by Louise, Tia
She said she’s not dating him. Did she ever? He seems awfully familiar. She asked me if I’d seen her texts. Was she trying to tell me about him while I was hiding in Dover, taking care of my uncle?
Everything about last night swirls in a tornado of anger and frustration in my mind. Ralph Stern lost the creepy-nerd with braces vibe, and he actually looks like the kind of guy Drew’s dad would approve for her. He’s got the name and his church-lady mom, who always looked down on me.
Don’t forget he has that almond orchard he won’t shut up about, and he calls her Andrea. Nobody our age calls her Andrea. He sounded exactly like his judgy mother, and it was all I could do not to punch him in the face at Mrs. B’s table.
It’s the same way they all treated my uncle back in the day, and he was a fucking small-business owner. Now I am.
I have a degree I’ll use when I’m good and ready, I’m a veteran, and I’m still dealing with this shit. Talk about nothing ever changing.
Drew was right. What the fuck am I doing here? I thought I came back to make peace beside Danny’s grave. Done. Now why?
It’s more than that. I know. I’m still here because I want to be sure she’s okay.
She seems to have a good job. She has a nice, pedigreed guy who’s as boring as watching paint dry just waiting for her to notice him. A growl rumbles in my chest, and I know the truth in that moment.
Last night, I held her in my arms. Even if it was less than thirty seconds, my whole body moved to hers. I was home again, safe and comforted. If Drew married someone else, it would kill me. But how can I be with her after what I’ve done, what I’ve become? I’m still so fucked up.
A mug of coffee is in my hand, and I nearly toss it when I open the garage door to find Billy standing right there. He’s again wearing black skinny jeans and a sleeveless black tee with Pink Floyd across the front. In his hand is a stick about two inches in diameter and a short-bladed knife with a thick handle.
He squints up at me. “Hey.”
“Dotty give you my message?”
“She stopped by last night with her husband. Said you needed me to come back today.”
I motion for him to follow me inside. “What’s that in your hand?”
Glancing down, he turns the stick over, revealing deep rivets cut in a pattern along one side. “It’s just something I do to pass the time.”
“That’s pretty good. What’s it going to be?”
He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. “Don’t know yet.”
“Here.” I open a locker in the back corner and take out the old work shirt I used to wear. It’s thick canvass and has Mack’s Garage in a patch on the front pocket along with my name. “Wear this for now, while you’re working.”
“Do you need me to sign something or anything?” He looks around.
“I can pay you in cash if you need me to.” It’s not my business to ask questions.
“I got my social security card. I’m not doing anything illegal.”
Apparently I’m the asshole making assumptions as well.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean… Hang on.” I take a step toward the office. “I think Mack had an application somewhere you can fill out. Give me a second.”
I go into the glass-encased office just as a yellow Miata pulls in front of the first bay. Billy walks slowly to greet whoever it is, while I dig through my uncle’s old files. It was always just the two of us, but I vaguely remember filling out a W-9.
My fingers land on the off-centered copy, and I grab the old clipboard holding work orders. I’m just walking back into the garage, when a woman rushing up to give me a hug makes me stop.
“I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” I’m surrounded by the familiar scent of perfume and hairspray, and I pull back to see Leslie Grant blinking up at me.
She’s wearing a silky red dress that plunges low in the front, showing off her cleavage, and on one arm is an oversized basket. Billy’s looking at her like she’s one of those old vintage Playboy calendars hanging in the bathroom come to life.
I clear my throat and step back. “Leslie. I didn’t know you were still in Oakville.”
“Where else would I be?” She laughs, and pulls the basket around in front of her.
The movement squeezes her breasts closer together and Billy exhales a little noise.
I slap the clipboard against his chest. “Take that and fill it out. Leave it on my desk.”
“Yes, sir,” he says, slowly walking away but not taking his eyes off our visitor.
Leslie’s green eyes don’t stray from mine. “I brought a little breakfast. Dotty said you just got back in town, and I figured you could use some groceries. Muffin?” She pulls back the cloth cover and inside are purplish-tinted muffins. “They go great with coffee. Do you have some?”
“Ah, yeah, I just made a pot in the house.” I hold out a hand and we start toward the small cottage.
She follows me through the door into the miniscule dining area with the old linoleum table and only two chairs.
“Not much has changed, has it?” She looks around before flashing me a big smile. “I’m sure you’ll fix it up.”
The basket is on the table and she walks to the kitchen, opening cabinets until she finds plates over the sink. She reaches for them, and I glance away from her round ass straining in that dress.
“I might have to make some more coffee if you’d like some.” Going to the pot, I pull out the carafe and tilt it to the side.
“Don’t you dare!” Leslie pats my arm like she’s scolding me playfully. “I didn’t come here to make you work. I came here to take care of you.”
Something about the way she says it makes my stomach tighten. Leslie was always playing games like this, making eyes at me over Danny’s shoulder. Then I’d catch them in the back room either with Danny’s dick in her mouth or doing it doggy style against the wall.
She sets the old beige plate in front of me and pours a cup of coffee. “How are you doing… really?” She leans forward, giving me a straight shot down the front of her dress.
I pull up and take a step back. I might be conflicted over what to do about Drew, but I’m sure as hell not conflicted enough to get tangled in this web.
“I’m doing okay,” I lie, taking the mug and holding it between us. “Thanks for the muffins. I’d better get out and check on things. It’s Billy’s first day.”
She puts her hand on my waist. “Grayson. You can talk to me. We all know you were there when Danny died. You must be devastated.”
Normally, conversations like this cause my anxiety to rise, but I don’t have time for involuntary responses. A loud knocking on the door interrupts us, and Billy is outside calling through the door.
“Mr. Cole? I’m sorry to interrupt, but a customer is here asking for you.”
I pat Leslie on the shoulder. “Thanks again. I really do have to get to work.”
Setting the coffee on the counter, I charge out the door into the garage, curious as to who might be here so early.
A knot forms in my throat, and I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or alarmed when I see the car of my dreams, Carl Harris’s cherry red Jaguar, sparkling in the sun.
Drew stands just inside finishing up with the tow truck driver. She looks better than any vintage pinup in jeans and a basic tee. Her hair is done in a loose braid that hangs over one shoulder. My chest tightens at the sight of her when she turns and walks up beside her father’s car. I’ll never forget the day he brought it here… or how that day ended.
I do my best to act casual. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, there.” Drew gives me a dazzling white smile, and I have the sudden urge to kiss her. She seems to have forgotten whatever was bothering her last night. “I need a car, and Ruby suggested you might get this one going for me. At least I know you’ll be careful with it.”
I walk around the vehicle, inspecting the perfect chassis, the shining chrome, the pristine leather seats. “Yes, I will.”
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Billy walks up beside me and lets out a low whistle. “When was the last time you drove it?”
“I’ve never driven it.” Her chin drops, and she scuffs her brown cowboy boot on the pavement. “But to answer your question, I can’t remember the last time Dad took it out. Maybe ten years ago?”
“That long?” Billy’s face is total astonishment. “Why?”
I know she doesn’t want to answer that question. “Billy, get behind it and push it in here over the lift.” I step forward and put the gearshift into neutral.
Holding the steering wheel, I guide the car into the bay with Drew right behind us just as Leslie emerges from the door leading to the cottage. I don’t miss the flash of confusion mixed with anger in Drew’s eyes.
“Well, good morning, Drew!” Leslie crosses her arms under her breasts and stands a little too close to me. “What brings you here so early?”
Drew steps back, hands on her hips, doing her best to smile. “I’m getting Dad’s old car checked out. What are you doing?”
“Oh, you know, men need a good breakfast. I was just making sure Gray had something to eat.” Her voice is sending a message I don’t like.
I especially don’t like the way she touches my bicep.
“I’ve got to get to the clinic.” Drew spins on her heel and heads for the door.
I take off after her. “I’ll give you a call once I’ve checked everything.”
My voice is low, professional. Nothing is going on here, and I’m not trying to send any wrong messages.
“I can stop by after work.” She’s not slowing down, so I reach out and catch her arm.
“Hang on.” It stops her, but she’s still mad. I know my girl. “I’ll probably have to order some parts. I expect if it hasn’t been driven in ten years, I’ll need to check the brakes, steering, suspension… the electrical systems.”
I’m stalling, trying to keep her close until she’s less pissed.
“Just do what you need to do.”
“Okay.” I want to say something more, but she jerks her chin toward Leslie.
“Does that include her?”
“She just showed up a few minutes ago.” My grip turns into a stroke down the length of her arm. I want to thread her fingers with mine. I want to tell her she has nothing to worry about. Nothing.
I might be broken, guilty, undeserving of her… it doesn’t change the fact she still owns my heart.
She wavers a moment, her pretty blue eyes flickering to where Leslie waits inside the garage with Billy before returning to mine. The electricity between us sizzles like always. It never went away.
Her voice is less angry when she speaks. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“You’ll hear from me. I have your number.”
“I know you do.” She turns, and I watch a few moments as she crosses the street and heads up the sidewalk, her sassy stride making me smile in spite of my good intentions.
Chapter 13
Drew
“But you didn’t have sex with the babysitter?” I clarify, making notes on the legal pad.
Riley Sturgiss is a new patient, a petite older teen, with bright red hair and dark eyes. She disclosed her issue is social anxiety, but I’m starting to think it might be more like compulsive lying.
Also, I’m still really pissed about whatever the hell was going on at Mack’s garage this morning.
Or I guess it’s Gray’s garage now.
Her cheeks turn pink, and she shakes her head. “I didn’t want to go to the open house, and I knew if I was grounded, I’d have to stay home.”
“You might have jeopardized your babysitter’s reputation… or worse. Could it have been construed as statutory rape?”
“Oh my gosh!” Her brown eyes widen. “I don’t think so?”
“Then you told your boss at Hamburger Heaven you used to be a man?” I give her a compassionate smile. “Are you a trans female?”
Riley chews her bottom lip. “Does it matter?”
“I’d say yes, it matters a lot.”
Her voice is quiet, apologetic. “I’m not.”
I make another note. “How would telling him you’re trans help you?”
“I thought he might hit on me.”
My brow furrows. “Has he made inappropriate advances toward you in the workplace before?”
Her chin drops. “No.”
My voice is calm, measured. “So if it wasn’t to protect yourself from sexual harassment…”
I wait, seconds tick, finally she answers. “I did it to get out of corporate training. They don’t have unisex bathrooms.”
“I see.” It’s starting to make sense now.
“I can’t stand around in groups.”
“Why do you say that?”
We wait. She wavers. It’s okay. I smile kindly.
Then it breaks, words gushing like water. “I stand there and it always gets to that point where everybody’s looking at me, waiting. The pressure keeps building. They’re all waiting for me to say something, and if I don’t they all think I’m a bitch or I’m unfriendly and they won’t ever talk to me again.”
I make a new note on my legal pad. “Were you quiet as a child?”
She shrugs. “I guess… I just… I never knew what to say to people.”
“Were you punished for it?”
She doesn’t answer. She studies her fingernails, blinking quickly. My heart breaks a little, but I’m not trying to make her cry.
“It’s okay. We’re here to find answers, right?” Ducking my head, I catch her eye and give her another smile.
She gives me a very brief grimace in return.
“I have a little assignment for you to try.” I take out my white notepad. “I want you to write down the times you told a fib. More importantly, I want you to think about what happened right before that. Maybe we can find other ways to handle these situations. Ways that won’t get you or anybody else in trouble.”
I tear off the slip of paper and hand it to her. She takes it, reading slowly as I show her out. Despite the personal crap in my life, we made a little breakthrough here. I make a note. Riley is very sensitive. I don’t want to be frustrated or on edge when I meet with her next time.
Once she’s made it to reception, I step across the hall where Ruby is at the copy machine. My stomach is burning thinking about Gray with Leslie, seeing him so relaxed and familiar with her. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t?” She doesn’t look up from punching numbers.
“He was so broken, talking about how he isn’t the same person anymore.”
My friend’s eyes flicker up to mine. “Hang on.” She hops over and shuts the door, quickly twisting the wands to close the mini blinds. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”
“It makes no sense. Lies make no sense.”
“Need me to take the new patient?”
I shake my head, although I probably should have postponed my appointments for today. I can’t do that. I have to be a professional.
Still… “I thought he needed space to heal. I was giving him space. I was waiting… like always.” I’m pacing the break room fuming. “Then I find him over there healing with Leslie Grant.”
“That whore. Of course, she’s going to rush right in the minute he returns. She always had her eye on him when they were in school.”
I’m chewing on my lip when Ruby hands me a cold soda. “Drink this. It’ll help you cool off.”
“I’m cool. I’m better than cool. I’m so cool…” I’m like Riley. I’m having a breakthrough. “I’m not crying anymore. I’m not waiting around anymore. I’m going on a date.”
“Oh!” Ruby bounces on the balls of her feet. “Let me set you up on Bumble!”
Shaking my head, I hold up a hand. “I’m going out with Ralph Stern.”
“No!” My best friend draws back in shock. “Not the almond king! Try a dating app first.”
“After all the horror stories you’ve tol
d me? No thank you. At least I know what to expect with Ralph.”
“You expect to age a hundred years in an hour? To die a slow, painful death of massive boredom covered in almond milk?”
“Ralph is not that bad.”
“Ralph is that bad.” She slaps her hand against her forehead. “Sure, he lost the braces and grew two feet and got better looking, but he would never find your clit. Not even if it had an almond on it.”
She’s probably right, but I’m not in the mood to defend Ralph. My mind is too busy brooding over my morning. Also, I am not having sex with Ralph Stern. Ew.
“If he’s having survivor guilt, why won’t he talk to me?” I cross my arms over my stomach. “Nobody knows Gray like I do. I’m a therapist…”
“Maybe… But didn’t we learn it’s not always a good idea to treat close friends or family?” Ruby takes her copies off the machine. “Like how surgeons don’t do surgery on their own loved ones?”
“Now you suddenly remember what we learned in college.”
“Don’t be shitty. I’m trying to help you.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter now. I’m moving on!”
“You’re moving in the wrong direction.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not sitting around waiting to find out anymore.
Feeling energized, I return to my office. I have two more clients to see today, and I’m not letting a man mess up my career. Especially not a man with as little loyalty as Grayson Cole.
I’m exhausted from fighting thoughts about Gray all day when my last client leaves. It’s five o’clock, and I have a text waiting on my cell. Of course, it’s him.
Gray: Car’s ready for pickup. Good and bad news.
He’s got a lot of nerve texting me about my car, I mentally huff. Although, I suppose it’s what a mechanic is supposed to do when he’s working on your car. Still, I’m not ready to let Gray off the hook.
When I arrive at the garage, the doors are closed, but I hear voices coming from inside. Thankfully, they’re both male voices. I wonder if I should knock. Instead, I just open the door. It is a place of business, after all.