my uncle, and he’s not ready to lose someone else.”

  “They haven’t been together for that long.”

  Finn considered for a moment. “Yeah. I know. If they were younger, I’d be concerned. But they know what they want.” He drained the last of his coffee. “Lucky.”

  Molly gave him her empty cup when he held out his hand and he took them both to the counter where the used cups were collected. “I need to get back to the store,” he said when he came back to the table. “Lola’s there, but Chase had to take the afternoon off. I don’t want Cal and Karl loading grain.”

  They started back to her office and after he’d opened the door to her building, Molly said as casually as possible, “About Chase...?” Finn gave her a curious look and she continued, “He and Georgina are getting kind of serious.”

  “I gathered.”

  “He’s a good kid, right?”

  “What do you think, Molly?”

  “You know him better than I do.”

  “He’s overcome some decent odds to get where he is today. I don’t see him going anywhere but up.”

  Not what she’d hoped to hear. Not even close. She wanted someone who was already “up” for Georgina. They rounded the corner leading to her office and before she could say anything else, Finn said, “You have a customer. A surly one from the looks of things.”

  Sure enough, Jonas was leaning against the display case opposite Molly’s office. And even though he was looking at her as if she was a lower life form, she knew for a fact that Jonas hadn’t given her a poor review because his class had been chosen for the second round of student evaluations.

  “Hi, Jonas. What can I do for you?” Molly asked, doing her best to sound positive.

  “Well,” he said in his overly precise voice. “You could be on time for your office hours.”

  Molly’s smile froze. So much for positive, but she told herself not to react, because that was what people like Jonas fed on, although it was a bit of a challenge to keep her composure when Jonas held up his phone, which read 16:05, and snapped, “Some of us have schedules to keep.”

  “And some of us need to learn to treat people with respect,” Finn growled. “She is your instructor.”

  Jonas’s gaze jerked toward Finn. “Who are you to give lessons in deportment?”

  “Your elder,” Finn said calmly, but when he turned to Molly to say goodbye, she could see the tension in his face. He was doing his best not to pop the kid and she appreciated his effort.

  “Do you want me to stay?” he asked. “I could hang here in the hall.”

  It took Molly a surprised second to say, “No. I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “You’re wasting time,” Jonas muttered.

  “And you’re a little...” Finn closed his mouth and after a quick look at Molly, headed down the hall.

  Jonas watched Finn go down the hall through narrowed eyes, then turned back to Molly, waiting with barely contained patience for her to open her door.

  She walked inside and took her time putting her purse away. Two could play the discomfort game. “What do you plan to major in when you go to college, Jonas?”

  He seemed surprised at the question. “I plan to be an electrical engineer.” He pulled yet another assignment out of his bag. “I have an issue with your marks on this essay.”

  “Have a seat, Jonas.”

  “I also have an issue with your condescending tone.”

  Molly’s eyebrows rose. “I have an issue with your rudeness and I suggest that until you can conduct yourself politely, you leave my office.” She might want to keep this job, and student evaluations might play a part in that, but there was also the small matter of self-respect.

  Jonas blinked at her. “You work for me.”

  “I work for the state of Montana, which pays me to give you an education. It doesn’t pay me to sit in my office while you take potshots at me.”

  “This is why I’m getting Bs, isn’t it? You don’t care for me.”

  “You’re getting Bs because you’re doing B work.”

  “I’m a high school student taking a college class.”

  “The grade of which will go on your college transcript. College. There will be no notation that you were a high school student at the time and got a break because of it.”

  “I bet he gets breaks.”

  Molly’s blood went cold. “Excuse me?”

  “I think you understand my meaning.” Jonas snatched the paper up from her desk and strode out of the room without a backward glance. Molly stared at the empty doorway, and then pressed her palm against her forehead. Finn wasn’t the only one who sometimes had difficulty keeping his cool. But this was her job and she wouldn’t let the Jonases of the world ruin it.

  * * *

  AFTER LEAVING MOLLY to deal with Jonas the mini asshole, Finn helped Lola close down the store, then picked up barbecue tri-tip, coleslaw and rolls at the local market and drove over to Mike’s place with his dinner. His grandfather was doing better. The shock had worn off and he was putting on a braver face. Buddy trotted along behind him, attacking his pant leg and his shoes, making Mike smile at a time when he probably didn’
t feel like smiling, and Finn knew in his heart that giving Mike full custody was the best move. Even though he was going to miss his little feline friend.

  “Are you coming to the store tomorrow?”

  “Probably. Elaine and I are going to lunch.” Mike met Finn’s gaze, his expression solemn, still a little bemused. “I kind of thought losing two people close to me was enough for one lifetime.”

  “I know.” Finn knew his grandfather meant two untimely losses and he didn’t bother with platitudes. “Just know that I’m here with you. And Dylan and Jolie will be back shortly. We’ll tackle this together.”

  “Thanks.” Mike bent down to scoop up Buddy and headed for his chair.

  “Are you staying for dinner?”

  “I ate a sandwich a little bit ago, but I’ll sit with you while you eat?”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not that hungry right now.”

  “But you will eat.”

  Mike gave him a weary nod. “Yes.”

  “You want me to stay and watch television with you?”

  “I want you to go home and work on your Ford.”

  Finn gave his grandfather a long look. “Go,” Mike repeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Finn headed out the door, doing his best to tamp down his frustration at the new difficulties his grandfather faced, at least until he was outside the house. As he walked down the steps, Molly approached the fence separating her property from Mike’s. She looked tired yet friendly. Amazing what a shared coffee could do.

  “Hey,” he said. “Did you beat that kid to a pulp?”

  “Did my best. He’s pretty bulletproof.” Molly gave him a dark smile but her face was still set in tense lines as she added, “His parents donated land to the school, you know.”

  “Very important people.”

  “Important people annoy me.” She dropped her hand from the top of the fence. How’s Mike?”

  “Doing okay.” Finn shifted his weight and glanced over Molly’s head at her house as he debated, then back at her. “You want to go beat some metal?”

  The look on her face made him feel like laughing. He managed not to.

  “That isn’t a euphemism for...anything? I mean...you’re not getting parking lot ideas again?”

  Now he did laugh. “I’m talking actual metal hammering.”

  “For what purpose?”

  He sauntered forward a step, closer to the fence, closer to Molly. Yes. He could smell what he now thought of as Molly scent. Sweet. A little floral. A little citrus. It made him want to bury his nose in her hair and breathe deeply. He’d probably get smacked in the process...

  “The purpose is to take out frustrations in a productive way.” He smiled a little at her wary expression. “You won’t know what I’m talking about until you’ve hammered out a dent.”

  “It’s therapeutic?”

  “Very.” He could think of only one thing that was more therapeutic and Molly wasn’t on board for that as near as he could tell—more’s the pity. He cocked his head. “Come on, Molly. Take a chance with a guy who lacks substance.”

  “You aren’t going to let that die.”

  “You struck a nerve.” Which was true. No one wanted to hear that they were just a pretty face.

  “I only meant that you weren’t right for my life plan.”

  “Maybe I’m not interested in being part of your life plan, so it’s a moot point.”

  “Ouch.”

  “But you’re relieved, aren’t you?”

  Molly cocked her head. “This is one strange conversation.”

  Finn jerked his head in the direction of his truck. “Coming?” She hesitated, so he added, “No kissing.” Her eyebrows went up at the candid promise. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Were you a Scout?”

  “Honor is honor. Come on.”

  * * *

  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

  Molly clutched the steering wheel a little tighter as she followed Finn’s truck into his driveway, then forced her fingers to relax.

  Living life on my own terms. Which was legit and part of her overall life plan.

  Don’t get burned. Also part of her life plan.

  Hammering metal shouldn’t get her burned. She and Finn could be friends, and she was certain that was now the direction they were heading in. They’d kissed and it had almost gotten away from them—a warning sign to both of them to not go there, to the point that Finn had made no kissing a condition of her visit. Or had he simply been trying to put her at ease?

  Whatever. She was here now and there would be no kissing...which kind of freed her up to enjoy the view as he led the way to his workshop.

  This tug between what was possible and what was logical was killing her.

  Finn opened the door and stood back as Molly stepped inside the shop, pausing to take in the brightly lit space. A pickup truck with its hood up dominated the center of the shop. Long workbenches and tool chests lined two of the walls, while machinery and racks of wood and metal took up the other two.

  “Oh my gosh.” Molly made her way past the big Ford truck to what could only be described as a monster standing next to the rear exit.

  “Frankie.”

  “Original name.” Molly grinned as she reached out to touch the intricate pattern of bolts that formed his hair. “You made this?”

  “I hated throwing away all the scrap. I could have sold it by the pound, but it was more fun turning it into Frank.”

  “And you have another one.” A smaller frame of a squat little creature stood a few feet away, on the opposite side of the welder.

  “As yet nameless. He will be shorter and lighter. I want to put him on the lawn for Halloween. I had similar plans for Frankie, but he wouldn’t be that stable on uneven ground. I don’t want to squish a passerby or anything.”

  “Never a good thing.”

  She looked around the shop, then back at Finn. “I like the way this place smells.”

  “It smells of grease, oil and fuel.”

  Molly shrugged. “Guess I’m a grease, oil and fuel kind of girl.” She was also still a touch nervous being there. No, not nervous. Self-conscious. Finn in his own environment was a bit overwhelming. Being in the shop seemed to double his Finn-ness, his basic masculinity, and parts of her were starting to pay close attention. Was it possible that she would never move past this physical connection? What had attracted her to him in high school before she’d known one thing about him, still attracted her, would possibly always attract her, despite logic and reason to the contrary. And there were viable reasons to the contrary.

  While she didn’t really think Finn lacked substance, she knew he’d never fit into the world she was building. The nice quiet world where everyone knew where their next paycheck was coming from, nobody spent too much time hanging in bars. Where careers were settled. Life was settled. Boring. Sedate. Wonderfully comfortable.

  Finn didn’t make her feel comfortable. He made her feel the way she’d felt when she first met Blake, and that was a red flag of ample proportions.

  “About that metalworking?”

  Finn jerked his head toward a bench with pieces of sheet metal on a rack nearby. “We’ll just do some practice hammering today.”

  “And if I’m good at it?”

  “I’ll put you to work. Double my production.”

  “Tempting, but I have enough on my plate. More now that my observation is coming up.”

  “Observation?” Finn took a smallish piece of sheet metal off the rack and took it to a disk-shaped piece of equipment sitting on a sturdy bench.

  “Part of my professional evaluation. I get observed once formally, several times informally. Two student evaluations. If I pass the first evaluation, then I get evaluated once every six
semesters.”

  Finn placed the metal next to the disk. “What happens if you don’t pass?”

  “That won’t happen.” Molly spoke automatically, because it wouldn’t happen. Even with a tiny ripple in the student evaluation area, she knew she was good at what she did. There was always room for improvement, but as far as the basics went, she had them down. “If it did happen—to someone else—they’re put on probation and have opportunities to remediate. Or they get fired.”

  “That would sting.”

  “Yes.” For a brief moment she teetered on the brink of telling him about the horrendous student review that was now in her file. She hadn’t told anyone, not even her sister, but to let it out...to have someone say, “One review? How could that possibly matter?” would make her feel better.

  She couldn’t do it.

  Finn picked up a pair of safety glasses large enough to cover her own glasses and instead of handing them to her, carefully slid them onto her face, then stood back to judge the effect. “You appear suitably bug-eyed.”

  “Always a goal of mine.” Not. It had been hell being the girl who wore glasses, but contact lenses bothered her. Finn grinned and then bent over to dig around in a bin beneath the bench, coming up with a thick pair of gloves.

  “Keep you from getting metal cuts.”

  Molly put on the gloves and held up her hands. “Awkward.”

  “You’ll be glad of them later. You come more often and I’ll see if I can dig up a pair that fits you.”

  “You think I’ll need to take out my frustrations often?”

  “Is Jonas your student?”

  “Point taken.” But she couldn’t see herself coming to Finn’s private lair all that much, not when she kept breathing just a little more deeply to draw in his scent. Bad Molly.

  Finn gestured toward an array of hammers, ball peens and some with odd flat heads. “This is a chasing hammer. Metal moves away from the area you pound, thinning.” He put the sheet of metal over the disk and started tapping away at the center and moving out. “As you hammer, you pretty much chase the metal as it thins and it shapes to the dolly, the form, that is.” He handed Molly the hammer.

  “Have at it.”

 

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