28
Wallace wasn't a man of many words. Brandon tried striking up a conversation during the drive, but only got a few syllables in return.
Still, the driver didn't seem grumpy. Once they pulled into the Sterling Grove Club parking lot, Wallace readily helped Brandon haul the new clothes into his beat-up Ford, seeing him off with a firm handshake and a polite smile.
Back to reality, Brandon thought, coaxing the engine to life so he could head home. The gentle slope down to the front gates gave him just enough roll to pop the clutch and bump-start it, but the drive back to his place wouldn't have many downhill stretches to bail him out.
He merged onto the highway, easing into the fast lane. A quick check of his rearview mirror showed clear asphalt behind him, so he pressed down on the gas, letting the tachometer climb.
Brandon's mind drifted, lingering on the late afternoon he'd spent at Sally's estate, her history with Amanda and Isabella, and how the widow had mentioned knowing both girls since they were little.
He wondered just how much he could reveal to her about what was going on between the three of them; Sally seemed genuinely open to the idea.
Or maybe she just assumes there's nothing real between us yet.
That they're just playing with me until they get bored or decide what they really want.
Then the old Ford gave out.
Lost in his thoughts, Brandon missed the warning light blinking on the dashboard.
The trouble only registered when the car shuddered, sputtering and hemorrhaging power.
He tried to nurse it, pressing the accelerator, doing anything to coax it along…
but he knew this car. Those weren't its usual petty groans.
That was the death rattle of an engine bound for the back of a flatbed.
Coasting on what little momentum remained, Brandon veered toward the shoulder, limping along until the wheels rolled to an absolute stop.
He sat there for a second, weighing his options, and tapped the steering wheel twice.
"Miss Janet that much, huh? You could've just told me."
"I swear, you have a sixth sense for the exact second I decide to call it a day.
" Janet threw open the cab door of the wrecker and hopped down, her petite frame making the drop look like she was climbing out of an eighteen-wheeler.
"The second I tell myself that's it, I'm done, you either call or roll into the shop. "
"My bad. I asked him nicely to hold out until tomorrow, but he wouldn't listen."
Janet leveled a stare at him for a beat, then cracked a smile. That caught him off guard.
"At least there's no smoke this time. Come on, give me a hand. Another one on the tab, right?"
"Guess so…"
"Fine. But you're buying dinner. I was literally about to order takeout when you called. I'm starving."
Brandon stepped back after securing one of the front wheels, watching as Janet engaged the winch to hoist the nose of his car off the ground.
At least I've got enough cash for that.
"Deal."
As the old Ford was hoisted up, Janet glanced through the window and caught sight of the pile of clothes heaped across the back seat.
"Don't tell me you're the one knocking over boutiques around town. Thought you found an honest job."
"No, not me," Brandon chuckled, recalling the news reports about a string of break-ins in downtown Narrow Creek. "If I remember right, they only hit women's boutiques."
"Hey, no judgment here, man."
"I'm telling you, everything back there is mine."
"Yours, you say…"
"I think I prefer you when you're pissed off."
"Ha, ha."
Janet drawled with exaggerated sarcasm before wrenching the truck door back open. "Come on, hop in. There's a new combo at Sunny Side I've been dying to try."
Janet swung the tow truck into a strip mall parking lot near downtown, roughly halfway between the garage and Brandon's apartment building.
She had driven him home more than once whenever the old Ford had to spend a few days in the shop, so she knew the way by heart.
Still, they had never stopped to eat together along the way.
Brandon couldn't help a grin as the short mechanic hopped down from the cab once more. Of course, he made sure she didn't see it; the last thing he wanted was to kill her uncharacteristically good mood.
Janet unclasped the straps of her denim overalls, folding the grease-stained bib inward to wear them as simple work pants. The black tank top she wore underneath was spotless, transforming her entire look in an instant.
Brandon had never really noticed her hands before, either. They were surprisingly delicate, yet clearly firm and capable. He was so used to seeing her in heavy work gloves that he'd never had a chance to look closely.
"Come on, lucky. I'm starving."
"If you eat too much, I'm calling today's tow paid in full."
"In your dreams." Janet jabbed an elbow into Brandon's ribs, catching him off guard and knocking the wind out of him. The sound of his wheeze made her puff her chest out, strutting ahead of him with an air of smug superiority.
They ordered the new combo she'd mentioned. It wasn't until the two trays arrived and the aroma of sizzling burgers hit him that Brandon realized just how ravenous he was, too.
"You using both dipping sauces?" Janet pointed at his tray.
"Nope, they're yours." Brandon slid them across to her.
"Whoa! Looks like that new gig really does pay well, huh?"
Janet caught Brandon's wrist across the table, eyeing the designer bracelet Isabella had given him. Brandon stumbled over the start of a sentence, caught completely flat-footed, before Janet let him go with a soft chuckle.
"Actually, it was a gift."
"I can tell. Seriously though, you barely start a new job and you've already reeled in a sugar mommy?"
Janet had no idea how close her tease hit to home.
It shattered Brandon's defensive shell, pulling a genuine laugh out of him.
Why did I tense up like that? It's not like I'm ashamed or anything.
And he wasn't; Brandon harbored no shame about his dynamic with Amanda and Isa.
It's just muscle memory from how I have to act at the club.
That's all. And he was right. He had grown so conditioned to the high-stakes game of keeping secrets on the clock—flouting the club's strict ban on fraternizing with members—that playing dumb had become second nature.
"Why? Couldn't it be from a girlfriend?"
"You? A girlfriend?"
"Yeah, why not? Who else would buy me something like this?"
"If you had a girlfriend, why'd you call a girl like me the second you got stranded on the side of the road?" Janet waggled her eyebrows at him, leaving Brandon even more tongue-tied.
"Well, look at that. This is new. I thought you were just a ball of rage and customer-service resentment."
He tossed it out as playful banter, but there was truth behind it. Brandon had never seen Janet outside the garage mood, and the sudden shift in her demeanor genuinely caught him off guard.
She shot back another quip, and the conversation drifted into lighter territory.
A few minutes later, their trays were cleared and they were heading back to the truck.
Janet dropped Brandon off at his place and thanked him for the burger.
She told him she'd keep him posted on when the car would be ready, reassuring him about the bill. That was just their routine.
"I know you're good for it. You always pay. Besides, you're not a massive pain in the ass like most of the creeps who pester me at the shop."
Brandon thanked her and waited until the tow truck with his battered Ford vanished around the corner before heading up to his apartment.