Chapter 3
I’m standing in front of Massey’s office building, contemplating if I brought enough for her. Bear claws, iced coffee, a teddy bear. Gathering the courage to grovel until she forgives me, I go headfirst toward whatever response I will get. I pass by the reception desk, giving the assistant a finger wave. I tip-toe down the carpeted hallway and peek my head around Massey’s door. She looks up from her desk and places her sketching pencil down. More like slams it down.
I walk fully in the doorframe and hold up my full hands. “Bear claws, iced coffee, and a massive apology for you?”
“Oh, girl.” She snaps her fingers toward me. “You owe me big apologies for leaving me with the douche duo.”
I cringe hard because I know she’s right. Placing the box of goodies and drink carrier down on her desk, I pull a pack of Starburst from my bag and place it next to the box of bear claws. She opens her desk drawer and sweeps her hand across the desk, grabbing the chewy candies and sliding them into the drawer. She flicks her delicate wrist, slamming the drawer shut.
“Okay. You’re forgiven.” Massey acknowledges.
I am so relieved. I plop down in the chair facing her desk. “Thank you! What happened after I left?” I sit up and reach for a bear claw from the box.
Massey grabs one as well, breaking a piece of the gooey donut and popping it in her mouth. With a sigh mixed with a groan, “Well, Lawson pushed Victor off my board and climbed on. He demanded we paddle away and leave the douche behind. Lawson is freakishly strong. He paddled us both away. Last I saw, Victor climbed on your board and headed back to shore.”
Crap, my board.
“I called Victor last night. He’s got your board.” Massey soothes my worried heart.
I am slightly disappointed I won’t have my longboard to surf with and will have to put up with my shortboard. There is nothing wrong with it. I just like the smoothness and steadiness of the longboard. The short board is quicker to cut in the waves.
“Collins, I’m so glad to see you!” Massey’s dad, Dave, or I refer to him in the most respect as Mr. Withers, pokes his head in the door. “Can I ask you to look at our corporate car? It won’t start.”
“Yeah, happy to look.” I give him a small smile.
“It’ll be unlocked. Janice out front will give you the keys.” He gives me a nod. “How’s the Chevelle?”
“Rough and perfect. I’ll be picking parts for her today.” I proudly say.
“Good. Well, have a nice day. And, thanks again.” He gestures before leaving.
“Well, I’ll head out. Have a good day.”
Massey just mumbles with a mouthful of donut. I take it as a “Thanks, you too.”
I spin the keyring in my fingers as I make my way down to the parking garage underneath the office building. Exiting the elevator at the garage, I click the lock and unlock button to find the right corporate car. A loud beep brings me face to face with the hazel eyes that break through every focused moment I’ve had. Tightening in my stomach, pulling at my ribs, nerves, and sweaty palms.
“Hey Collins. What are you doing here?” He speaks first.
Taking a large, awkward gulp. “Checking the corporate car,” I say.
He holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers. “I’ll do it.”
“But, I can…”
“Nah,” his quick response cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. “I wouldn’t want you to mess up your nails.”
Glancing down at my colorless nails with dirt mixed with grease underneath them. I laugh to myself when I look at his furrowed brows staring down at the car. I hand the keys over to him and he pops open the hood of the car. Victor pushes up the sleeves of his pressed button-up shirt and holy forearm candy. He leans over the engine and is just staring at it. This man does not know what he is looking at. Frustration overtakes me. My patience with entitled and assuming jerks runs thin with every poor pitiful girl assumption about me. For heaven’s sake, how could I know anything about a car?
“Well, we can’t have you ruin that crisp white shirt. God forbid you get dirty.” I laugh. “We less fortunate people can’t have high-class assholes ruining a good shirt.” I say smugly.
I walk over and pick the keys from his pocket.
“Hey!” He gasps.
I try to start the car and the engine sounds like it is trying to turn over. Loose cables, a bad battery, or a bad alternator. I’ll start with the spark plugs and go from there. Everything else, Dave will have to bring the car into the shop. Blissfully walking away to my truck, where I have a small tool chest and the perfect jawline, honey-haired douche walks next to me.
“What are you doing?” he questions.
I roll my head from side to side. “Fixing the car,” I candidly respond.
“I told you I had it,” he snips, annoyed.
I hold my arm up, hitting his chest, before angling my body toward him. “Back off.”
He’s pushing it with me. I drop my tailgate and climb up into the back. Rooting around my rusted tool chest, I find a couple of spark plugs I keep in hand specifically for Mr. Withers. Even though our garage is across the island, he’s thrown business our way for many years. Leland and Lawson have come to my and Massey’s rescue many times. It’s also a way to thank Massey and her dad for not throwing in our faces that we are poor or that we don’t fit in with their crowd.
Putting the car back together, I climb back in, and it starts right up.
“I was getting there. You just got lucky.” Victor seethes. I’ve hurt his man card.
“Lucky?” I choke on my air.
“Yeah.” His hand motions over the engine. “With this standard motor crap.”
“You don’t think I know what I’m doing?” I challenge him. My arms cross over my chest, drawing his eye for a brief second. I don’t have mountains, but I’d like to think my mediocre breasts are something special.
“Why would you? You’re a girl,” He cranes his neck.
“And you are an ass,” I say back quickly.
“I…”
Before he can utter another word, I hold my finger up toward him, gesturing to him to be quiet as I take my phone out and call Mr. Withers’ assistant.
“Hey, it’s Collins. Will you let Mr. Withers know I fixed the car?” I give his assistant an update. “No, no bill.” I smile into the phone, thanking his assistant before hanging up the phone.
I end the conversation and drop my hand; Victor attempts to speak again. “There is…”
I turn, giving him a death stare before raising my hand once again and flipping him off.
“What the hell, Collins?” his voice cracks.
“Sad, you don’t think more of me. Especially when you do not know who I am.” I turn and walk away with nothing more to say.
“No way you know that much about cars,” he tries to lay a dig but fails miserably.
“Well, thankfully you won’t lose sleep over what I can and can’t do.” I stand firm and offer a salute before walking away, muttering under my breath. “Selfish prick.”
I climb in my truck and putter away. I still need to head to the junkyard to spend the next several hours pulling parts and pieces for my Chevelle. My beautiful girl is a beast of a woman with expensive taste in parts.
I’m hovering around another engine when I find the block parts I need for my girl. After pulling everything and adding to the wagon of other goodies I found, I lug the parts back to my car in a rickety old four-wheeler they let me borrow. I’m so exhausted from the heat and sun that it takes longer to load all the spare parts in the back of my truck.
Pulling onto the main road, a car flies past at a high rate of speed. Stupid drivers. “Gonna get someone killed.”
One last look as I pull out and head back to the shop. Windows down, and music is up as I bounce in my old truck down the road. The springs in the old seat creak with every bump. The worn fabric of the seats has ripped in different places, but don’t let it fool you; they are comfortable. Coasting in behind the shop, I spot that fancy sports car that flew by me. I immediately know who it is.
My truck door creaks as I slam it shut and spot Leland and Victor talking. With steps closer, I once again come into the back end of their conversation.
“They will help pay to move everything!” Victor speaks along with grand hand gestures.
“I’ve been here for over ten years. I’m not selling.” Leland firmly states.
Victor squares up to Leland. “Really? What’s keeping you here? It’s a rundown shop. This is a prime location. It’s close to the water, and it’s up and coming for new business expansion. You can probably get more money than what the value is. You’ve got to sell.”
“Selling? You’re thinking of selling?” I interrupt, scaring the shit out of both of them.
“Collins, this is a private conversation.” Victor holds his palm up toward me.
Oh. Hell. No.
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” Leland pins him with a stare, causing him to back down. Leland turns his whole body toward me, giving me his full attention. His eyes soften when they land on me. A small smirk touches my lips at the fatherly sincerity. “No, Collins. I am not selling.”
Victor slaps his hand on his thighs. “I don’t get it. They will give you a ton of money for this place. You can do a lot more and better with what they offer.” He reaches his arms in the air in a tantrum.
“You wouldn’t. It’s not about the money.” Leland shakes his head while trying to keep calm. “This is my family. We’ve worked hard in this place and for everything we have. I’m not a sellout.”
“You’re not selling out,” Victor says, as a matter of fact.
“I am if I entertain this offer. The people in this community depend on us.”
“It’s millions!” Victor’s voice notches up an octave.
“NO!” Leland screams. I’m slightly taken aback by his harsh tone. Never, in all my life, have I ever heard my big brother speak that way.
They are in a silent stare off about this place. After what seems like forever, Victor gives up. Seeing that Leland isn’t budging. “Collins, talk some sense into him.”
Ouch. Bad move. “Leland, I got the block parts for my girl.” A change of topic will soothe over this uncomfortable conversation.
“Finally found it, huh?” He smiles.
“Yeah! Took a while to get the junk off, but I got it. Plus, I found some parts for other cars that are sitting around. We might sell a few once fixed.” I proudly state.
“Your girl?” Victor pops in, confused.
I roll my eyes again for the second time today.
“Clearly, you are missing what is really important in life.” Leland, finally fed up with him, crosses his arms over his chest, which puffs his upper body into a challenging stance.
I gaze at Victor, and my eyes focus on his defined jaw. His smooth skin tensed and his hazel eyes were full of vigor.
“Why do you look like that?”
His question catches me off guard. It’s at that moment it registers what I look like. Sweaty and worn-out t-shirt, torn to shredded jeans, basic Adidas shoes with a hole in the side, and to top off this high-class look; I’m covered in sweat, dirt, and grease. Shit, did I put deodorant on this morning?
“I’ll grab the parts out of your truck. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and spend time with your girl? Thanks for the stuff.” Leland breaks through the frustrated and awkward conversation. He stalks between Victor and me, causing Victor to take a step back.
With a grand sigh, I shuffle my feet toward my girl. She’s parked in the back corner of the garage and I pull the cover from the back, exposing her hardened, rusted frame. A whiff of expensive aftershave and cologne hits my nostrils like a bat to the face. I refuse to turn and instead rest my hands on my hips. Admiring the progress over the last several years. I could only scrounge up a few parts here and there when I had the money.
“Hey, beautiful,” I coo.
“This is your girl?” Victor asks, confused.
My eyes hurt from the number of times they’ve rolled in my head. This one feels like one of those exorcist eye rolls. “A ‘70’ Chevelle, 450 horsepower. She’s feisty and sensitive.”
“She’s pretty for sure.” The tone dripping in sarcasm.
“Better than that import you are driving.” I quip.
He shakes his head next to me. “Doubt it.”
I squint hard at him. “Nothing beats the rumble of this girl. Loud. Proud. She’s a force with a hint of class that makes you want to drive around the curves of the earth and appreciate the power she silently holds. Imports are loud, annoying little suckers who only think of getting to the next point or moving on to the next best thing. These babies.” I point to my car. “Appreciate the road mapped out.”
Victor cocks his head to the side, and his blonde hair barely moves in the wind. “I never thought of it like that.”
“You wouldn’t. I mean, look at you today,” I gesture up and down at him. “You are pushing my brother to sell this place. To seal the deal and move on. Money to be put in pockets. Have you ever thought of how lonely that can be?”
“Hey, you don’t even know me.” He defends himself.
“Yet you judged me wholeheartedly on my appearance as a girl and assumed I didn’t know anything about cars.” I stand proud of making an excellent point.
He throws his hands up in defeat. “Guilty.”
“Now leave.” I turn toward my girl and rub my hands together. “You are in her light.”
Without looking back, I jump right into the engine and start replacing parts of the engine block I can reach. I tried not to give Victor a second thought, but that man never left like I told him to. He’s found a spot on a small hill behind the property, and he’s just staring at me through the bay doors. I try to ignore him and focus on my girl, but he’s making it so damn hard. I’m usually left alone, so his watchful eye throws me off. Screw this guy.
“Can I help you with something?” I yell up to him. Then I groan with disappointment at myself for giving in.
He pops up off the ground and walks toward me. “You just continue to shock me.”
“What does that mean?” I respond, feeling offended.
“I’ve just never met someone like you.”
Annoyed. Bothered. The list goes on. “Country club doesn’t look back at the help,” I lean back over my car. He bites his lip to prevent himself from speaking and allows himself to think. “Kind of low blow, you know.”
“Yet, Victor, extremely accurate.” Gosh, I just wish he would leave.
“So, I drive a fancy car, a lawyer, and I come from money–So what?”
“And you want my brother to sell his life for what? To make a buck? Make things easier for you?”
“It’s a good deal. I mean, there isn’t much here.” He gestures around the small garage.
“You want to learn more about the locals, right? Come by tomorrow when we are open for business. Meet some locals while working to see how much money we don’t have. How they depend on us to get from point A to point B. Research this kind of stuff on a ground level before you try to pull in big businesses. Big businesses that will raise taxes in an area where it’s already difficult to keep the lights on,” I word vomit.
I watch his gorgeous hazel eyes register what he’s just heard. Trying to soak it all in, mixing with the challenge of working in our world. “Fine. I’ll be here. Maybe I can get a few people to see my side of things.”
There it is. I’m really getting sick of his cocky attitude. “Wear something you can get dirty. Cause grease doesn’t come out of crisp white shirts.”
“What do I get paid?” he questions.
“What I do. That depends on the job and time spent on cars.” I walk toward him, causing him to step back.
“That doesn’t help me.” His brows furrow at my assertiveness.
“Then don’t come! If you show you do, if not, then peace out.” I taunt, continuing to force him to walk backward out of the garage.
I pull the rope to the big bay door, and it falls harshly to the ground. My fingers flick the lock with a relieved pant. I pace back and forth, trying to calm down. I can’t work on my girl when I am this angry. She doesn’t deserve that. Victor is a man who likes a challenge. I could see the gleam in his eye when I taunted him to come to work here. It would thrill a part of me to prove he sucks at life, but in all honesty, I hope he stays home.