Custom Built (Fast & Fury #1) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,3
and letting him pay for things for me.”
“You could never be too old,” he grumbles. I eye the food as we pass the kitchen table, all the salads and sides making my mouth water.
“Yum. You’re right, maybe I will move home.”
My dad is an amazing cook, which is a good thing because he had to take over being both the mother and father after Mom passed away. He raised me on his own ever since, and he did a damn good job at it, too. I remember he used to come to all the Mother’s Day events at the school, being the only man there and not giving a shit, because he didn’t want me to sit there and be alone.
He chuckles. My head turns when I hear the sliding door open.
“Uncle Neville,” I say, smiling and giving my favorite uncle—okay, only uncle—a hug. “Long time no see. How have you been?”
“I’ve been good,” he says, giving me a tight squeeze. “How about you? How’s work been?”
Shit.
“Ummm...” I trail off, not wanting to tell them the truth, but not wanting to lie, either. On the drive here, I knew I was going to have to tell Dad about being fired, but thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. I don’t want him to worry, but I don’t want to disappoint him either. I know he was very proud of me for having this job and would tell all of his friends how his daughter was a private investigator.
My dad picks up on my hesitation straight away. “What’s happened? Did you get a bad case or something? I can help if you’re in any trouble.”
He is always there for me and has my back no matter what, which I really do appreciate, but sometimes it gets a little suffocating. I need to work things out for myself.
Sighing, my shoulders hunching, I decide to just get over it and tell them. “Actually the business is struggling, so Nadia had to let me go.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dad asks, brow furrowing. “Do you need money? I can transfer some to you.”
“I’m telling you now; it only happened the other day. And no, I don’t need any money. I want to figure it out on my own,” I tell him. I hate that I’m keeping things from him. Between this and the possible hysterectomy, I’m breaking our promise to be honest with one another. I know I should just tell him, but I don’t want him to worry or to have to think about the fact that he might never be a grandfather. At least not biologically. It already breaks my heart that I won’t be able to carry my own child, and I don’t want to share the misery. Not yet, at least.
“If you’re looking for a job, I know a place that’s looking for someone,” Uncle Neville pipes in, his amber eyes kind. I’ve always loved the color of his eyes, whereas Dad and I missed that gene and got dark brown instead.
“Where?” I ask, perking up. “No one seems to be hiring now. I’ve been submitting my resume for the last few days and there’s been nothing so far.”
He nods. “It’s at a custom motorcycle shop. They had someone lined up for the holidays, but she bailed, so they’re looking for someone new. All you have to do is man the cash register, answer phones. Typical admin work. What do you think? Something you might be interested in? I know they would pay pretty well.”
I’m not opposed to doing any admin work, and anywhere is a start. It’s not the type of place I’d usually apply at because I know nothing about their business, but beggars can’t be choosers, and I really just want to get a steady income coming in again. Working behind a desk would probably be better than a bar, and I won’t have to deal with drunk idiots every day, too. Is this a good idea? I don’t know yet. But an opportunity has presented itself, and I’m going to take it.
“Yeah, very interested. I can do that. I know nothing about motorcycles, though.”
“You can learn,” he replies, shrugging as he slides his phone out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll call them now and let them know.”
“What? Just like that? I don’t have to do an interview or anything?” I ask, frowning. “Who owns the shop?”
He’s a very mysterious man—there’s more than meets the eye with him. He has terrible taste in