Chapter Three #2
I was snacking on a pack of chips from the vending machine, about ten minutes into a rather gruesome video Hatch had loaded up for me, when the ding of the doorbell sounded, so I closed the laptop and turned to see who’d just walked in.
And froze.
Fuck.
Echo.
She caught a glimpse of me and her face lost color, looking like she might turn to flee but I put on the best smile I could muster and said, “Hey.”
Good one, asshole.
God, she was pretty. She’d pulled her brunette hair up into a messy bun on top of her head, although some of it was trying to escape and she wore no makeup which made her blue eyes even bluer somehow.
She wore an oversized sweater and blue jeans with a pair of converse sneakers, and I swear to god, I wanted to peel her out of all of it.
“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Echo. I don’t know if you remember me.”
“I remember you. How can I help?”
She frowned. “Do you work here?”
“I do today. What can I do for you? ”
She opened her purse and rifled through it. “Um, well, the man… um, Hatchet, right?”
“Yep, old poppin’ peepers Hatchet.”
“Right, well, he gave me his card and said to call if I need anything done about my car.”
“So you decided to show up instead?”
Her eyes flew to mine. “Is he here?”
“He’s not.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll come back.”
“No, wait,” I rushed to say, stepping out from behind the desk. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“It’s making this weird squeaking sound, and I know it’s not the fanbelt because I checked that myself.”
“You checked that yourself?”
She met my eyes again and hers narrowed.
“Listen, I get that what I did last week probably pissed you off, and I don’t expect you and I to be friends, but I’m not an idiot, so I’m happy to wait for Hatchet to get back.
He was the one who gave me his card, so I don’t need you to do anything for me, okay?
I’m not really liking this open hostility I’m picking up from you.
At least, I think I’m picking that up from you.
I’m not sure because I’m not really good with that type of thing—”
“You’re not good with what type of thing?”
“I don’t pick up on social cues. I’m level one on the autism disorder spectrum…” She shook her head. “And I don’t know why the fuck I just told you that. I’m going to go now.”
“Wait. I can look at your car.”
“Ah, no. That’s okay. ”
“Are you afraid I’ll fuck with it?”
Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Well, I wasn’t .”
“I’m teasing.”
“I don’t like being teased,” she said.
Before I could apologize, the bell dinged again, and fuck my life, my mother walked in.
“Jesus,” I hissed.
“Well, hi there,” she said in a sing-song voice, turning to Echo. “I recognize you. Echo, right?”
Echo nodded. “The ridiculously young looking mother.”
“I knew I liked you instantly. Dani, please,” Mom said with a laugh. “Are you here so my son can apologize?”
Echo turned to me with a raised eyebrow, and I forced myself not to glare at my mother. “She’s here because she has a problem with her car and Hatch told her to bring it here.”
“Oh, that was nice of him,” Mom said. “But what a great opportunity, hm? I’ll give you a minute.”
Mom stepped into the parts room, and I focused on Echo again. “I was a dick the other day and I apologize.”
“Why were you a dick?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, why was I dick? Do you need a list?”
“I just want to know if you know what you’re apologizing for?”
“I’m sorry for riding like an asshole, first and foremost, and then I’m sorry for treating you with disrespect. That shoulda never happened and it won’t happen again.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Although, the Che Guevarette comment was kind of funny.”
I grinned. “I thought you didn’t like being teased.”
“I don’t. But mostly because half the time I don’t get it.
If I get the joke, and it’s not mean-spirited, I can take it.
Well, sometimes.” She bit her lip. “I think. In that particular case, I came in a little hot and well, a bit like a social justice warrior, and it’s not really like me.
I was overly tired and had kind of a tough day.
” She shook her head. “Sorry, no excuses. My apology should be an apology.”
Fuck, she was adorable. Everything she was feeling was written all over her face. I could read her like a book.
“You’re good, Echo. Can we start over? Clean slate?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Great. Now, how about I have a look at your car and see if I can’t figure out what’s going on?”
“Should we tell your mom?”
“Bet ya ten bucks she’s been eavesdropping this entire time.”
“I don’t eavesdrop,” Mom said, strolling back out to the lobby, and sliding her arm around my waist.
I gave her a squeeze and laughed. “Why don’t you keep Echo company while I look at her car.”
“I would love that,” Mom said.
“Can I have your keys?” I asked Echo.
“Hm?”
“Your keys. I’ll need them so I can check out your car.”
“Oh!” she squeaked. “Right. Yes.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out her keys, handing them to me.
I removed the car key, handing her back the rest, then headed outside to do an initial evaluation, leaving her in the capable hands of my mother.