by Ciara Knight
“Is that all? Sure, I can help you with that,” she said, her voice rising to the overly friendly tone. “You know she’s all wrong for you, though, right?”
He chuckled, relieved Drew wasn’t around to call him out for his nervous habit. “I’m interested in a business relationship only.”
“Right. You’re not looking for anything serious in your life. Yep, I remember.”
He opened his mouth to say something but decided it would be best to let that comment slide since he didn’t want to get into a deep discussion right now.
She studied her red nails. “There’s a great date place only a few blocks from town.”
“It’s not a date.” He slid his hand into the crook of her arm and leaned into her. “I know this isn’t fair. Listen, I respect you and I want to help. Even if it isn’t with the show right now, let’s get together and chat about ways we can help each other. Next week I’ll take you out for a nice dinner. How does that sound?”
She didn’t respond to his offer. Instead, she slipped from his reach and returned to steaming the dress in the corner of her shop. “Lester’s. It’s a steak place. She’ll love it. Red tablecloths and twinkling candlelight. You’ll woo her into your clutches in no time.”
“I don’t want to clutch her. As you said, she’s not like us.” Knox offered a parting smile that he knew would soften Jacqueline and then headed for the door.
“You’re right. She’s too good for us.”
He ignored Jacqueline’s parting words since he knew her tactics of trying to bait him with one thing and then draw him into a conversation about herself. The woman was manipulative when she wanted something, and she wanted him. Not in a romantic way but as a man to give her a chance at being famous.
Stella was the opposite of them, but that didn’t make her better. She was abrasive but intriguing. Tonight, he’d wine and dine her and figure out what made Stella Frayser tick. By tomorrow, he’d have her bending to his will. If there was one thing he knew in life, it was winning a woman over. Stella was different than his normal breed but still a woman.
Six
Stella wiped her hands and checked the price on the car diagnostic computer. It hadn’t changed since the last time she’d checked. It didn’t matter if it was two dollars or two million. She couldn’t afford it right now.
She eyed the 1957 Chevy she’d been restoring forever and knew her plans would be put on hold yet again. There went her promise to her abuelo once again to fully restore his beloved car. If she didn’t have to buy vintage parts, she could have it done already, but that would make her abuelo roll over in his grave.
Nope, it had to be done right. And if she didn’t want to sell her soul to the Internet sensation, she’d have to find a way to buy the diagnostic computer and suck it up fixing the mind-numbing fancy cars of today. She typed a quick email to the garage owner that had offered his computer secondhand to her, letting him know she wanted to buy it. How, she didn’t know, but she’d figure out some way to come up with the money.
She’d already tried social media, but she couldn’t compete with the chain shops outside of town, especially when they could do twice the work in half the time. Even if they didn’t do it well. She’d already tried refurbishing old cars, but no one in town cared about classics. She’d already tried to post fliers, create online advertisements, and more, but only a drizzle of customers had come and she needed a deluge.
“Hey, you open?” Jackie’s voice pierced the tranquil moaning sounds of Stella’s old garage space heater near her desk.
“Not for your car. Not yet at least.” She hit the lock button on her computer and hopped off the stool. “What do you want?”
“Direct as always, I see.” Jackie crossed the garage floor with the tapping of her heels against the cement. She draped a garment bag over the chair and set a shoe box on her desk. “I brought you something for your hot date tonight.”
“Felicia told you? That traitor. Last time I’m going to trust her.” Stella rubbed at her fingers, trying to dislodge the grime from the bed of her nails until she could stumble over an explanation. “It’s not a date. You’ve been misinformed.”
“Felicia didn’t tell me.”
Stella blinked at her and then narrowed her eyes. “What game are you playing?”
“Knox came by to let me know.” Jackie unzipped the garment bag. “After he told me about your date—”
“Not a date.” At least not a real one, something she kept telling herself.
“Your evening out,” Jackie said with a smile that looked as sweet as a Carissa greeting, but Stella knew better. That expression was covering a devious plan. “I knew I had to help.” Jackie slid a white, form-fitting, Paris runway dress from the bag and held it up to Stella.
“I’m not wearing that.”
“Don’t be silly. You don’t have anything but pants, combat boots, and a leather jacket. That isn’t non-date attire.”
“It’s not me. And this is a business dinner. Nothing more.” Stella backed away from the doll dress and rounded the desk to block Jackie’s fashion makeover. She wanted to go out, but not in Jackie style.
“Right. Then if you’re in this for your business, you need to play the game. The way to play the game is to distract Knox from what he wants so you can get what you want.” Jackie held the dress out to her. “Do you want to save your shop or not?”
Stella’s hand grasped the dress, but her gut was twisting with warning. No way she’d wear it, but perhaps the shoes would be something worth taking a look at. She could compromise and wear a nice shirt and shoes. “I don’t want to play games like you, Jackie. That isn’t me. If Knox wants to work with me, then he needs to accept me for who I am. If not, then I wouldn’t want to work with him.” Or anything else with him.
“Not even to save your grandfather’s garage?”
A sharp pain shot through Stella’s chest. She’d do anything in the memory of her abuelo, but this? Dressing herself up like a doll and parading around like a…a Jacqueline replica wasn’t an option. “I’m going to save my shop.”
“How?” Jackie set the dress on the back of the chair and rounded the desk.
“I’m going to buy a computer to work on newer, computerized cars.”
“You hate anything that isn’t older than our parents. You’ve never wanted anything newer than early 1970s.”
“Things change. I’m willing to open my garage to yuppies like you in order to make enough to keep this garage going.”
“So you have the money for the computer?” Jackie asked. “Town gossip mill says you have sixty days to turn this place around.”
Stella noticed her boots were covered in dirt. She’d clean them before tonight. That was making some sort of effort. “No, but I’ll just have to tighten my belt.”
“Tighten it any more, and it’ll make your waist smaller than a corset would.” Jackie paced from Stella’s desk to the Chevy and back. “Listen, you’re right. You shouldn’t have to dress up and flirt to win over Knox, but it is what it is. Maybe you can tell him you want to be paid. He seems to be pretty sure that this is the segment he wants to do. Make him work for it. You need to distract him with your pretty figure and then tell him what you want. It works. Trust me.”
“I’m not you,” Stella said with an air of disgust. “I don’t mean that you’re not, um… Heck, you’re you and I’m me. I’m not good at fashion and guys. You are. I’ll go tonight, tell him that I need the money, and see what he says.”
Jackie shook her head and sighed. “Oh, my poor Stella. You still believe that what happens in the world is fair.”
“Are you seriously saying that to me? The girl who was abandoned by both parents and dealt with a father being arrested that everyone in town knew about? Did you forget the teasing I endured and how many parties I was excluded from in middle school because parents didn’t want their kids hanging out with a con’s daughter? Your parents?”
“I’m not my parents,” Jackie
snapped, her perfect façade cracked.
“Listen. I think I know the score on life. That doesn’t mean I need to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can’t do it. I won’t. He either likes me for who I am, or he doesn’t.”
“For the show, you mean?” Jackie’s eyebrow rose.
Stella blinked, opened her mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. “Yes, of course.”
Jackie’s expression went from tight-lipped and guarded to soft-eyed acceptance. “You’re right. You should be you. If he doesn’t accept you for who you are, then you’re not the right person for his show.”
A gleam of hope shone in Jackie’s eyes. “I’ll leave the dress here in case you want it. If not, you can pass it on to one of the other girls.” She slid her purse up her arm and walked out of the building like it was a runway fashion show. The woman knew how to work a room.
Stella locked up the garage early, not concerned that anyone would come by who needed a repair anyway. If only her abuelo were here, he’d know what to do. He always seemed to keep this place going. Of course, the cars were different back then.
She went to her computer to shut it down when she noticed a reply from the shop owner with the computer.
Another offer came in, but I told him I’d check with you. Get me the money by the end of the day tomorrow and it’s yours. If not, then I’m selling it to the other buyer.
Stella collapsed into her chair. This was her only shot of getting a decent computer. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity, but her credit cards were maxed and she didn’t have enough cash to buy it.
The white dress lay there as if mocking her resolve. How bad could it be to dress up and smile at a man? Her stomach churned at the thought, but the torn and crumpled eviction notice on her desk hammered at her resolve.
This would be a desperate act by a desperate person, but what other option did she have? Let go of the only thing she had left in this world, or sacrifice her pride. If Knox Brevard wanted a woman who dressed up, spoke softly, and smiled a lot—someone completely not…herself…
She could do that.
Maybe.
Seven
Knox finished answering fan email on his phone and then dialed Drew. The phone rang over the car speaker three times, and Knox cursed under his breath at the once-best-friend turned sap. By ring four, Knox glanced out the car window, but nothing was going on outside the tree-lined side street where the inn resided. He’d never seen so little activity in his life.
“Hey, what’s up?” Drew answered on ring five with a lightness to his voice, as if they weren’t working on the biggest deal of their lives. The deal that would free them both from the Internet world.
“If you don’t have time to work because you’re too busy helping your girlfriend, then send me the contact info for this mystery producer. I’ll speak with him myself.” Knox didn’t even feel bad at the harshness of his tone.
“No need. He’ll be here tomorrow afternoon. He wants to meet at Stella’s garage.” Drew mumbled something to Carissa in the background. Couldn’t the guy pay attention for five seconds without interruption?
“The garage? Seriously?” Knox tossed his cell phone onto the passenger seat and headed through town.
“He insisted.” Drew cleared his throat. “I’ve got to run. Carissa has to head out, and I’d like to walk her over to Felicia’s house for some sort of get-together. I’ll head to the inn after so we can talk about a game plan for tomorrow.”
“I’ll be out.” Knox turned off of the main square and headed up the hill. “I have a meeting with Stella. I’ll catch up with you after. Probably about an hour or an hour and a half.”
“You’re meeting with Stella?” Drew asked with a weighted tone.
Not in the mood to listen to someone else tell him he wasn’t good enough for Stella, he reached for the End button on the console. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He pressed the button and pulled into the gravel lot. The rocks crunched under his wheels. The old-fashioned steel-siding building with an oversize garage door didn’t look inviting enough to film. It looked like something on a 1960s horror film. But Knox didn’t build his brand and Internet empire by giving up easily. He’d figure this out.
He got out of the car, slid his phone into his pants pocket, buttoned one button on his blazer, and strutted up the three rickety old steps to the glass door at the side of the garage.
A woman walked across the cement floor with long dark hair in a stark white dress. Now that was a woman he could see on his arm. The beautiful, hourglass shape looked unique, but when his gaze reached her face, he stumbled back off the top step.
His vision had to be playing tricks on him. That woman looked like Stella but different. Like a beautiful twin sister different. A put-together, jaw-dropping, car-stopping, naturally beautiful sister. His pulse double-timed.
The door lock clicked, nudging him to recover his composure. He switched on the charm in an instant. “Good evening.”
“Hi, Knox. Give me a minute.” The woman’s voice sounded like Stella. Her arms still moved in a mechanical way like Stella’s. She walked away, her ankles wobbling in the heels, but she managed to cross the room to a desk and return without tumbling over.
He cleared his throat, forcing words to come to the surface. Get it together, man. You’re Knox Brevard. Internet sensation. Ex-military. “I could’ve picked you up at your house after work. I didn’t mean to rush you.”
“I live here.”
He looked around and spotted a loft at the end of the garage. “You’re not serious.”
She did a biker-chick shrug. “I used to have a place in town, but it was a waste of money when I spend most of my time here anyway.”
“What about carbon monoxide?”
Stella brushed past him into the gravel parking lot. “Not a problem. Let’s go.”
That was the woman he’d met before, direct and short with conversation. He raced ahead to open her door for her, but when her ankle rolled on the rocks, he grabbed her arm to keep her upright.
A slight gasp shot from her lips, so he stood her up and let go. “Sorry. Reflex.”
“That’s right, you’re the hero type.” She tucked her long hair behind her ear and stepped cautiously the few more feet to his car.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“No, I just don’t need a hero.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s nice of you to take me to dinner to discuss business. Thank you.”
That was the nicest and longest she’d spoken to him so far. Maybe there were more layers to this woman than he’d thought. Interesting… He could usually analyze, evaluate, and make a plan of action on a date by the time they reached the car. He needed to focus.
She gracefully slid into the leather seat and pulled her legs into the car. He still couldn’t reconcile the frizzy-haired, abrasive girl in overalls with this woman. Intrigued, he raced around the car to his own seat and revved the engine, but it only clicked rapidly and didn’t turn over.
Heat flamed his ears. Luckily she didn’t know him well enough to see his tell like his military brothers always ragged on him about. Bozo Ears, they liked to call him back in the day. Never in front of the women, though. The men knew better than that. He missed the camaraderie of his men. The safety of their friendship. A man knew where he stood in a room full of soldiers and friends. “It’s a rental.”
She flicked on the light as if it would start the car, studied it, and then turned it back off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take a look.” She flung open her door. “Pop the hood.”
“What are you doing?” Knox jumped out of the driver’s seat.
“I’m fixing your car. That’s what I do.” Stella looked at him with wide eyes and mouth ajar, like he wasn’t following her words. He was following them, but they didn’t compute. A woman who looked like that didn’t get greasy and dirty working on cars.
“It’s probably a bad battery. I’ll call the rental company.” He slid his phone out
of his pocket, but she walked around him and popped the hood. “Only if you want to wait hours or ride my bike to dinner.”
He dialed the number, but it rang and rang until it went to voice mail. “No answer.”
“It’s after hours.” She jiggled and wiggled a few things under the hood, and he felt his man card melting in his pocket.
“I’ll call Drew or Lori. They’ll lend me their vehicle.”
“No need.” She pulled off one of her heels and banged it against the battery. “Try it now.”
“Seriously?” Knox stood there looking at her but didn’t move.
She waved her shoe around. “I’d prefer my work boots, but I guess there’s still some power in a stiletto. That’s what Jackie tells me, anyway.”
A car went by on the street, but he didn’t even look to see who passed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from this crazy, breathtaking, sassy woman who had grease on her hands and was dressed in high fashion.
“We can stand here all night or you can trust me.”
“Trust you?” Those two words gutted him. The last woman to say that to him had been Alima. He had to move away before Stella saw the pain in his eyes he knew he could never hide. His legs threatened to buckle, so he collapsed into the driver’s seat. With a little more forced energy, he pressed his foot to the brake and turned the key. To his amazement, the car roared to life.
A much-needed distraction to bring him back to the present.
He hid his old wounds behind his perfect smile and hopped out of the car. “You’re amazing, Stiletto Stella.”
“Great, we’re on a nickname basis now and we haven’t even reached appetizers.” Stella closed the hood and wiped her palms together, smearing the little bit of grease.