and gone back to work putting a new tire on Blair’s MG. Luckily, the tires were not original stock so that was an easier fix than the other issues would be. But she seemed okay with the idea of sticking around while waiting for parts. And God knew I could use her help around here.
Earlier I’d shown her how to use the online scheduling tool on the desktop computer in the lobby, and she’d picked it up with no problem at all—which was a good thing, because standing over her shoulder so closely made it difficult to breathe. Every time I caught her scent, I broke out in a sweat.
Around six o’clock, I was thinking about calling it a day when I decided to stop ignoring my phone. I’d turned it off after lunch to avoid my mother, but when I checked the missed calls and texts, I discovered that my sister had been desperately trying to get ahold of me. At first, her two phone calls and four frantic texts didn’t make sense, but then I remembered—the kitten.
Grimacing, I called her back.
“Nice to hear from you,” she said coolly.
“Sorry. It’s been a weird day.”
“I bet. I heard you got married last night.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
She laughed. “I have a wedding present for you. Her name is Bisou.”
“For Christ’s sake, I did not get married, Cheyenne.”
“I know, and Mom’s heartbroken about it. But you can still have your kitten. Isn’t that nice of me?”
“Do I have a choice in the matter?”
“No. But you better hurry and come pick her up, because I already stayed late at the shelter for you. Technically we closed at six, but Bisou has been waiting for you all day, and I know you wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”
“Okay, okay. I just have to close up the shop and grab a shower. Give me half an hour.”
“Works for me. Thanks, big brother.”
We hung up, and I quickly tidied up the benches and tool cabinets before scrubbing my hands and heading into the lobby.
Blair, still seated at the desk, looked up and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hey.” I glanced around the lobby. It looked different somehow, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I sniffed—it smelled like lemons. “Is . . . is there something new in here?”
She laughed as she stood up and came around the desk into the waiting area. “Not new. I just rearranged the furniture a little. I also tossed the raggedy magazines, watered your plant, dusted everything, and gave the windows a good cleaning.”
“You did all that today?”
“Yes.” Looking proud of herself, she clasped her arms behind her back.
“And worked the desk too?”
“Well, I wasn’t really that busy at the desk,” she admitted, her eyes dropping to the floor.
I frowned. “Oh.”
“But the customers I did interact with, I learned something from! I started asking people how long they’d been coming here, what brings them back, what they’re looking for in a repair shop. It was fascinating, really. And it gave me some more ideas for your rebranding.”
“My what?”
“Your rebranding.” She cocked her head. “Although I’m not sure you have a brand now, so maybe we should just call this your first branding.”
“This sounds . . . a bit more painful than what I agreed to,” I said, scratching my head as I pictured Beckett branding his cattle. “I don’t really want to be branded.”
Blair shook her head. “You have no choice. Swifty Auto is branded and believe me—they’ve got an entire team of people working on it.”
My frown deepened into a scowl.
“You shouldn’t make that face so often. It’s going to give you wrinkles.” She winked at me. “And you’re kinda cute when you smile.”
“Cute?”
“Something wrong with cute?”
“Cute is for babies and kittens, not mechanics,” I said cantankerously, feeling hot beneath my clothes. “And speaking of kittens, I have to go pick mine up.”
Her jaw dropped. “You have a kitten?”
“Temporarily. My bleeding-heart sister volunteers at the animal shelter, and she conned me into fostering a kitten until she can find it a permanent home.”
Blair put her hands on her cheeks. “I’m going to melt. It’s so sweet.”
“No melting, please. I’m not sweet, I’m just doing it because my sister made me feel guilty. She moved in with our mom after she had eye surgery and both hips replaced. I wouldn’t have survived.”
“I still think it’s sweet.”
“Yeah, well . . .” I grumbled. “Like I said, it’s temporary.”
“It counts.” Her eyes held mine, and my body temperature ratcheted up even higher.
I cleared my throat. “So listen. You’re