Chapter 5
Dylan moved closer, her trained eye cataloguing the work needed. “It’s salvageable. Good bones.”
“That’s what I thought.” Aidan leaned against a workbench, his expression turning serious. “Dylan, I need to talk to you about something. A business proposition.”
Her stomach tightened. “Okay.”
“The Pinnacle is doing well. Really well. We’re booked solid for three months out, and I keep having to turn away restoration projects because we don’t have the capacity or, honestly, the expertise for that level of work.
” He paused, choosing his words with care.
“What if we expanded? Added a restoration division to The Pinnacle?”
“That would take significant investment—”
“Which I have. But more importantly, it would take someone with the skill to run it. Someone who understands the difference between repair and resurrection.” His eyes held hers. “Someone like you.”
Dylan’s heart was racing. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“A partnership. You’d head the restoration division, build it from the ground up.
You’d still work regular repairs when needed—we can’t afford to lose you there—but as restoration projects came in, they’d be yours.
You’d hire your own assistant when the time comes, set your own standards.
Eventually, if it grows enough, it could be its own separate entity.
But for now, it would be part of The Pinnacle. ”
“Why would you do this?”
“Because it’s good business. There’s demand for high-end restoration within a three-state radius, and nobody’s meeting it properly.
Because you’re the best mechanic I’ve ever seen, and you’re wasted on oil changes and brake jobs.
” He paused, his voice dropping. “And because I want you to have a reason to stay.”
The last words hung between them, carrying more weight than any business proposition should.
“I’d need to think about it,” Dylan managed.
“Of course. Take all the time you need. But Dylan—this isn’t charity. This is a legitimate business opportunity that makes sense regardless of…anything else.”
She knew what the “anything else” was—this thing building between them, slow and steady as restoration work itself.
“The Charger,” she said, needing to shift to safer ground. “Would I get to restore it?”
“If you want to.” His smile was quick and genuine. “Consider it a signing bonus if you say yes.”
As they walked back toward the house, Dylan’s mind spun through possibilities.
This wasn’t just a job offer—it was everything she’d dreamed of, handed to her on terms that actually made business sense.
She’d have the backing of The Pinnacle’s reputation, steady income from regular work, and the freedom to build something of her own.
“Stay for coffee,” Aidan said as they reached the kitchen door. “Mom made pie.”
“I should go,” Dylan said, overwhelmed by everything—the offer, the family, the way Aidan looked at her like she was already part of all this.
“Tomorrow then,” he said. “Marcus needs your answer, doesn’t he?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Whatever you decide, we’re still hunting for that ring Saturday.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” she managed.
As she drove away from the O’Hara ranch, Dylan thought about the difference between running and choosing.
Tomorrow she’d tell Marcus no. Not because she had to stay, but because she wanted to.
Because Aidan had offered her not just a job but a future, not just work but the chance to build something lasting.
And maybe, just maybe, because the way he’d said “I want you to stay” sounded like the beginning of something worth staying for.
Monday arrived gray and promising rain, the mountains invisible behind clouds that pressed down like a weight. Dylan arrived at the garage at six, her usual time, but nothing felt usual anymore.
She’d made her decision sometime between leaving the O’Hara ranch and falling asleep in her newly painted bedroom. The restoration division wasn’t just a good opportunity—it was the answer to a prayer she hadn’t even known she’d been praying.
Marcus called at nine exactly.
“Dylan. Decision day.”
She stood in her bay, looking at the Ferrari she’d perfectly repaired, at Ralph teaching Danny some arcane trick with a torque wrench, at Aidan through the office window, bent over paperwork with that concentration that made him look younger, more vulnerable.
“Thank you for the offer,” she said, the words coming clear and certain. “But I’m going to stay in Laurel Valley. I’ve had a better offer here.”
There was a pause. Then a chuckle. “O’Hara made you a better offer? Smart man. He knows talent when he sees it.”
“You know Aidan?”
“I know of him. The Pinnacle’s reputation reaches beyond state lines. If he’s offering you a restoration division, you’d be a fool to turn it down.”
“How did you—?”
“It’s the logical next step for a shop like his. And with you running it? You’ll have more work than you can handle within a year.”
After she hung up, Dylan stood for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision settle into her bones. But it wasn’t a heavy weight—it was an anchor, something to build on, something to keep her steady while she built something that mattered.
She knocked on Aidan’s office door.
“Come in.”
He looked up from his paperwork, and she saw the question in his eyes.
“The answer’s yes,” she said simply. “To the restoration division. To the partnership. To staying.”