clipboard then hurled it at the dismantled Morgan, the corner of the clipboard cracking the bezel of the only undamaged headlight. Silver sighed then pressed his lips together.
“Fuck! I’m fucking screwed, you idiot!”
Carl fisted the wisps of gray hair still hanging on for dear life on the side of his head and marched around the room, muttering like a crazy person. Silver crossed his arms to keep from throwing something at the pendejo. He didn’t appreciate being spoken to that way, and this was the second time Mr. Jenkins had come at him like that.
“Since I have no idea what your situation is, I have no way of offering any suggestions that might help. Perhaps you could fill me in?”
Carl held his head, shaking it and laughing with no humor. Finally, he dropped his hands and regarded Silver. “That’s right, you don’t know my situation. The only way I was able to pick up the Morgan at auction was to get the buyer to pay for it with the understanding that I’d have it fully restored within a couple months.” He gestured wildly at the body and engine parts that Silver had laid out. “Now, instead of the beaten up, but intact, vehicle he purchased, there’s this. He wants the car back in the condition he bought it, or the money he paid.” Carl kicked an oil can. “And I can’t give him either of those things!”
Silver ran both hands across the top of his head, then laced his fingers behind his skull. “All right, let’s think this through. If I talk to him and explain the situation, can you get him to front the money for the restoration, and we’ll work out something on the back end?”
Carl huffed. “Are you high? I’m not gonna have some car hack do my deals. He’s a respected, corporate guy. Runs in the best circles.” Carl waved Silver off. “I don’t need your help.”
Silver bit the inside of his cheek. He’d already been thinking about moving up his timeline on his own garage. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him something. Maybe it was time to cut his losses before things got worse.
“Okay, no problem. Just thought I’d mention it.” He cleared his throat and placed his hands on his hips again. “Listen, you let me know what you decide, but in the meantime, you said you were going to have my commission on the last car I did for you by this past Wednesday. I know you won’t be back out this way until next weekend, and I’d like to have the money so I can deposit it on Monday.”
Carl scratched his scruffy chin. “Yeah, about that. I had to give that dough to this guy so he wouldn’t break my fucking legs.”
“You did what?”
“Look, kid. You gotta understand, I didn’t have a choice!”
Silver rubbed his eyes, the stress of dealing with Jenkins about to make his head explode. He let out a long exhale.
“Fine. Then I’ll take the Morgan instead. He has my money for the car, so I’ll take the car instead of the money.”
Silver had no idea what he’d do with it, but at least it was something.
Carl barked out a laugh. “In your dreams. You’re not getting that fucking car. He paid a helluva lot more than ten grand for that at auction. I gave him your money as a show of good faith.”
“That’s what you call good faith? Giving my hard-earned money to someone else? You had no right to do that!”
Carl sneered at him, “What are you complaining about? You’ve got a roof over your head.”
Silver took a step toward Carl and the man stumbled back. He didn’t intend to lay hands on the pinche culero, but he did intend to make sure Carl knew he was damn serious.
“Now you listen to me.” He jabbed a finger at Carl. “I’ve always treated you with respect because you’re my boss. But I won’t be spoken to this way and I won’t have the money I earned in good faith, taken from me. I’m giving you two weeks’ notice from today, then I’m outta here.”
Silver hoped like hell he could pick up more shifts at the diner.
“Fuckin’ leave now! I’m not stopping you!”
“Two weeks, Carl. Two weeks. I’ll put the Morgan back together as much as I can, then you can tow it outta here.” Silver turned from him and started gathering his backpack and keys to leave. “Or not. That’s on you.”
“Hey, Silver. Hold on a