16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Trent
B ruce has been working with me at the shop for three weeks, and I’m still not sure about any of his systems or ways of doing things. Rather than being fully digitized, he’s still been relying on filing cabinets, paper files, and handwritten notes and calendars.
Instead of insulting him, I’ve been trying to grapple with his system. He even does his scheduling—holidays for staff, payroll—all by hand.
I finally broke down and installed a desktop computer at the front desk.
The last few years, Bruce did most of the office management while the other guys worked on cars.
But I want to be in the shop, seeing how things run, not behind a desk, hoping for the best. I know I’ll need to hire someone, but I have to be sure the finances support that.
I have a laptop in my office, and I’m trying to get everything from the last three weeks loaded. With only one week left until Bruce actually retires and I take over, I need to get a handle on how I want to do things so the shop doesn’t stall. I know clientele is already down.
Looking back at the bookings from January to the end of March, Bruce’s schedule was packed.
Looking ahead to May, mine is a lot less so.
There are substantial gaps, and while Bruce tried to reassure me that many of those will get eaten up with oil changes people suddenly realize they need, brakes that give up, car accidents, electrical problems, and so forth, it’s hard to see so much empty space.
I don’t want to lay anyone off, but I also know that running this business into the ground isn’t just a problem for me.
Emily’s put her faith and her cash behind me, and knowing the money came from her dad’s life insurance policy only doubles the pressure.
To me, that money would be sacred, and so I’m treating it like it is for her too.
At seven o’clock, I’m still hunting and pecking on the keyboard of the laptop when there’s a knock on the frame of the office door. I look up to see Emily, and I grimace.
“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to find my place again and typing the next line.
“Amir’s at jiu jitsu, so I thought I’d stop by to see how things are going. I know Bruce is done at the end of next week, and you seemed a bit stressed.”
“It’s just what I already told you,” I say, moving the ruler down to another line on the ledger.
“Everything’s on paper, and I’ve decided I’m getting it into a computer.
It just doesn’t make sense to do it all by hand when there are programs that can calculate these things—payroll, taxes, all that. ”
“How much are you digitizing?” she asks, coming to my shoulder to peer at the laptop.
“As much as I can.”
“Trent, that’s going to take you forever. Why don’t you hire someone?”
“Can’t,” I say. “Until I know I’m going to have the customers to keep this place ticking along, I need to conserve money, not spend it.”
“That’s very responsible,” she says, and when I glance at her over my shoulder, I see the glint of teasing in her eyes.
“Happens once in a while,” I say, grudgingly.
“You know,” Em says, perching on the edge of my desk.
Her skirt rides up her thighs, giving me all kinds of ideas. The turn in the weather from winter to spring has meant more skirts and dresses for Em, and it’s been hell on my concentration. When I drag my eyes up to hers, I realize I missed whatever she said after she sat down.
“Sorry,” I say, “I missed that.”
“I said,” she says with a bit of a laugh, “that I could probably talk my mom, your mom, and Maggie into helping me get this all digitized for you in a weekend.”
“You’re really busy right now with real estate, and Maggie is always busy at the pharmacy. I couldn’t ask that.” I go back to hunting and pecking the keys.
“You’re not asking.” She rotates off the desk to wrap her arms around my neck, resting her chin on my shoulder.
The scent of peaches drifts across my senses, and my body springs to attention.
Ever since we spent those sixteen hours getting to know each other on a super intimate level, I haven’t been able to be around Emily in exactly the same way.
I pretend like it’s fine, and I don’t think Em has realized that it’s not quite fine.
Now that I know how she tastes, what she sounds like when she comes apart around me, I’m a bit fucked. My concentration around her is shot.
If I thought I fantasized about her a lot before, that was amateur hour compared to how detailed and frequent those fantasies are now.
Nonstop Emily porn plays in my head whenever she enters a room or I catch a hint of either lemon or peach scents.
The lemon is particularly cruel since it’s such a common disinfectant.
Even taking care of myself in the shower every single morning and evening isn’t making it better.
“I don’t even know what we’re talking about right now,” I say, pecking away at the keys.
“You know what we’re talking about,” she says, a hint of exasperation in her tone as she moves away from me.
My head clears a little, and I stare at her across the desk. Something about doing the digitization work for me.
“It’s a ‘no’ from me,” I say with a shrug.
“Maybe I’ll just organize the team and do it as a surprise.”
“Em,” I say, a hint of warning in my tone.
“Okay, fine. Look, you’ve been a bit grumpy the last week or so, and I just want to help.”
God, the ways she could help. I close my eyes and try to keep all those thoughts from forming at the front of my mind. She wants to help with the business, not my intense sexual frustration.
“Fine,” I say with a deep sigh. “My mom and your mom are fine, but leave Maggie out of it.”
“Sunday,” Em says, heading toward the door to the office. “If you’ll hang out with Amir, we’ll get everything categorized and inputted for you. Just leave sticky notes on everything you need done. We’ll use both computers, and I’ll bring mine, and we’ll get you sorted.”
I sit back in my chair, and I run my hands down my face. “I appreciate you, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” she says, her gaze softening. “This is what friends do, Trent. It’s okay to need help. It’s okay to ask for it.”
And it reminds me a little that last time I didn’t ask for help, last time I didn’t reach out and tell people what was going on with me, I got myself into a lot of trouble.
“Thanks,” I say. “I just don’t want to fuck this up, and I’m a little worried I already am.”
“It’s going to be a lot of learning,” she says, leaning against the open door.
“When I first started my own real estate business, I was overwhelmed with all the things I needed to know. But once you’ve got a base, it’ll become easier.
Part of it is that it’s all on paper, and that’s not one of your strengths. You’re good with tech.”
I get out of my chair, and even though I know it’s a bad idea, I wrap her in a tight hug, and she hugs me back. I breathe in the peaches and try to keep my thoughts PG. She’s good for me, and I need to stop thinking about all the ways I can fuck up either of our arrangements.
Maggie’s pharmacy has a sign on the door saying that she’s closed for the afternoon, which makes me suspicious that Emily didn’t listen to me about who could and couldn’t help.
It should annoy me that she didn’t listen, but she was so excited to go in and organize my office and space that I can’t drum up the negativity. She had a whole game plan mapped out on pages she wouldn’t let me see before she left the house at ridiculous o’clock this morning.
If Amir hadn’t woken up through some sixth sense about Emily leaving the house, I wouldn’t have been up early enough to make her coffee and then the requisite thermos to take with her.
Luckily, he came and got me when he saw Emily getting ready.
He’s been hyped up the last few days about me taking him to a local inland lake.
This afternoon we’re rowing a boat and fishing, which Amir hasn’t done before. I’m not a great fisherman, but the lake is stocked, so we might be lucky enough to catch something small to throw back.
By eight o’clock at night, Emily still hasn’t texted to say I can come check out her handiwork, and I’m getting antsy. Amir has to go to bed soon.
There’s a knock on the door, and Amir races to answer it.
“I need to open the door, buddy,” I say, following behind him.
Amir peers through the side window at his level. “It’s Aunt Mia’s bodyguard, Pasha.”
I yank open the door, heart thrumming. “Everything okay?” Pasha’s normally attached to Mia, Tyler, and Victoria, not out wandering around Little Falls.
“Should be text from Emily,” Pasha says, nodding at my phone in my hand. “I watch Amir while you go to shop.”
And sure enough, my phone buzzes in my hand with a text from Em. They’re done, and she wants me to go there. But I still text her to check that Pasha should be watching Amir.
“I could just bring him,” I say to Pasha, and also to my phone as I wait for her reply.
“No distractions,” Pasha says with a shrug. “She worked all day.”
That she did. I ruffle Amir’s head and step out into the cool spring air. “He normally goes to bed in about half an hour.”
“Emily say you not be long.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling a bit better about leaving Amir with Pasha, who isn’t a stranger but isn’t far from it.
I get in my truck and navigate the familiar route to the shop. When I get there, Tyler’s truck is there along with Maggie’s car, my mom’s car, and Joanna’s car. Stepping out, I wonder whether they did more than digitize my files.
Opening the door, the lights are all off, and when I step through, the lights come on and everyone yells, “Surprise!”
I stand still for a moment and take in the new front office.
It has a fresh coat of paint to cover all the scuff marks, grease, and everything else that had been left behind after years of abuse.
The counter has been replaced with a black two-tiered system so we can deal with guests standing up or seated to discuss more complex cases.
The waiting room for people who have oil changes or other fixes that don’t require substantial time has been upgraded with new furniture, a coffee machine, a small fridge, and other homey details.
“Em,” I say, my voice rough. “You did all this?”
“We all did,” Emily says, gesturing to Tyler, Joanna, Maggie, and my mom.
“Grady couldn’t leave New York City today, but he purchased some of the materials.
Pasha came and did a lot of the grunt work of moving things around.
Your mom and my mom did a lot of the bookkeeping.
Maggie and I installed a system for scheduling shifts, holidays, and appointments.
You can sync it all to your phone. We also set up email software and had your website upgraded thanks to Mia, who had someone on her team who does that stuff already. ”
Even though I’m hearing that all these other people played a part in making this happen, all I see is her.
I step around everyone, and I envelope her into a hug, bringing her off the ground.
She squeezes me right back, and I wish I had the words to tell her how much it all means to me.
Her faith in me, the time she’s spent to make this place better.
It takes me longer than it should to set her down, to let her go, and then I circle around to everyone else, giving the traditional Sullivan hug.
“It’s a fresh start,” my mom says when I hug her. “I’ll come in for the next couple of weeks to make sure you know how all the computer programs work.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I know that, Trent. Tech stuff comes easily to you, but I want to. We all want you to make a go of this.”
“Okay,” I say, and I make eye contact with Emily over my mom’s head, and I hope she sees in my expression everything I don’t know how to say.
The first week without Bruce is slow, and given that things were a bit slower than normal when he was still kicking around, I’m worried. Instead of keeping my worry to myself, I come home from work on time, and I eat dinner with Emily and Amir.
As soon as Amir is in bed, I pull up my appointment book on the computer, and I show her.
“You have a year, Trent,” Emily says. “And you knew it would be an uphill battle at first. I would say this is normal. I get why you’re anxious—I would be too—but I also think this was to be expected.”
I take in what she has to say, and I try not to let my doubts win.
While I took this shop on, and I want it to do well, almost more than anything, the only time I’ve had a real success on my own was when I was putting my skills to illegal use.
It’s hard to let myself lean into something real when I’m worried my drug business accomplishment, one I’ve become deeply ashamed of, might be the height of what I’m capable of.
“I’m a good mechanic,” I say, carefully choosing my words, “but maybe I should have been happy with that.”
“You’re allowed to aim high,” Em says, running her hand down my back in a soothing way I’ve seen her do with Amir.
“I’m saying this with my whole chest, Trent—your past doesn’t have to define your future.
Yes, it still impacts it pretty significantly for the next year, but you’re already building something better so that when you come out the other side, your path is set in a positive direction. ”
“Maybe it’s too early to tell,” I say. “I just...I clung on too hard to the wrong thing when I was a kid, and I took a lot of people down with me. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”
“I don’t think you will,” she says, and she leans over to kiss my temple. “You’re not the same person now.”
I close my eyes at the contact, relish the closeness, and I hope she’s right—that I really do understand when to cut my losses to avoid taking other people down with me.