here.”
“No rush.” Trying not to drool, I started for my bedroom. “Stay as long as you like.”
Just stay away from me. You’re making me want things I can’t have.
I had planned to check out Blair’s car first thing, but it turned into one of those mornings where nothing went right.
My cousin Lanette had taken over as receptionist while my mother was recovering from surgery—and by “taken over,” I mean she sat in the chair three days a week and answered the phone. Sometimes she filed her nails, but never the paperwork. But Lanette didn’t work on Wednesdays, so of course the phone wouldn’t stop ringing and we were inundated with walk-ins as soon as I unlocked the door.
Which all would have been fine—great, even—except somehow they were all the worst kind of customer.
Like the lonely old lady who wants to tell you her life story instead of what’s wrong with her car. Or the shifty-eyed guy who’s hiding the fact that he already tried to fix the problem himself and made it worse. Or the guy in the suit who’s currently suing the three previous mechanics who have worked on his vehicle.
And it seemed like all of them had already gotten an estimate from Swifty Auto that was cheaper than mine, and a guarantee it would be done by the end of the day. Then there were the customers picking up their cars who were upset at being charged for labor in addition to parts—as if the parts had magically installed themselves and didn’t take hours of skilled diagnostic and technical work on our end.
To make things worse, the desk was a mess, I couldn’t find anyone’s invoices because nothing had been filed for weeks, and no one had told me we were out of coffee.
By the time Blair walked through the lobby door carrying a bakery box and a drinks tray with two tall cardboard cups in it, I was ready to torch the whole operation.
“Hi there,” she said, setting the box and tray on the counter. She wore a short yellow flowery dress, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. “How’s it going?”
I rubbed my face with both hands. “Shitty. I’m sorry, I haven’t had a chance to look at your car yet. It’s been fucking chaos in here for the last two hours. This is the first time the lobby has been quiet.”
“That’s okay. I can wait. I went down to the diner for some coffee and realized you hadn’t eaten anything before you left this morning. Thought you might like some breakfast.” She opened the box to reveal a dozen donuts. “I know it’s not the best apple pie since 1957 or anything, but these looked okay.”
“Thanks. Coffee up for grabs too?”
“Of course. I wasn’t sure how you took it, but when I mentioned to Louise at the diner where I was bringing everything, she said you just took it black. That one’s yours.” She pointed to the cup with a G on it before pulling one labeled with a B from the carrier.
“Perfect.” I grabbed the cup she’d indicated was mine and took a gulp. “I needed this.”
“Can I help?”
“Nah, that’s okay.” I reached into the box, pulled out a glazed donut, and took a bite. It was oddly tasteless.
“I really don’t mind. Is your receptionist late or something?”
“We don’t have one full-time right now. My mother has worked the desk here for years, but she’s out because she had a hip replacement recently. My cousin Lanette has been working part-time, but . . .” I frowned at the disaster area in front of me. “She doesn’t get much actual work done.”
Blair peeked over the counter. “Yikes. How do you find anything?”
I took another gulp of coffee. “Sometimes we don’t.”
“Well, listen. I don’t have anything to do while I wait for you to fix my car, and I owe you a big favor for offering me a place to stay last night. Let me take over here and get all this stuff filed, so you can get to work in there.” She gestured toward the service bays.
My first instinct was to say no, but I gave myself a minute to think as I polished off the rest of the boring donut. I did not want to spend my entire day out here listening to people gripe. I did not want to stay after hours filing paperwork. And I sure as hell didn’t want to hear the words Swifty Auto again today—my temper was