Chapter 9 – Kenzie
Chapter Nine
Kenzie
“Wait, you’re going to work for this mechanic and not get paid?”
I smiled and rolled my eyes at my mother’s practical nature as I rinsed my breakfast plate in the sink, getting ready for Jensen to pick me up in a few minutes. I’d called her this morning to give her an update and help keep her from falling to pieces about not knowing exactly where I was.
I hadn’t wanted to tell her about the trouble Jensen had found in my car—that would just make her worry more. But talking about creating a landing page and social media for the garage and his woodworking had felt pretty safe. Especially since I was so doggone excited about doing it.
Although, evidently, Mom still had some concerns.
“It’s not really about payment. It’s more about having something to do while I’m here.”
“Kenzie! That’s not right. You can’t start a job without knowing the rate. What if he doesn’t have the money?”
“It’s not a job, Mom. He’s helping me out, and I’m helping him out.”
“He’s helping you out how, exactly?”
Damn it, now what was I going to say? Telling her about the sabotage of my car was going to send her through the roof. Telling her that Jensen and a bunch of former Navy SEAL guys were so concerned about my safety that they were taking turns watching me around the clock was enough to freak me out. I couldn’t imagine what that news would do to my parents.
“He’s just…” I stretched my neck from side to side, trying to come up with something to say. “It’s a small town here, Mom. I can’t do any work. I was going a little stir-crazy, so when he mentioned needing some assistance setting up online stuff for his businesses, I was more than happy to help. He doesn’t need to pay me. I have plenty of money.”
My mother was uncharacteristically silent for so long, I thought maybe our call had gotten disconnected.
“Please tell me he’s not in his fifties with a potbelly,” she finally said.
“ What ?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, Mom. He’s around my age. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s been a big help with some of my car issues. He’s not taking advantage of me, I promise.”
And he very definitely did not have a potbelly. I didn’t have to see him without a shirt to know that; those sexy Henleys he wore hinted at an impressive physique.
“You like him,” Mom whispered. I could hear the excitement in her voice.
“It’s not like that.”
“So you say.”
“This is not a vacation, Mom.” I washed out my cup and set it in the rack to dry. “I’m not here to have a travel romance. I just want this stalker thing handled so I can go back to my life.”
“But is he handsome? He is, isn’t he?”
I let out a sigh. “Yeah, Mom. He’s super hot, okay? Like, belongs on the cover of Hot Small-Town Mechanics magazine.”I was joking, but honestly, it wasn’t far from the truth.
“I’d subscribe to that. ”
I chuckled at my mother’s muttering and hung the dish towel over the oven handle then walked into the tiny living room.
“Okay,” Mom said. “Well, there’s no reason why you can’t have a little fun with your handsome mechanic while you’re there. You haven’t done much dating since Alan.”
“Yeah, well, a black eye, bruised ribs, and a dislocated shoulder made me a little gun-shy when it comes to guys.”
“I’m glad that rat bastard is still in jail. Do you know how many women don’t press charges in situations like yours?”
It was one of the reasons I had, even though it had been difficult and humiliating. Alan had gotten two years in prison and wouldn’t be out for another six months. I’d like it better if he were in there longer, but I’d deal with that situation later.
“I know. But I can’t focus on Alan right now. We know he’s not the stalker since he’s in jail. So, one thing at a time.”
“You’re right, sweetie. Any good trails around there?”
I grinned. “You know, I didn’t look.”
“Hiking is practically walking, and walking is excellent exercise.”
“And in Denver, I walked over my step quota every day.”
“With all the air pollution.” Mom let out a heartfelt sigh. “I swear, I don’t know what I did wrong with you. It’s like you’re scared of the great outdoors.”
I was always going to be more like my dad than her in that regard, much to her dismay. And even if I loved outdoor activities, right now they weren’t an option. Not with the?—
A horn shrieked right outside my window, catching me off guard, throwing me back to the horn that had blared right as I was run off the road a few weeks ago.
I dropped the phone, covering my ears as the noise continued. The world was spinning like it had that night in my car. I’d been sure I was going to die .
I crouched down, covering my head, willing the sound to stop, but it kept on.
The car was spinning, and I was sure I was going to slide off the side of the windy road any minute and roll down the ledge. I couldn’t get control. I?—
“Kenzie! Kenzie, are you there?”
I looked up from my crouched position. No, I wasn’t in a car. I was in my apartment. There was no horn blaring.
I crawled over to where I’d tossed my phone in my panic.
“I’ve got to go, Mom.” My voice was hoarse, breathless.
“Are you okay? What just happened?”
“Nothing. I dropped my phone. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you.”
I disconnected the call before my mom could press the issue. There was nothing she could do about whatever panic attack had just come over me, and she would just worry.
I let out a yelp when I saw the time. It was already nine o’clock. Jensen would be downstairs to pick me up.
I rubbed my hand against my eyes. Hell, it was probably him who had honked to let me know he was here, and then my brain had totally blown it out of proportion.
I hopped up and grabbed my jacket, still struggling to get my heart rate under control. Yet another thing this stalker had taken from me: my ability to distinguish fact from fiction.
I headed out the door, feeling a little safer knowing a couple of the Resting Warrior guys had put up a camera in my hallway for security, and rushed down the stairs. Still, I kept my eyes open for anyone lurking. The hall was empty, and when I opened the lobby door, I burst out into the sunshine.
Jensen had parked, getting out of his truck to approach me. Just the sight of him calmed my nerves, but I refrained from running to him after being spooked .
“You didn’t have to honk. A text would’ve been fine.” I smiled, joking.
He furrowed his brow, clearly confused. “I didn’t honk.”
I almost tripped in my step as I reached his passenger door. “Really?”
“What am I, fifteen years old?” He opened the door to his truck for me. “What kind of grown-ass man honks for a woman to come out to his vehicle? I will come up to your door, so from now on, you wait for me.”
I stared at him. Those were the most words with the most intensity that I’d heard from Jensen. He obviously took my safety seriously.
“Okay. I just heard a honk and thought it was you.” And I let it send me into a nightmare spiral that I am still recovering from.
He walked back around to his side of the truck and got in. “I didn’t hear any honk. But either way, just wait for me or whoever’s coming to pick you up, okay?”
“No problem.” I tried to keep a smile on my face even though I was still sweating a little from my panic attack.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just…” I didn’t want to get into my imaginary horn craziness with him, especially not when I was this unsteady.
I forced out my brightest smile, the one I saved for when I had a real estate client who was about to drive me insane but I couldn’t make that fact known. “I’m just ready to get started on our project.”
“You’ll be in the main office with Susanna, so I hope that’ll be okay. She loves to talk, so if it gets to be too much, just ask her for some quiet. She’s used to it, and you won’t offend her.”
I stifled a laugh at his exasperated tone as we parked at his garage. I’d already experienced some of Susanna’s bright personality when we’d gone for coffee my first full day in Garnet Bend. I was a pretty upbeat person, but she was way beyond my level.
I smiled at Susanna as we walked inside. She was on the phone already, using earbuds that connected to the landline. Jensen gave her a nod, and we continued on past her, to a smaller office area.
“She’s on the phone a lot, so I thought my office might be better.”
I looked around. It was neat but bare. A laptop sat on the small desk with a notepad and pen holder beside it, nothing more.
“I obviously don’t use this office a lot.” He shrugged, indicating for me to sit. “Like I said, I’m not great with computers and online stuff.”
The small room had windows, and I liked that I could see Susanna in the bigger office if the door was closed. Windows also looked out to the garage bays, so I would see Jensen too.
He got me situated and provided the log-ins he wanted to use on social media, plus some ideas he’d jotted down.
“Will this work? Can you read my scribble?”
“Sure, this will do fine.”
He grimaced at the notes he’d handed me. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job with this. These were just my thoughts.”
I studied the words he’d written on the paper: bold fonts, earth-tone colors, manly.
The last word was underlined three times.
“You know, just add whatever design you think would work to show the services and prices, an FAQ section, et cetera. Whatever you think works.”
“But make it manly.” I grabbed a pen on the desk and underlined the word again, grinning. “Got it.”
His own grin was sheepish. “Yeah. No pastels or twirly fonts. ”
I bit back my laugh. “None. Scout’s honor.”
This was going to be fun.
“Let me show you some of my woodworking. I have a bay here that’s just for that.”
“Sure, show me where the magic happens. That will be good fodder for the website and social media.”
We walked out to the far end of the garage, and he opened a bay door. I had to do a double take at what I saw.
“Wow. This is not what I was expecting.”
He walked over to a large workbench, which was pretty much the only thing in the bay that I could name. “More than you were expecting?”
I had to chuckle. “I knew you were doing more than carving stuff with a whittling knife, but yeah. This is impressive.”
“I’ve grown it over the past year. I use the table saw all the time. And this is a band saw.”
I grabbed my phone and started typing in the words he was saying so I could look them up when I got back to the computer. “Keep going.”
He flushed a little. “Isn’t this boring to you?”
“Not at all. I don’t know what any of it is for, but I can research that later. But this can definitely be a part of the social media campaign.” An idea was already formulating in my head. “We could concentrate on a different machine each week. Talk about what it’s used for.”
He looked around, a smile building on his face. “I never thought of that. You’re really good at this social media stuff.”
“I just try to get into the heads of your customers. Tell me more.”
He walked around, pointing to different things—drum sander, spindle shaper, clamp rack, jointer, radial arm saw—and I typed as fast as I could .
We finally came to a table that held what I’d been expecting: knives. All kinds and sizes.
“I’m assuming this is where it began.”
He nodded. “Yes. Although I don’t want that on social media.”
“Are you sure? I think people would love hearing how this all got started.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“If you’re worried it’s not interesting, don’t be. People love origin stories. Even things we don’t find interesting, they usually do.”
“I got my start in woodworking with this knife right here.” He picked up one of the smallest and most unassuming of the lot.
I definitely wanted to take a picture of that. It would be great for the “About Us” page. Surely someone here had a high-end camera I could use. The camera on this burner phone wasn’t the best.
“I don’t want it on social media because I was ten years old, locked in my room, and hoping I wasn’t going to have to use it as a weapon against my own parents.”