by Kate Swain
Fix the ledgers.
I dug through the pile of things on the desk and found the two books in which the brothers had been recording their income and expenses. I ran my finger down the columns briefly. No entries had been made in months, and even before that, there were obvious gaps. What a mess! Until I had organized the receipts and bank statements, I thought numbly, I wasn’t going to be able to make sense of anything in their books.
“So, here I am, organizing receipts first instead,” I said to myself, feeling amazed. I had never worked as a receptionist in my life! I hadn’t, if I thought about it, actually expected to get this job. But here I was. And I was determined to do it well.
Whatever the boss might think.
I started to sort through the clutter on the desk. Arranging things in order was something that came naturally to me. I had always been an organized person. As I piled receipts in one section, invoices in another, and schedule-pages in the third, I found my mind wandering back to the conversation with Boss-man.
He really had some nerve, speaking about me on the phone like that, and he hadn’t tried to hide it, either.
“Asshole,” I whispered under my breath.
I had never met somebody like that! He had to be the foulest, most-arrogant, rudest… most attractive man I’d met.
I felt annoyed at myself for the last thought. How could I be attracted to anybody with no manners? I was sure he was an absolute nightmare to work with—and be around. So why was it that, when I thought of him, I blushed?
You’re attracted to him. Be honest with yourself.
I knew I was. I also hated that fact. He was absolutely not the type I liked—at least, not in terms of character. In terms of looks, on the other hand, he was easily the sexiest thing I could have dreamed of imagining. Annoying. My Prince Charming apparently didn’t have white teeth and ride a thoroughbred horse: my idea of a handsome prince would have one gold tooth and ride a Harley.
Just like this man.
I blushed.
My thoughts came back to my work, and I realized that the organization part, at least, was finished. I had some nice, neat piles on the desk now, and that was a lot better than it had been when I’d got started. I looked at the pile of receipts. All I had to do now was to get them in order.
I was busy working when I heard somebody cough politely. I looked up.
“Hello? I thought you might want to know that we stop at twelve for lunch-break, then reopen at one.”
“Oh. Thanks, Matthew,” I replied.
The man grinned. “I’m Mark,” he said. “Matthew’s getting his lunch. He’ll be right back.”
“What?” I frowned. This was Matthew! He had the same pale brown hair, the same greenish eyes. When he smiled, I noticed he had a filling in his front tooth. Not Matthew, then. This was getting weird!
“Hey!” Matthew said from the door. “Have you found my pen?”
I stared. The two men were identical when they were seen separately. Together, though, it was possible to notice major differences. Matthew was a little thinner, and his face had a softer, more tender expression. Mark was more built, and his eyes had a certain boldness.
“Hi, guys,” I said uncertainly.
“Hey,” Mark said. “It’s standard practice, us scaring the hell out of new co-workers.”
“It’s always his idea,” Matthew said.
His brother chuckled and elbowed him. “Yeah? Who was it who said he’d go and hide while I came in to tell our new receptionist about lunchtime?”
Matthew laughed. “Okay, I confess. We had to.”
Laughing delightedly, I held out my hand to the brother I hadn’t met yet. “Hi, Mark. I’m Amelia.”
“Hi, Amelia,” he said. He squeezed my hand warmly, and I saw a twinkle in his eye. He seemed to be more playful than Matthew, who struck me as a quieter type. I smiled back.
“Nice to meet you.”
I sat down again, and Mark chuckled.
“See you around,” he said. “We usually have lunch on-site. In the yard, on nice days. Like this one.”
“Great,” I said. “I’ll join you now.”
They were chuckling as they went out, and Mark clapped Matthew on the back. Evidently, playing tricks on people was something that had not lost its appeal, no matter their age.
I couldn’t help smiling.
As I tidied up the last of the clutter on the desk, planning to tackle the rest of the receipts after lunchtime, it occurred to me that I had nothing to eat. I had not, after all, planned on being employed today. I felt my stomach twitch with hunger, and I realized that I had to do something about the situation before I lost all ability to think straight.
I wandered out into the shop.
“Miss!” A young man said. His eyes were round with surprise and a certain appreciation that, in spite of myself, I appreciated. I smiled.
“Hello,” I said. He wasn’t one of the mechanics I’d met. He was a thinner, pale-blond man where the other Brands were stockier and had the same pale brown hair, touched with blond in the sunlight. This guy gave me a nervous smile. He seemed younger than Matt or Mark, though that might have been his manner.
“Hi,” he replied. “Um… can I help you? Reception’s that way.”
I grinned, and a voice spoke from behind me.
“She’s just come from there!” Matthew laughed as he walked up behind us. “She’s working here.”
“Really?” The tall young man stared at me, and I had to laugh.
“It’s not so strange, is it? I mean, somebody has to take calls around here,” I said to him with a sweet smile.
“Oh!” the young man looked relieved. “You’re the secretary! Hi! Welcome.”
“She’s the receptionist, Adam,” Mark said, coming in from outside with an oily rag in one hand. “And this guy is Adam Barnes, Amelia,” he finished, fixing Adam with a firm stare.
“Hi,” he said again. He held out his hand nervously.
I shook it. “Amelia Rose,” I said firmly. His hand was also surprisingly strong, though nothing like that of the boss. I steeled my thoughts against visiting thoughts of him. He was none of my business.
“We’re just heading out to the store,” Matthew said. I was already starting to notice differences between his twin brother and him. Not only were they dressed differently, but their faces were subtly and noticeably different. This difference reflected, I thought, their unique personalities. Matthew was sweet and quiet, and Mark had a lively, almost bad boy character.
“There’s a store nearby?” I was genuinely surprised. When I had walked to the shop this morning, I had not noticed anything except parking lots and abandoned, run-down buildings.
Mark laughed. “It is a surprise, I guess. But there’s a store around the corner. We always go there. Us, and the guys from the warehouse. I think we’re about all the people who ever go there.”
“Probably. Have you ever seen anybody else eating sandwiches like the ones we ate yesterday?”
I had to laugh as Mark launched himself at his brother and cuffed the back of his head. Matthew gave a playful yell. Adam was laughing as the two young men, still horsing around, walked out through the door. I followed them out, thinking they had forgotten about me, but Matthew turned around and waved at me to join them.
“Come on… it’s not really that bad. They have some stuff in packets there that isn’t actually poisonous.”
Mark gave me a winning grin. “Say, you have some money, right?”
I nodded, touched to see both Matthew and Mark reaching into their pockets to suggest they would cover my lunch. “Thanks, guys. It’s okay,” I said softly as I pointed to my purse.
As I followed the three men outside and across the parking lot, I was surprised to find that my eyes were a little misty. I really was moved by their generosity. Not just because it looked like they had very little money of their own to spare, but because they were being genuinely nice. Why was their older brother so rude? I thought s
omewhat sadly.
I hope I do not have to see him too often.
I wondered if he also went to the store to buy some lunch, or if he made his own arrangements. Maybe he didn’t eat human food. What did Incredible Hulks eat?
I wanted to laugh. I glanced around and noticed Matt, Mark, and Adam were getting ahead of me. I half-ran to catch up to them, looking around at the shop as I saw a silhouette in the doorway. Was it him?
“Hey, Amelia. You look stressed,” Mark said.
“Not really,” I replied. “Just wondering if the boss is going to join us?”
“Oh! Carter?” Mark chuckled.
“We won’t tell him you called him the boss,” Matthew added.
“No. His head’s too big as it is,” Mark chuckled.
I wanted to laugh, but I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate—after all, I wasn’t family. Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Adam grinned.
“It’s not easy, thinking of him as the boss. He’s one of us, see.”
I nodded, but inside I was far from sure. I followed them into the store. I could see that all of them were very at home here, and they all clearly had a strong working relationship with Carter. I myself saw his arrogance. And his dismissiveness. And I didn’t like those qualities in anybody.
We ate our sandwiches in the sunshine in the yard by the wall. After lunch, we went inside to resume our work. I could still taste the tomato and cheese from the sandwich I’d eaten. I was already starting to feel at home here.
“Amelia?” a voice said from outside the door. I tensed up.
“Yes?” I answered.
“Could you check this letter?”
I frowned. He looked away uncomfortably. “What is it?” I asked. I guess editing his correspondence was another one of my job duties.
“It’s a request,” he said, still not meeting my gaze. “For a spare part.”
“You have to request them?” I asked, somewhat surprised. Why did he not just fill out a form, or order them over the Internet?
“Well, this one’s a special one.” He waved the letter, typed out, in front of me. “Read it. You’ll see what I mean.”
“Fine,” I said, taking the piece of paper. “It would be easier to correct it if I knew why you had to write it.”
He shot me a look as if I had asked him for a raise, and then he turned around and walked out.
I sighed. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to do my job if he refused to even communicate with me?
I read through the letter and made some minor corrections in red ink. Then I left the letter on the edge of the desk and ignored it, which felt good. Correcting it was revenge enough for his rudeness all day, and I should be getting on with logging the receipts in the ledger, which was a complete mess. How they had managed to stay in business, I had no idea!
“You’d think that a sensible person would have sorted this out ages ago,” I murmured under my breath.
It was chaos!
I opened a drawer in the desk, and a flood of papers spilled out. I swore.
“Shit! What the hell is this stuff?”
“Have you checked the letter?” Carter called.
I looked at him. I was standing behind the desk, a mish-mash of papers covering the floor, and his “important” letter on my desk. I was clearly busy with something more urgent right now. I wanted to ask him what the heck he thought I was doing in here. I was a receptionist, not a personal assistant! But I didn’t say a word.
“Oh. Is it there?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks.” He took it off the desk and walked out. I saw him reading over my corrections. He was standing with his back to me, but I fancied I saw him straighten up, and a frown on his brow. I smiled.
After the interruption, I began tidying up. I bent down and lifted the handfuls of receipts and other records and stuffed them back into the second drawer, where they’d come out. After a moment of thought, I took them all out again, reaching for a box to put them in. I would have to start a new rule. All purchase of parts would be logged, and the bills stored in this box for confirmation. They would no longer be shoving them into a drawer and forgetting about them. I was going to introduce some organization around here.
I arranged the receipts in order, so that, when it came to sorting out things at the end of the month, it would be easier.
“Amelia?” Adam appeared in the doorway, looking nervous.
“Yes?” I asked. I looked up from the box of bills on my desk, noticing that my neck hurt. It also seemed a little darker in the room, which was a surprise. No wonder my eyes hurt.
“Do you have a pen?”
“Sure,” I said, passing him a pen. I felt exhausted.
“Thanks.”
He took the pen and leaned on the doorframe, signing something. He handed it back. “It’s six o’clock,” he said.
“It is?” I jumped up. That was a surprise! I stretched my back. How long had I been working? I looked down at the desk.
The receipts were in a pile. The ledgers were up to date. The bills were in their box, and I had answered the phone three more times, following the first call.
“Not bad,” I said to myself, as Adam headed off to the yard.
I was almost finished on my first day, and I had already accomplished plenty. I leaned back against the wall with a satisfied smile. Yes, I had managed to do something after all.
“Amelia?” Matt’s voice said from the doorway. I turned to face him.
“Yes?” I asked.
“We’re going to start tidying up. There aren’t any more jobs today, yeah?”
I checked down the schedule. No, there was nothing scheduled today. “Nothing,” I answered, feeling surprised that the guys were already asking me.
When he had gone, I did some final tidying up and then went through to the work area. Matthew was pulling a piece of equipment across the floor; Mark was polishing something. Adam had a wrench and pliers that he was storing on the desk in the corner.
“Amelia!” Mark waved happily. “Want to come and help?”
“You’ve already tidied the office,” Matthew said. “I saw it! You can see the desk now, which is a major improvement.”
Mark laughed. “There’s a desk in there? I thought it was a receipt monster.”
“What the hell is a receipt monster?” Adam asked.
“It’s the thing that comes and gets you a month before you hand in your taxes.”
They were all still laughing as I walked carefully across the floor to the other side of the shop. I had meant to head to the yard to get fresh air when a glint of damp fluid caught my eye. Wet paint.
A bike stood in the shadows by the door. Black, it had been painted with silvery details, the chrome lovingly polished.
“It’s what we worked on for most of the day,” Matt said, coming up to stand behind me. “It’s great, eh?”
“It is,” I agreed.
“You seem to like bikes,” Matthew observed. “I heard you on the phone. Sorry, I didn’t mean to listen. I just couldn’t help noticing that when you ask questions, it seems like you know what you’re talking about.”
I smiled. “I’m glad, but I assure you I don’t.”
“You know about how much time different repairs take. I know you do,” Matthew insisted.
I sighed. “I know a bit about some repairs,” I said. “My dad was into bikes, and then one of my mom’s exes—one of the few nice ones—taught me the basics.”
“Wow,” Matthew whistled. I blushed.
“I really don’t know much,” I demurred.
“But you know something,” Matthew insisted, “and that’s pretty good.”
I went red and tried not to show it. “I guess that I kind of have to, right?” I said shyly.
“Not really. But it helps. A lot. I guess you must have ridden a lot of bikes too?” he asked, sounding interested.
At that point, I heard a floorboard creak. I tried not to turn around, b
ut I had a sense that somebody was standing behind us, listening to us. I didn’t turn to look, but I felt a chill run down my spine, and I knew somebody was listening.
“No,” I said self-consciously. “I actually never climbed on one before. I was always too scared. But I love the sound they make.” I grinned, unable to hide my excitement about the topic.
“Really?” Matt smiled. “Well, you’ll hear that often around here.”
I smiled. “I’m glad to be here, then.”
“It’s good to have you here.”
“Thanks, Matt,” I said fondly. I blushed.
As I was turning away from him, going back to the office, I noticed a shadow in the small patch of space between my office and the actual workplace where we stood. Carter was there. He watched us.
I felt a flush of embarrassment creep into my face. What was he doing, lurking there? What did he hear me say?
Feeling acutely self-conscious, like a schoolgirl, I walked past him into my office, wondering with a delicious hope if he’d been looking at me. That thought was somehow pleasant and annoying. I looked down at the desk, fighting the conflict of feelings inside me.
As I saw him walk past the door, the feeling of annoyance won over the strange excitement inside me. I slammed my purse down on the desk, grabbed my coat, and marched to the door.
It was only when I reached the door that I realized I didn’t have a car. It was pitch-dark out there. And I was going to have to walk.
I took a deep breath, buckled up my coat, and started walking.
5
Carter
I was out in the parts room, swearing at a particularly unwieldy engine that refused to fit in the shelf when I realized something. Why was I so pissed off?
I put the engine down and took a deep breath. It should have been a day when the burden of worry and annoyance I usually carried was lighter than normal. After all, I’d hired a receptionist, we had new orders and work, and things were looking up around here. There was, though, constant anger seething under the surface of my skin. Or, not so much anger—more like discomfort.
It’s her. The new hire.
