Mechanic with Benefits

by Mickey Miller

  “Okay, man. Well, it doesn’t take a Two-hundred thousand dollar degree to figure out what’s going on with you. I don’t know what this girl—what was her name? Haley?—did to you. But she fucked you up as bad as that girl from back when.”

  I nod. “This was her sister.”

  Cole damn near spits out his drink. “Her sister was the one you ran into late in the mechanic’s shop? So you’ve hooked up with two sisters.”

  I nod. Cole scratches his head.

  “Shit. I thought I did some shit, hooking up with the daughter of the Dean of Blackwell University. You, Sir, just might have outdone me.”

  “Hey.” I shrug. “At least I got to keep my job.”

  Cole clenches his jaw. “Dude. Too soon. Much too soon.”

  “You know, you can always come work at the mechanic shop if you want. We could use a Harvard grad.” I wink.

  “I just can’t believe it’s come to this. But I might take you up on that. I’ve been picking up some MMA classes at the gym that they let me teach, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

  “I hear that man. Well, I saw they are hiring down the street at Nancy’s diner. I’m sure they could use a bus boy.”

  Cole chuckles, ever the good natured guy. “Dude, if I didn’t know you so well, I’d be punching you in the face right about now.”

  “Well you do.” I say with a chuckle, smirking.

  Mason finds his way back to us. “Alright well, you guys want to head out? I trained the little hostess to pour drinks for the rest of the night.”

  “By ‘little hostess,’ do you mean ‘my sister?’

  Mason rubs his cheek with his thumb.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Hm. Okay. You don’t know her name?”

  Shit is getting awkward between the two of them. And I’m the only one who knows why.

  I’m ninety percent sure Mason is hooking up with Cole’s little sister.

  I interject, breaking the tension. “It’s midnight, so we are past peak time here. And I’m starved. You want to hit up Nancy’s diner?”

  “Yes, definitely!” Mason gratefully says. “I love Nancy’s.”

  “And that’s perfect, because ol’ Harvard here is going to pick up an application.”

  Cole punches me in the arm. “I swear to God, Liam. You’re gonna get it one of these days.”

  “Oww.” I mouth, rubbing my arm and feigning like he hurt me. “Who is the new bartender by the way, Mason? She’s cute.”

  “Dude,” Cole says, grabbing my shirt. “That’s my fucking sister. Were you not paying attention?”

  “Oh.” I wink, and put my hands up. “Too far. My bad.” Right as I speak, Clarissa files into the bar behind Mason. “Hi Clarissa.”

  “Hi Liam,” she drawls.

  “Thanks for taking over for the big guy here so we grab some food,” I say, nodding toward Mason.

  “Oh, it’s alright.” She says, rubbing Mason’s back. “I know how our star mixologist gets when he is on his feet all day.”

  Cole glares at Mason, and then at Clarissa. I would do the same if I had a sister who were rubbing my good buddy’s back like that. I might have to raise the odds of them hooking up to one hundred percent.

  But I’ve pushed Cole far enough tonight. As much of an asshole as I am, I know when to keep my damn mouth shut.

  And when you suspect your buddy may be hooking up with your other buddy’s little sister, that is just one of the times you bite your tongue.

  “Let me close out my tabs and I’ll be ready.” Mason says. Clarissa gets busy at the bar, and damn, she is going to get some tips tonight. Her flirting game is strong.

  Cole whips out his phone, probably texting his girlfriend. I think about taking mine out, but who would I text?

  Instead, I fist my drink and gaze into the numerous bottles of alcohol behind it.

  The past few weeks have been monotonous, but worse than that, just about everything that happens sets me off. At work, I’m a cannon waiting to be unleashed.

  Asshole Liam is back in full force.

  I guess I’ve always been an asshole. After I had some time to process the whole ‘Haley and me’ thing, I found it ironic that she’s softened me by loving how much of a dick I was. Anytime I went too far—in the bedroom, or in general, she’d say ‘yes, and I can one up you.’

  I can be dirtier than you are, she’d say. And damn, did she live up to it. I smile a little, thinking of the nickname I gave her from day one.

  Dagny—the dirty ass girl from New York—was as accurate a name as I’ve ever given someone. I wonder what she’s doing now? I hope she’s happy, whatever it is.

  A baseball game flashes on TV, and my eyes move up to the big screen. The Chicago Jaguars are playing in New York tonight, and of course that cocky bastard Jake Napleton is on the mound for the Jags.

  I wonder if Haley has ever been to a Yankee’s game. I’d love to take her to one if she hasn’t. What if I just drive to New York and pop in? She can’t say no to me once I’m there, right?

  My heart starts racing, even just at the thought of heading to New York. It’s crazy, but shit, who in this damn town is crazier than me?

  Finally Mason closes out his tabs, and we head out of the bar to Nancy’s Diner, just down the street. Mason and Cole are saying some things as they walk slightly ahead, but I’m too far in my own head to hear them, already planning my trip to New York.

  Sure, I may be crazy. But it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me out on having an insane plan. And it wouldn’t be so hard. What the hell do I have to lose?

  Why didn’t I think of this earlier?

  We file into Nancy’s diner, get a booth with a table for three.

  A smile spreads across my face from ear to ear.

  “What the hell’s gotten into you?” Mason asks, furrowing his brow from across the table. “You look like you either just won the lottery, or maybe just got out of jail. I’m guessing it’s the first, so you know I want a few hundred bones.”

  “Just a few hundred?” I wink.

  “Seriously. What are you thinking about?”

  There comes a time in every man’s life when he has his Good Will Hunting moment: Where you stop whatever you’re doing, and you just know, you ‘gotta go see about a girl.’

  I get up from the table, still with that same shit-eating grin on my face.

  “What are you doing man? You alright?” Cole asks. “I mean I know sausage and pancakes for dinner is your favorite, and it’s even better at midnight, but usually you don’t get this excited.”

  I take a deep breath and get ready to unleash something on these guys. Cole risked his career to be with his love. He’ll understand.

  “I’m going to fucking New York!!” I boom, full confidence in my voice.

  Mason’s jaw drops. Cole just nods and bites his lip a little. “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” I admit. “It’s the girl.”

  “Ha! I knew it!” Cole gloats, slamming his hand on the table.

  “Well, are you going to leave right fucking now? Or are you going to have some pancakes and finally tell us about this broad?” Mason asks. “You’ve barely said shit about her since you’ve been back.”

  I nod whimsically. I don’t know where to start about Haley. How I like her soft voice, her pretty eyes, or maybe just keep it classy and talk about how great we are at fucking together.

  And then our waitress’s eyes catch mine as she walks toward us with a jug of water.

  She’s fucking gorgeous. Blue eyes, red hair done up in a bun.

  Jeans and blue shirt, apron and above all, her scent is intoxicating. Her breasts basically pop out of her top. Am I crazy, or have those things gotten bigger in the last months since I’ve seen her? Clearly she is using those cocktailing instincts to get some solid tips.

  “Hi boys.” She drawls. “Y’all need any coffees or orange juice with this water?”

  And my night just got a
lot crazier.

  I guess I don’t have to go to New York after all.

  Haley Rosebaum, my Dagny, stands right in front of me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Haley

  My heart pitter patters like I’ve just reached the top of the roller coaster and now I’m ready to be weightless, but I have no idea which way the thing is going to turn, or even if I’ll make it through.

  Liam stands less than a foot from me, his manly musk sending chills that reverberate through my entire body. His beard is more than a couple days old, and although I know he’s not, it looks as though he’s flexing his jaw in my direction.

  His body is like the earth, and I’m the moon. I can feel his gravitational force pulling me toward him, but I need to resist. Once I get pulled back in, there’s no telling what I’ll do.

  Without taking his eyes off me, he sits back down. I hand out the menus and he doesn’t break eye contact with me, as if I’ll disappear if he does.

  “Y’all have been here before, I’m assuming?” I say.

  “Yeah.” Liam’s friend on the other side of the booth smirks. “We’ve been here before. Wish I could say the same for you. We would have noticed if you’ve been here before.” He winks at me. It’s not quite a come on, but it’s not not a flirtatious move.

  For the first time, Liam takes his eyes off me, and it’s to shoot his friend a look so hard, I’m pretty sure it could make some men pee their pants.

  “This is Haley,” Liam finally says, desperation in his eyes. “Haley, these are my friends Mason and Cole.”

  “Thought you said she was in New York?” Cole says. “What’s she doing here?”

  Liam glances up at me with his brown-amber eyes, and it’s a look of need and desperation, as if he, too, is searching for an answer. “I don’t know.” He drawls with a shrug, and the slightest hint of a smile. “I was about to ask the same thing.”

  I should have known this was going to happen.

  Did I expect to move to the same tiny town as him and never see Liam?

  “I just needed a change.” I say with a polite smile, which is true. I don’t have to get into detail about how I’m working here nights, while I work as a live in nanny with a family, to save up ten thousand dollars to buy a corner property and start my own restaurant.

  And after just a couple of weeks of saving, I’ve already saved almost two grand. Not too shabby.

  “So what are y’all having tonight?”

  “You say ‘y’all?’” Cole, the dark haired one with shorter hair says. “But you’re from New York. What gives?”

  “I’m originally from Boone, in the mountains. Lived there till I was twelve. Once I moved back here, I just picked it back up I guess.” I wink. “After the first three days of working here, I realized real quick I didn’t want to have the ‘why-are-you-in-Blackwell-when-you’re-from-New-York’ conversation with every single table. Y’all are so curious about outsiders coming here. So I adapted real quick. Anyways, y’all gonna order, or are you just gonna give me the third degree? I’ve got other tables who are waiting.”

  I nod toward a couple of other tables who are giving me the ‘why have you been talking to one table for five minutes?’ glare.

  They all know what they want from memory, without having to even look at the menu. As I punch their order into the computer touch screen, I glance at the three of them. The two guys on the other side of the table are incredibly animated as they explain something to Liam.

  I know they’re talking about me. They have to be.

  I attend to my other tables, smiling and nodding and running through the motions. Luckily I’ve been a server so long, waiting tables is like breathing to me, because all of my mental reserves are focused on the tattooed, filthy mouthed mechanic in the corner booth.

  Maybe I was too tough on him about not disclosing his and my sister’s relationship. But I can’t go through life always knowing I was second best to someone, much less to my sister, who would throw that in my face for literally the rest of my life.

  So why is there a voice in my head rationalizing why it wouldn’t be a bad idea to spend just one more night with him?

  What harm could come from it?

  One more hour wrapped up in those arms.

  One more time with his mouth between my legs.

  One more day as Dagny, my sexually fulfilled alter-ego, the version of me that only Liam knows.

  “Miss? Miss?!” A female voice barks loudly at one of my tables as I pass by. “What’s taking my eggs so long? Are you farming them back there?”

  The rest of the table chuckles.

  I file her joke under ‘remind me never to say that when I’m eating in a restaurant.’

  “I’m honestly not sure. Let me go check in the kitchen and see what’s going on.” I say.

  “Please do. And make it snappy, will you?”

  I feel my blood pressure spike, and I glance up at the ceiling, toward the heavens. I want to grind my teeth.

  Booth five just upgraded themselves from bad jokers to grade A assholes.

  I take a deep breath and walk away from them, as much as I want to lay into them. I’m the newcomer here, and I can’t let one table cause me to blow my lid.

  Still, as I head to the kitchen window, my skin feels prickly with emotional release.

  “Hey, Sanchini, w-what’s the status on the Denver omelette for table five?” I say, my voice shaky.

  “I made that one ten minutes ago.”

  “W-well they are still waiting on one of their plates.”

  He palms himself in the face. “Oh shit, Jennifer grabbed a denver omelette because she had a screw-up. I’ll make it for you on the fly right now.”

  “Th-thanks Sanchini.”

  “No prob....hey are you alright?”

  “Yes.” I mutter. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re crying.” He points out.

  “I just don’t feel well.” I contend.

  “Fucking table five, eh? They got to you.”

  I didn’t think they did, but they must have affected me more than I first thought, because I gag a little bit, as though I’m going to throw up in my own mouth.

  “Yo, you making it, New York?” Sanchini reiterates. He’s second in charge for the graveyard shift to the floor manager.

  “No.” I wave him off. “I’ll be fine. I’ll make it. Just, let me go check on my other tables.”

  “Here, don’t forget to take these three plates.” He says, and I notice they are for Liam’s table. I take their plates and head to the corner booth.

  When I put everything down on the boys’ table, I smile politely, trying just to pretend Liam is any other customer.

  “Anything else I can get you three?”

  “I’m good,” Cole says. Mason and Cole arch their eyebrows across the table at him, as though Liam’s got something to say.

  “Thanks” is all he says, flashing those devilishly good eyebrows. I turn around, but he stops me with that buttery masculine voice of his. “Wait. I’m just wondering, how’ve you been?”

  I whip around, a major lump in my stomach. “I’ve been fine.” I say. “You know. Getting adjusted.”

  “You save up enough money for the place yet?” He squints at me. Damn, it’s like the man can read my soul like a book.

  “How’d you know that’s what I came here for?”

  He shrugs, holding his fork in his hand. “I don’t. Just a lucky guess. You don’t seem like the type of person who gives up on their dream easily. And you know what, neither am I.”

  He cuts away a piece of his pancakes and forks them into his mouth, staring at me all the while. “Miss. Miss!” I hear the woman from table five calling to me.

  “One minute!” I mutter, suddenly feeling weak. It’s as though Liam's’ gaze has sucked all the energy away from me.

  “Dude, stop staring at her.” Either Cole or Mason says to him firmly. I can’t tell which one. I feel light headed. Dizzy.

 
“Haley, are you okay?” I hear Liam’s fork clink down against his plate. I’m pretty sure the other table is mumbling something about talking to my manager.

  It must be the stress, because I feel another batch of something bubbling up in my stomach. I feel woozy.

  Liam rubs my back and I want to wave him off, but I let him because it feels good. Goddamn does it feel good. I flash back to the night at the wedding where I was spread out on my stomach while he properly drove his hands into my back with oils. One of the most erotic nights of my life.

  “I think I need to use the bathroom.” I say.

  “Come on.” Liam says, guiding me by the hips to the woman’s room. My vision is a little blurry. “You’re not okay.”

  “I know.” I say, swallowing. Trying to hold down whatever wants to come up.

  The bathroom only has the one toilet. “Haley, you don’t look good. Your face is totally flushed.”

  “I think I have to--” I take a couple of steps toward the toilet, kneel down, and manage to get most of the puke into the vessel.

  Liam doesn’t say a word. Instead, he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail, and holds it while my mascara runs, and I puke one more time. The tears come before, during, after, I don’t know any more. I feel so helpless and vulnerable.

  “I don’t want you to see me like this.” I say. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

  “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “I don’t know why I’m so sick.” I say.

  I kneel, for several minutes, teary-eyed, while Liam wraps his arm around my shoulder. He doesn’t say a word, which is good, because I don’t even know where I’d start with him.

  Finally, we stand up, and I wash up and we head back out onto the restaurant floor. Liam’s got his arm wrapped around me as we walk past the lady.

  “Hey! There you are! Where the hell have you been?! I need my omelette! You better get your manager, or I’m gonna call you out, by name, on my one star Yelp review.”

  Liam gives the lady at table five his icy clenched jaw death stare, and I’m pretty sure she instantly starts perspiring.

  I would too, if I didn’t know Liam. To someone who doesn’t know him, he’s just a jacked guy who’s covered in tattoos, who looks like he may or may not have done hard time.