Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
REBEL
I slap the radiator cap back on the car and stomp to the driver’s side so I can turn on the engine.
The car rumbles to life and I listen for the high pitched noise the client complained about. I diagnosed it as a radiator leak, but if the sound continues, I need to investigate deeper.
A throaty roar erupts in the mechanic bay as the engine throttles.
The high-pitched sound is gone.
Machine, 0
Human, 1
I wait for the thrill of another victory.
But the excited gush in the pit of my stomach is missing today.
To be honest, it’s been missing all week.
“If you’re scowling because of the other noises rattling under the hood, I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself,” April says, offering me a bottle of water. “The client only asked us to diagnose that specific sound.”
“I know.” I uncap the top and guzzle the water back.
April eyes me up and down. “Then why do you look so mad? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I bend into the car and turn off the engine. “The high pitched noise is gone for now, but I still want to take the car on a test drive to be sure. I’ll do that after our interview with the new mechanic though.”
“Hm.” April keeps on watching me.
I check my sparkly pink watch and notice a dirt stain on the band. Avoiding eye contact, I grab a nearby pink rag and wipe the plastic material. “Isn’t she supposed to be here for the interview by now?”
Silence meets my question.
My eyes bounce up to April. She’s staring at me with a crease between her eyebrows.
“What?” I ask, feeling like she can see right through my act.
“You’ve been extra testy since Monday.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I pick up my work tablet and log in.
Since April and I don’t have a dedicated office assistant, we’ve had to keep meticulous notes about the parts we order and the hours spent on the job.
“I thought you’d be happy now that everything is going your way,” April says, leaning against the table and resting her chin in her hands.
“I am happy,” I mumble, ignoring the empty pang in my chest that says otherwise.
“Fine,” April waves a hand, “then I thought you’d be super happy.”
“What do I have to be ‘super happy’ about?”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
I shrug, looking cluelessly at her.
“Rebel, you had an incredibly successful community service day last weekend. The news practically called you the ‘New Face of the Lady Luck Society’. Not to mention, the Scooby’s Nightmare client believes in you so much, he donated to the Society and put you in charge.”
“I’m not in charge. The Ladies still expect me to report to them.”
“So? You did it! You’re helping the very people you wanted to help and the fancy ladies at the Society all play nice with you.”
“Except for Carol,” I point out.
“Well, yeah, but that’s a given. You and the Kinseys don’t mix.” April pauses. “I mean, except for you and Gunner. For some reason, you two look really good together.”
I stiffen. “That name is banned from this garage.”
“What? Gunner’s?”
“Put two bucks in the bad word jar.” I point to the empty pink mug.
April snorts.
I spin on my heels and plod to another car. “Was this the next in our lineup?”
April ignores the question and follows me closely. “Have you been sulking all week because of Gunner?”
“That’s four dollars now, missy. And I have not been sulking .”
“Is it because he left for the playoffs?”
“No. Of course not.”
April bursts into belly-deep laughter.
I glare at her. “What’s so funny?”
She guffaws harder. “Is this how I looked?”
“Have the car fumes been getting to your head? Do I need to drive you to the nearest hospital?”
“Give me a second.” April presses her lips together and struggles to regain a semblance of composure. “The first time Chance left for an away game, I missed him so much, but I never thought you …” She stops so she can smack her hand on the table a few times. “This is too good.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I grumble, checking the tablet for the client’s complaints.
“Oh, Rebel, I’m sorry.” April rubs her eyes that had gotten glassy with tears. “I don’t mean to tease. I’m just shocked. I was sure you and Gunner wouldn’t actually fall for each other.”
“We haven’t. And we never will.”
“But… you’re acting like this because you miss him,” she declares, like an old-timey adventurer discovering a new island.
“You’re way, waaay wrong. I don’t miss him. I’d be happy if I never saw him again.”
The humor drains from April’s eyes. “Did you two fight?”
“When would we have time to fight? He never talks to me.”
She shrugs. “Don’t you text?”
“No.”
“Call?”
I bristle even further. “I haven’t seen or heard from him since last Saturday. He didn’t bother telling me he was leaving.” The words scrape my mouth like mini-knives and I stab the tablet even harder with my finger.
Astonished silence fills the bay.
“Seriously? He didn’t stop by before he left town with the team?”
“No.” I inhale shakily, “I found out when I went grocery shopping and saw Gordie with her grandmother.”
April shakes her head as her face twists in confusion. “But that… I mean… maybe he…”
“There’s no maybe about it. In a town this small, there’s no feasible reason for me to not even see He Who Shall Not Be Named around before he left. Unless he’s avoiding me.”
I picture the giant hockey player ducking into alleys when he saw me coming in the distance or scurrying through the back door of the Tipsy Tuna when I walked in. Or maybe he spent all his time at the stadium. Whatever he did, I didn’t see so much as his shadow for days.
April blinks like her brain is short-circuiting. “Avoiding you? Are you sure?”
“Honestly, this isn’t the first time.” I think of those embarrassing days chasing Gunner through the Kinsey farm, only for him to act like I was dirt beneath his shoes.
Back then, I was crushed.
“I’m over it. It’s my fault for expecting common decency from a Kinsey.”
April’s shoulders tighten and I can tell she’s slipping into protective best friend mode. “I’ll ask Chance to talk to him. Even if you’re not in a real relationship, he should still communicate.”
“Don’t bother.”
“But—”
Emotions roil in my chest. “He doesn’t owe me anything. And it’ll only embarrass me if you and Chance act like he hurt me or something.”
“But he did.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“I mean… if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be so angry.”
I growl out like the She-Hulk, “I’m not angry.”
April flinches.
I stare at the tablet, the words all blurring together. “Like you said, April, I’m suuuper happy.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’m so happy, I hope he wins all his games and comes back with an MVP trophy.”
My best friend arches an eyebrow. “Really?”
I last all of three seconds.
“Nope. I hope he slips on a banana peel on the ice and goes belly up in the middle of a crowded rink.”
April’s eyebrows pinch together in the center of her forehead and her lips tremble.
“I hope when he bends down to do his exercises, he rips his pants and that he’s wearing his most embarrassing pair of boxers and everyone films it and it goes viral and he ends up being too ashamed to leave his house.”
“Ooh. Remind me not to get on your bad side,” a raspy voice says.
April and I whirl around.
A woman with black hair cut bluntly to her chin, hazel eyes, and lips painted a bright red steps into the bay. She’s dressed in motorcycle leather and has a bike helmet nestled against her hip.
My eyes skate past her to the impressive bike parked on the front lawn. There’s no mistaking who that machine belongs to. Even if this woman wasn’t wearing a leather jacket, leather pants and motorcycle gloves, her wild-child aura would give it away.
“You must be Cordelia?” April smiles with uncertainty and wipes her hands on her navy jumper before extending her hand to the newcomer.
Cordelia takes April’s hand. “I go by Delia and yes, that’s me.”
I take my best friend’s lead and try to act like the put-together owner of a garage and not like an uninspired shaman hurling curses around a bonfire.
“I’m Rebel Hart and this is April Brooks. We’re the owners of The Pink Garage. It’s nice to meet you in person.”
“You too.” She tips her chin up at me, and I know that I could never be that effortlessly cool in a million years.
“Should we sit?” April suggests, pointing to the contract on the table that we set aside for the interview.
“Oh?” The woman looks surprised. “Do we have more to discuss? I got the understanding that you were satisfied with my references.
April clears her throat. “We are. It’s just… you and I chatted about salaries and such over the phone, but I hammered out the details with my business partner and unfortunately…”
To our surprise, Cordelia Davis takes the pen on the table and scribbles her name on the dotted line.
“Don’t you want to read it first?” I ask, glancing frantically between her and the contract.
“I can tell who’s good people on sight.” She surveys me and then studies April. “I’d like to work with you.”
April and I exchange looks.
I shrug.
My best friend’s lips curl up in relief. “Well,” April says, “I guess… welcome to The Pink Garage.”
I hurry to the fridge. “I bought pink champagne.”
Delia smirks and pulls off her motorcycle gloves. “Save the champagne for later. It’s been a while since I got my hands dirty. Do me a favor and point me to a car?”