12. Luke
CHAPTER 12
Luke
Despite knowing I’d be dragging after going out the night before, I was still grumpy about it. I’d snoozed my alarm three times and groaned like my old man getting out of a chair as I hauled myself out of bed. Even after some very strong coffee, I was struggling.
Racing had been what it always was. A temporary fix. Exhilarating high one moment, crashing back to reality the next. I’d skipped the after-party as usual, but I’d still been out half the night.
I drove to the garage with the windows in my Chevelle down, dark sunglasses cutting down the sun's glare. It was hot already. Apparently, summer had no intention of letting up. My mind drifted to the days when my brothers and our friends and I would have congregated at the lake, beating the heat in the chilly water. Staying to sit around a fire as the sun went down.
When was the last time we’d done anything like that? It seemed like life—or maybe adulthood—had gotten in the way.
Chasing away thoughts of summers spent at the lake, I parked and got out. I had a hell of a lot of work to do, and I was already behind.
A zing of adrenaline perked me up more than my coffee as I entered the lobby. Melanie sat at the front desk, talking to someone on the phone. Thankfully, she was using her regular voice—no random accent. Her dark hair was up, and it irritated me the way her red lips twitched in a hint of a smile as our eyes met.
I was going to walk by and head straight for my office, but something about her was magnetic. She pulled me in against my will.
She said goodbye and hung up the phone. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
“Why so glum?”
“Glum? Who uses that word anymore?”
“Me, obviously. I was trying to be nice, but since that failed, why do you look like you slept in a dumpster?”
I glanced down at myself. “I don’t look like I slept in a dumpster.”
“Fine, someone’s couch, then.”
“I slept at home. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Of course it isn’t. Let’s try this again.” Pausing, she took a breath, then gave me a too-big smile. “Good morning, Mr. Haven. There’s fresh coffee if you’d like.”
“Is that your receptionist persona?”
She kept smiling. “I thought it would be appropriate.”
“Can you just be… you?”
“Well, you don’t like me, so…”
Glancing away, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t not like you. And before you make fun of me for the double negative, you know what I mean.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Sure, you weren’t.”
Her lips turned up in a grin again. “Coffee? ”
“Are you actually trying to be nice, or do you keep offering me coffee because I look like hell?”
“Both.”
I backed away from the counter. “You drive me nuts. You know that, right?”
“Sorry. You look fine. You work in a garage, no one will notice.”
“Exactly.” I turned, pushing away the temptation to keep arguing with her, and went into the garage. I actually wanted a cup of coffee, but I couldn’t get one after that. Not from up front, at least.
Fucking Melanie.
I went to my office, dropped into my chair, and raked a hand through my hair. A not-so-pleasant scent caught my attention. What was that? It smelled like dirty laundry. I sniffed the air again. Where was it coming from? Had I left something in my office? It wasn’t exactly tidy, but there shouldn’t have been anything that foul.
Wait.
Leaning down, I sniffed my armpits.
It was me.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it down. Dirty. Visibly dirty. Sliding my chair back, I straightened my legs to inspect my jeans. They didn’t look clean, either.
Apparently, I hadn’t been paying attention when I’d grabbed my clothes. I must have taken them from the dirty basket, not the clean one.
Yes, I had a clean basket. Don’t judge. At least my clean clothes weren’t on the floor.
I really did look like I’d slept in a dumpster.
The last thing I was going to do was admit to Melanie she’d been right. I’d avoid the lobby and live with Patrick’s barely drinkable coffee. And I was not changing my clothes. I’d just work on one of my restoration projects and get even dirtier. I was a mechanic, after all. Who needed clean clothes when you worked on cars all day?
My phone buzzed, so I swiped the screen to check. It was a text from someone who wasn’t in my contacts.
Hey, it’s Jenna. I was hoping you could come take a look at my grandpa’s car.
She didn’t just want me to look at her grandpa’s car. I’d have bet my entire garage and every car in it. She wanted me to ask her out.
And why not? She was cute. I hadn’t dated anyone in a while, so maybe it was time. I could look at her grandpa’s car, then take her out. See if we hit it off.
Frustrated, I dropped my phone on my desk. I couldn’t do it. It was the stupidest thing. She was attractive, and there might have been some chemistry between us. Or there should have been.
But somehow, the thought of going out with Jenna was strangely repulsive.
What was wrong with me?
I was tired and grumpy. That was all. I decided to wait and text Jenna back when I wasn’t in such a crappy mood.
Leaving my phone on my desk, I went out to the garage in search of coffee. Unfortunately, the pot was empty. With a sigh, I decided to suck it up and go back to the lobby and the fresh—and undoubtedly better—coffee Mel had made.
Melanie’s voice carried through the door that led to the lobby. I paused, listening. She wasn’t using an accent or character voice, but there was something in her tone—a barely concealed sharpness. Who was she talking to?
I pushed the door open just enough to peek through and almost groaned. Gary Boggs stood in front of the counter wearing his typical sour expression. He was a local classic car enthusiast who did a lot of business with my garage. That should have been a good thing, but I wasn’t sure if dealing with him was worth it. He was never happy .
“I’ve been waiting for an update,” he said. “Tried calling a few times. Still nothing.”
“I’m sorry about that. Our usual front desk person left on maternity leave, so I think a few things have fallen through the cracks.”
“How is that my problem?”
“I don’t suppose it is, although I’d think knowing the reason might lead to understanding.”
“I understand, all right. It’s always the same with him. Lazy as all hell. Luke Haven is unreliable and always has been.”
I rolled my eyes. He was such a dick. I put my hand on the door and was about to saunter in and put him in his place when Melanie started to laugh.
It wasn’t just any laugh. It had a hint of cartoon villain to it, which was oddly arousing. I hesitated, holding the door ajar with my foot.
“Oh, my friend.” She slowly stood. “What was your name again?”
“Gary.”
“Of course, Gary. You think Luke is lazy and unreliable?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Interesting. Because last I checked, customers are lined up to have him restore their cars. There’s a mile-long waiting list and an even longer list of happy customers. You seem to be the anomaly, Gary. Which makes me think this is a you problem.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think I was clear. If Luke owes you an estimate, and it’s actually late, then I apologize for the inconvenience. But I have a feeling you were just looking for something to complain about today, and this happened to come up first on your list. Or maybe you were driving by, saw our sign, and thought, damn it, that Luke Haven.” She dropped into a remarkable impression of Gary. “He didn’t give me what I wanted exactly when I wanted it. I better go give him a piece of my mind. And while I’m at it, I’ll be unnecessarily rude.”
“Rude?”
“Yes, rude. You didn’t have to waltz in here with insults on your tongue.”
He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. I clenched my fists, tension rippling across my back. If he snapped at her, I was going to rearrange his face.
“Fair enough,” he said, chastened. “My apologies.”
Her expression softened into a smile. “Thank you, Gary. Apology accepted. And I’ll find out about your estimate and make sure someone gets back to you as soon as possible.”
“All right. I’ll be expecting a call.”
“Absolutely.”
He nodded once and turned to leave.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” she said.
“I will. Thank you.”
He left, and Melanie flipped him off as soon as the door closed behind him. “Asshole.” She kept mumbling as she took her seat. “What a jerk. Lazy. Whatever. Unreliable. You’re unreliable, Gary.”
Stepping back, I carefully turned the knob so she wouldn’t notice the door closing. It was hard not to laugh. She’d handled him like a pro, somehow telling him off and getting him to apologize in one fell swoop. I’d never heard Gary Boggs apologize for anything in all the years I’d worked with him.
But the almost-chuckle died on my lips as what she’d just done hit me square in the chest. She’d stood up for me. Not that I’d needed her to. Gary wouldn’t hurt my feelings, no matter what he said about me. And she knew me well enough to know that. But she’d done it anyway.
Granted, maybe he’d just irritated her, and it didn’t have anything to do with me.
But it wouldn’t have been the first time .
A flood of memories came rushing back. The time our science teacher decided to give a surprise test right before finals week. Melanie had campaigned to get the grades removed, citing it as unfair to the students—not because she’d bombed that test but because I had.
Or when Harry Montgomery had accused me of crashing into his fence and letting his goats out. Melanie had mounted a defense every bit as good as a lawyer to prove it hadn’t been me. I cracked a smile at the memory. She’d been incensed at the accusation. She’d even risked getting herself in trouble, considering I’d been with her that night, and we’d been out after her curfew.
Spicy nice. Annika had been right about that. And there’d been a time when Melanie’s version of nice had been appealing. Not that I’d needed my girlfriend to defend me—I could have stood up for myself just fine—but she’d done it anyway. Because that was how she cared.
A very troubling thought crossed my mind. Had she stood up for me to Gary because she cared about me? Or had he just pissed her off? If he’d been complaining about Ollie or Patrick, would she have reacted the same way?
Probably. It couldn’t have been because she cared about me, specifically. He’d just riled her up, which, let’s be honest, wasn’t hard to do. Melanie had a lot of buttons, and it was all too easy to push them.
Still, the thought was there, and I couldn’t shake it. I went back to my office, trying not to think about a version of Melanie Andolini who still cared, and what it meant if she did.