Chapter Seven
Seven
Will sat in what the mechanic passed off as a waiting area—two beaten-up vinyl chairs, a wall-mounted TV, and a water cooler.
He smelled gasoline, could easily see right into the shop where the two brothers who owned Kerry Brothers Auto Repair argued about something.
How had Emmy known his car would break down?
Had she sabotaged it before sneaking into his home and climbing into bed with him?
Was there a subtle way to ask if a car showed signs of sabotage?
He didn’t think he could pull it off. She’d said he’d be late for work, and he was.
Normally he’d be freaking out, but the work freakout was going to have to wait until he’d finished losing his shit over everything else that had happened that day.
He had a lot of thinking to do. His mind was a maelstrom of suppositions, suspicions, possibilities, entanglements, and questions. He had pitifully few answers.
And then, like someone had flicked a switch in his brain, everything went blank, and he couldn’t think at all.
The woman who walked past him into the shop was devastating to the senses.
Tall and curvy with sun-kissed skin and a smile that simply enthralled him.
He watched her trot over to the Kerry brothers, handily interrupt their argument, and strike up conversation.
He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but the sound of her laugh carried to him.
When she tossed back her head of honey-colored curls, he followed the movement like she was a hypnotist keeping him focused on a watch.
She wore torn jeans and a paint-stained t-shirt, but she made it look like a fashion statement.
Without realizing, he stood and took a few steps closer.
It was enough for him to catch bits of the conversation.
Even her voice was alluring. She sounded happy. Carefree.
“Anything you feel like you can part with,” she said. “I’m thinking old tools, nuts, bolts, springs, gears. I can pay you! Should have led with that.” She laughed at herself, that joyous sound that had him by the throat.
“We can look around,” said Marlon Kerry, the older brother. “Can you hang out a minute?”
“I’m sorry, I should be getting back to my shop. Super easy to find. It’s right down the street. I just opened two weeks ago.”
“Yeah, I think I seen that place,” commented Ed Kerry. “You sell weird furniture and pottery and such, right?”
“That’s exactly right. Feel free to come in and browse or drop off odds and ends. Anytime.”
“We sure will,” Marlon said while Ed nodded.
“Thank you! You guys are super sweet. I’ll let you get back to work.”
She turned back to the waiting area. Both brothers, Will noted, took a moment to appreciate her ass. Then they went back to arguing.
“Hi,” the woman said, and Will realized he was in her way.
“Sorry.” He stepped aside to let her pass, then blurted, “Do you think you could use a bunch of Canadian coins?”
“What?”
“I overheard some of your conversation, and I have this pile of Canadian coins sitting in my car that I don’t know what to do with. It’s not enough to exchange at the bank, but it’s enough that I feel bad throwing them away.”
“Oh! Cool! Yes, absolutely. If you’re willing to part with them, I’d be happy to take them.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Bright.”
The world stopped turning. Will stopped breathing. The lights in the waiting area seemed to lose their brilliance. There was a weird pressure inside his skull, like someone was leaning on his brain.
He didn’t take her hand. The possibility that this was all some sort of practical joke or scam orchestrated by the mysterious Emmy Miura was getting more and more unlikely.
“Sorry, you said your name was…”
“Bright, yeah. Like the opposite of dim. A far cry from the Brittanys and Jessicas of the world, I know.” She giggled, and the sound that had been so appealing only moments ago now grated on him.
He forced himself to take her hand and shake. He almost made a comment about her name. It felt like he should. She’d practically invited him to. But he didn’t have it in him. “Will.”
“Nice to meet you, Will. Do you have your car here?”
She was asking about the coins. He’d already forgotten about them.
Strangely, there appeared to be a response waiting in his head.
He felt it making its way from his brain to his mouth.
Yeah, they’re working on it now. Mysterious car disease.
How about I bring them by your shop later?
But he didn’t want to say that. At the last second, right when he opened his mouth to say those words that did not feel right, he forced himself to say the first random thing that he could come up with.
“I ate a jellyfish for breakfast.”
“That would be great! Thank you!”
She was still smiling like they were having a pleasant, somewhat flirtatious conversation.
“I want you to eat a jellyfish.”
“Yep! I’ll be there. The shop’s open Monday through Friday, eight to five. But sometimes I stay past closing, so don’t rush.”
“I’m going to fill your house with jellyfish.”
“Perfect. Looking forward to it. See you, Will!”
She practically skipped away. Will’s chest was tight.
Too tight. He couldn’t remember how to breathe.
He’d just told the woman he’d fill her house with jellyfish, and she had reacted like he’d told her…
if he was being honest, the words he’d wanted to say.
Every time she’d spoken, there were words waiting in his head.
She’d responded to those, the unspoken ones.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He was in a fucking romance novel.