Boy Issues - Morticia Knight Page 0,25

to Carl about money. Not that he had any issues confronting him about costs, but the fact that he would come unglued whenever something cost more than a few bucks. Silver hadn’t decided if it was because Carl was acting as if he were still paying seventies prices, or if he was just the stingiest bastard who’d ever lived.

The phone hadn’t even finished ringing once when Carl barked out an answer.

“Yeah? What is it? I’m headed out the door.”

Silver rolled his eyes since his boss couldn’t see him do it. “I have an update on the Morgan. I’ve located the majority of the engine components, the steering wheel and Vinny says he’s got a guy who can straighten and re-chrome the bumper. So, I can at least get the restoration underway with that much.”

“Uh huh. What am I looking at in terms of cost?”

“All told, it should be around ten grand this first round. That’s a steal. I talked Vinny down to three on the bumper alone. He’d originally wanted four.”

“Vinny’s a thief and you know it! Tell him you’ll give him two and not a penny more.”

Silver pressed his lips together and forced himself to remain calm. “I’m sorry, Carl. But I can’t do that. Vinny said he was firm at four, but based on the business I give him from not only your cars, but the ones I’m working on too, he gave me an extra special deal. He wouldn’t do that for everyone. I won’t insult him like that.”

“But you’ll insult me instead. I don’t have time for this bullshit right now, Cruz. Get the bumper for two or go somewhere else!”

With that, Carl disconnected the call and Silver was left staring at his phone in disbelief. More and more, he wondered what he was doing putting up with this cabrón (bastard). He mentally ticked off his savings, what his boss owed him already, his upcoming two-week paycheck from the diner and the potential commission he’d get from the car he’d restored for Carl the month before. The ad Carl was running in the Trader had already gotten some interest.

Silver set his phone on the desk then leaned back in the rolling chair again. He dragged his fingers through his thick hair, tossing the numbers through his head, considering all costs he’d have to cover, including housing if he no longer lived at the garage.

Too risky.

Technically, he could do it. He could walk away right now and get a two-bay garage and either rent a room or find a cheap studio, and probably be okay. He wouldn’t be able to invest in any of his own restoration projects for a while, though. And getting a boy anytime soon would be completely out of the question. Even if he didn’t provide for his boy a hundred percent financially, Silver was adamant that he have the means to do so if necessary. Taking on the responsibility of another human being meant he should plan for every possible contingency.

Silver’s attention was grabbed by a vehicle screeching to a stop in his parking area. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so it was probably someone who’d ignored the signs he had attached to the chain link that parking for the taco truck wasn’t allowed. His buddies at the truck tried to look out for him, but when they got slammed with customers, it was impossible for them to stay on top of starving patrons who couldn’t find a spot on the street.

After jogging the length of the enclosed garage, Silver swung the side door open then froze. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His shock quickly transformed into exasperation, and he marched toward Donovan’s Mercedes to tell him to get lost.

“How the hell did you find out where I—”

Silver gasped at the clumsy, blood-soaked bandage across the corner of Donovan’s eyebrow and another covering the back of one hand.

Silver’s heart raced. “Jesus, Donovan. Get inside right now.”

“I’m sorry for barging over here this way, this wasn’t how I’d planned for it to be.”

Silver sighed as he opened the driver’s side door, then reached across Donovan to unlatch his seatbelt.

“I don’t know what ‘it’ was supposed to be, but let’s get you inside and taken care of before we get into anything else.”

Donovan tried to brush Silver away. “Oh, this is nothing. Really. I was just hoping you’d let me talk?” He peered up at Silver with pleading eyes. “Or, you can talk. I don’t care which one. I only want a chance