Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
RILEY
“Boss, you with us?” Jimmy waves a hand over my face.
“What?” I stare at the three mechanics giving me quizzical looks from their seats around the table.
“You were in the middle of talking and you just…” Carlos blows a raspberry. “Shut down.”
“The vehicle fumes must be getting to her,” Blade jokes.
“What vehicle fumes?” Carlos asks, shaking his head. “We’ve only got that one van here.”
I look at the book in my hands. It’s an autoshop manual that I had printed for today’s training. I clear my throat and try to remember where I left off.
My brain scrambles the words.
Flipping the book closed, I smile tightly. “Can anyone summarize what I’ve said so far?”
“We write the parts we need in the logbook, call the parts store and write the price in the logbook too,” Carlos recites.
“Easy as pie,” Jimmy says. “It’s the same thing we used to do. We’re just writing it all down now.”
“I really tried to make it simple and keep it as close to normal procedure as possible. If it’s hard to implement or if you feel like the process can be tweaked, feel free to tell me.”
“We got it, boss.” Jimmy salutes.
“In the spirit of keeping things simple, I got Rebel’s approval for our shop name.” I pause for dramatic effect. “It’s ‘Lucky Falls Auto’.”
Neither Blade nor Carlos look impressed.
“Yay!” Jimmy tries to fill in the silence with a half-hearted fist-pump.
“Thanks for the support, guys,” I grumble.
I set the mechanics loose on the church van again, while I mechanically return to my office. Once I’m there, I sink into my chair, lean my elbow on the desk and rub my forehead.
The image of Nat with Layla at the cafe is imprinted in the back of my eyelids. Layla is a truly beautiful woman, and she perfectly matches Nat’s level of rugged attractiveness. It’s no wonder that he ended up drawn to her again.
If he still had feelings for Layla, why didn’t he say so? Why did he give me the impression that he and his ex are done?
I brush away the thought.
It’s not like he owes me an explanation.
Jimmy knocks on the door and I turn to face him.
“Boss, I think we’re about finished with the van. Do you want us to drive you to the parts shop? We can test drive the van at the same time.”
“That makes sense.” I force a smile.
Jimmy eyes me strangely, but he doesn’t make a comment.
As we’re walking into the mechanic bay, a customer saunters into the shop. “I’m looking for Riley?”
“That’s me.” I raise a hand.
“April down at The Pink Garage said she’s full, but that I could maybe try you. I have this issue with the brakes sticking and it’s making me really nervous about driving. Can you take a look at it?”
“Of course.” I turn to the old man at my side. “Jimmy, can you onboard our client?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I meet the client’s eyes and smile confidently. “This is Jimmy. He’ll be collecting some information from you and then we’ll get started on your car right away.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Boss,” Jimmy says in a low voice, “what about the van?”
I gesture to the sulking teenager in our team. “Blade, come with me. Carlos and Jimmy, you work on the brakes issue.”
Once both men acknowledge the instruction, I follow Blade to the church van. He climbs into the driver’s seat while I take the passenger seat.
The van rumbles to life and the knocking sounds that the pastor complained about is noticeably absent.
“Good as new,” Blade boasts as he moves the stick shift. “I told Carlos it was the timing belt.”
“Hm.” I stare out the window.
“He didn’t believe me. Said it was the crankshaft. We even had a bet.”
“That’s nice,” I murmur, my thoughts far away.
Is Nat getting back with Layla? It’s not possible, is it? Didn’t she have a boyfriend?
“Loser pays for lunch. I’m getting steak at The Tuna.”
“Wow.” I make a fist and pound my chest to ease the pressure there.
That rock-in-the-middle-of-my-ribs sensation feels so painfully familiar. Yeesh, I’m not about to cry, am I? When I was twelve, I would cry every time Nat got a new girlfriend. Which was often. Nathan Campbell was allergic to being single and he was very popular with the ladies.
“Look, there’s a unicorn crossing the road,” Blade says.
“Careful,” I murmur mindlessly.
The kid bursts out laughing, and I look his way. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
I straighten my shoulders, determined not to let my mind wander again. “Are you messing around or are you listening to the car?”
“I’m doing my job, Boss. You doing yours?”
“Don’t get cheeky.”
“You got man trouble, don’t you?” Blade says, shooting me a knowing grin. “My mom acts the same way every time she breaks up with one of her loser boyfriends.”
My face heats up even as I vehemently deny it. “It’s none of your business and I don’t, but again, even if I did, that would be none of your business.”
“If your man’s giving you trouble, you can always come to me,” Blade says.
And I have to stop myself from blurting out a very enthusiastic ‘eww’. Even if he wasn’t a teenager, I wouldn’t consider Blade as a potential partner.
“Seems like you’ve got a lot of time on your hands to talk nonsense. When we get back, I’ll be sure to give you extra work, so you don’t have that problem anymore.”
Blade rolls his eyes and turns up the radio mumbling, “Take it out on him, not me. He’s the one you’re mad at.”
You know what?
The rookie is right.
Why am I letting Nat affect my mood? As a tween, I expended a boatload of energy over a guy who didn’t look twice at me and here I am, over a decade later, doing it again.
My determination renewed, I direct Blade to drop me off at the auto parts shop. Inside, I pay complete attention to my task. The conversation goes so well that I immediately establish a tab with the owner. Now, my mechanics can stop by to pick up the parts they need, and I can pay for it later.
Even better, The Pink Garage referred three more cars in the time I was away. It’s an incredibly busy morning.
At noon, Jimmy, Carlos and Blade head out to find food.
“Lunch is one hour, gentlemen.” I remind them, tapping my watch. “Please be here at one on the dot. Every minute you stay out is a minute I’ll take back this evening at closing.”
Blade rolls his eyes, which is his signature move.
Carlos laughs uneasily.
Jimmy waves. “Got it, boss.”
“I mean it, Jimmy.” I point at him. As great an attitude as Jimmy has, he comes back the latest of the crew.
With the mechanic bay to myself, I retreat to my office to do some paperwork. One thing I did not expect about running a shop is how much organization it takes. My background as an airplane maintenance technician is really coming in handy.
I hear a noise at the front of the shop and look up. Footsteps pound in the direction of my office and I wonder if one of the guys forgot something.
But it’s not Jimmy, Carlos or Blade.
“Hey, Riles,” a deep voice says.
My body goes cold.
I lift my eyes to meet a pair of sparkling green orbs. “Nat.”
His smile is devastatingly handsome. “I figured you’d be here. It’s lunch time, shrimp. You can’t fill your stomach on files and documents.”
“I’ll eat later.” I drop my gaze to the desk.
Nat moves into the room. His big presence makes my already small office feel as tiny as a shoe box.
“You’ll probably forget later. Come on. I only have an hour until I have to get back to the stadium. Eat with me.”
The order is accompanied with a teasing lilt so I know he’s only playing around.
But my shoulders stiffen. “I would rather not, Nat.”
Silence follows my firm declaration.
I can imagine the hurt crossing his face and I intentionally keep my attention on the documents, so I don’t lose my conviction.
Letting Nathan Campbell’s mood determine my life made sense when I was twelve.
But not anymore.
Nat and I are both adults. I saw him with Layla and yes, I can easily bring it up. We can have a conversation about it, and he can even assure me that it’s not what I imagined. But for what purpose?
I have no reason to interrogate him about who he spends his time with, and he has no reason to disclose that information, even if I ask. It would be a pointless exercise in this confusing, pseudo-sibling-but-not-really relationship that we seem to be forming.
“Are you angry in general or are you angry with me?” Nat asks, his voice still and sober. It almost sounds like the thought bothers him.
Maybe it does. Nat has always cared deeply about other people’s feelings and would often turn himself into the group clown, going so far as to insult himself, in order to drag out a few laughs and uplift the mood.
It doesn’t mean anything more.
It’s just his personality and I have to accept that at face value.
My feelings for Nat are embedded in my brain.
That little blob in my skull is on the hunt for reasons to prove that my brother’s best friend likes me.
I can very easily misconstrue his friendliness for romantic interest because, at the end of the day, it’s what the twelve-year-old Riley and the adult Riley wants.
But I can no longer make my feelings for Nathan Campbell become my entire world. I’m an adult with my own interests, my own thoughts and my own need for self preservation.
To save myself and my heart, I have to draw the line with Nat.