It didn’t take me long at all to walk back to my room, strip out of my protective suit and grab my purse. I doubted I’d need it, but I’d watched an episode of a show once of someone who was in a wreck, died and couldn’t be identified, so now I didn’t like not having my ID with me at all times. That and my paint-specked leggings didn’t have pockets to put my cell phone in. Then I headed out of the room and made my way toward the parking lot, kicking the door to the shop closed behind me.
Rip was already waiting inside his truck, chin high while he relaxed against the headrest. His lips were moving just enough so that I knew he was either talking to himself… or lip-synching along to whatever was playing on the radio.
Some part of me knew he was singing along.
I wasn’t going to think it was adorable. Nope. Not when he’d been so strange and on edge the last few days. Not when he’d been unfair over something that hadn’t been all my fault. It wasn’t going to happen.
…but it was happening.
I managed to keep the smile on my face, one hand holding my purse, the other holding my donut, and watched as Rip’s head turned to look at me as I walked toward his truck. Before I was there, he reached over and opened it for me from the inside, pushing the door open. I climbed in, careful not to scratch the leather or do anything else that would screw up the completely restored interior.
“I tried to go as fast as I could,” I told him as I set my purse on the floor and reached for the seat belt.
He put the truck into drive. “I’ve only been out here a minute.”
I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye as I closed the door and finally set the small white bag on my lap, wondering once again why he wanted me to go with him.
And where was Mr. Cooper?
I waited until he’d pulled the truck through the gate that was connected to the fence that went the entire way around the building before I asked, “Do you mind if I make a quick call?”
The only answer I got was a shake of his head.
I bent over and pulled my phone out of my purse, going straight to my favorites and looking for one of the only two men’s names I had saved under my favorites.
The line only rang twice before a familiar voice picked up. “Little moon,” Mr. Cooper answered, sounding totally normal, totally fine.
“Hey, Mister C,” I replied.
“I meant to call you last night. Miguel texted me over happened with Rip”—I shifted my eyes to the side to make sure that someone wasn’t listening. If he was, his face didn’t register any signs that he’d overhead Mr. Cooper talking about him—“but Lydia came home and it slipped my mind.”
“It’s okay,” I said before he could keep going. “Everything is all right.”
The sigh he let out told me he didn’t agree with me, and that warmed my heart.
“I was calling to tell you that I’m going with Rip to the auction today.”
Silence.
I slid my gaze back to Rip and found the cheek closest to me doing this weird twitch thing.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but I just wanted to let you know in case anyone calls to ask you where I’m at. He said you weren’t coming to the shop today.”
There was another beat of silence. Then, “Okay. Sure.” Another moment of silence. “That’s good, Luna.”
“Are you okay?”
More quiet, then, “I have a doctor’s appointment. I’ll be in tomorrow.”
A doctor’s appointment? “Are you having problems with your blood pressure again?”
The hum he made in response was 1000 percent fake. It was his way of not wanting to lie but not wanting to say the truth either.
“That’s what I thought,” I mumbled. “Good luck with your appointment then and let me know how it goes.” I paused. “Don’t forget to tell the doctor about how you’ve been sneaking sandwich meat and frozen pizza at work when you think no one is looking.”
I hung up after Mr. Cooper started chuckling and eventually got out that he’d see me on Friday.
But seriously, I hoped he’d tell his doctor about the snacks we both knew he had no business eating. I had done what I could by throwing stuff away when I found it. Slipping my phone back inside my purse, I sat back up and settled my hands on my thighs, glancing at Rip out of the corner of my eye.
“I could’ve told you he had a doctor’s appointment,” he claimed, steering the truck into a left-hand lane.
I couldn’t help but bite the inside of my cheek and make a face. He could’ve told me? “I wasn’t sure you knew.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure he would have cared enough to know or ask. Then again, based on the things I had overheard, Rip would probably ask Mr. Cooper to bring in a doctor’s note to prove he’d actually done what he’d said he would.
But that wasn’t supposed to be any of my business.
Neither one of us said anything for a while. I looked out my window and sometimes glanced at Rip but really spent the whole time telling my body to relax. I wasn’t going to hold this grudge against him when he had sort-of, kind-of apologized, at least apologized more than anyone else in my life usually had or did. I’d forgiven people for doing worse. There was something going on with him that I didn’t entirely understand, but I could be patient. I could be understanding. Some people just had to work things out on their own.
Most importantly, I needed to remember—and accept—that he was my boss. As much as I might try, as much as I might sometimes wish in the back of my mind, in the deepest, most secretive corner of my soul, that was all there was ever going to be. We weren’t friends, and he had no interest in being nice or polite or being kind.
He was fine not being anyone’s favorite. It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he was ever going to want.
My heart ached for a moment as I sat there, thinking for a second about that thought. About how I’d spent the last three years eyeballing and thinking a little too much about someone who I had no chance with. It was just… admiration. Serious admiration.
But maybe instead of daydreaming about that Louie Vuitton purse I would realistically never save up to buy, I could go to the outlet and get a beautiful purse for a tenth of the price. It would do everything the other one did. The only difference was, it would be within my reach. I could afford it.
It wouldn’t need to be a dream. It wasn’t like I believed in them in the first place.
“You gonna eat that donut today?” Rip asked out of nowhere.
I glanced over at him. Was he trying to make a joke? Nothing about his face looked particularly amused or playful but… “Yes.”
“You’re not on a diet, right?” he asked as he steered us onto the freeway. I didn’t even know where the hell we were going.
If he would have been anyone else—and if my previous thoughts hadn’t been about Rip and his lack of friendships—I would have laughed. Instead, I barely managed not to smirk. “No.”
I mean, I wasn’t as thin as I used to be back when I’d been a teenager. I also worked too much—and was too lazy—to hit the gym five days a week… but I tried my best. I ate decent, some days I ate better than decent, but mostly, I was never going to say no to a donut. Or a slice of cherry pie.
But especially not my favorite donut.
“There a reason you haven’t eaten it then?”
I touched the tips of my fingers along the top of the bag, which had been rolled down. “I figure I could eat it at the auction. I didn’t want to make a mess in your car.”
Those eyes flicked in my direction. “You won’t.”
“But I don’t want to take a chance.” I didn’t need to look around to see that the inside was immaculately clean. He kept the outside beautifully detailed constantly. Even his office was pretty spotless.
“It’s just a truck. If there are crumbs, we have vacuums,” was his argument in that cool, laidback voice.
That wasn’t at all what I was expecting him to come back with. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure, Luna
. Eat your fucking donut. I didn’t buy it for you to look at.”
I mean, if he was going to insist.
I unrolled the top of the bag and stuck my hand in to pull out my treat. My treat that my boss had bought me. Because he might have felt a little bad. I thought. Maybe.
Which he should.
Leaning forward, I grabbed my phone out of my purse and hit the camera icon. Glancing at Rip, I noticed he was still looking forward. I took a picture of the donut, attached it to a text message then shoved my phone under my thigh.
“Didn’t know you were one of those people that took pictures of their food,” he said quietly.
Those people. I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling.
“My little sister really likes these,” I found myself explaining, still trying not to smile. “I’m just rubbing it in her face.”
He took so long responding, I didn’t expect it when the question out of his mouth was, “All three of them are younger than you, yeah?”
I wasn’t even sure how he knew I had three in the first place.
“Yeah, three. My baby sister, the one I sent the picture to, will be eighteen in a few weeks. She’s a senior in high school,” I told him, bringing the donut up to my face and taking a bite, just barely holding back a moan at how good it was. “The other two are nineteen and twenty-one, but they don’t live with me anymore.”
The only thing he did to acknowledge that he’d been listening was nod, and I didn’t feel like offering up any more information that he probably didn’t care much about.
He still didn’t say a word as I ate the rest of it, ignoring how that much sugar made my stomach hurt, but too freaking bad.
Just as I was about to take the second to last bite, I paused. “You want a piece?”
There was a huff that had me turning my neck to look at him. The only side of his face I could see was tilted up. “I’m good.”
I finished off the rest of it before he could change his mind. I was in the middle of licking my fingers clean when Rip spoke up again.
“What time you want to leave tomorrow?”
I almost gulped, but doing that would have been a hint of how much I was dreading the trip, and I didn’t want to give him a reason not to go with me. “The service is at eleven. Is seven-thirty fine?”
There was no hesitation at least verbally, but from where I was sitting I could see the way his cheek flexed, and it only confirmed that I didn’t want to make him think twice about agreeing. “Works for me. I’ll pick you up,” he offered.
“Okay.”
Perfect. Just perfect.
I didn’t want to go. God, I didn’t want to go.
But I was and that wasn’t going to change, so I needed to live with it and accept it. There was no point in ruining the day dreading the inevitable. So, I changed the subject and kept my voice bright. “So, is there anything specific you’re looking to buy today?”
It was the right question to ask.
And if listening to him talk wasn’t a hardship, it was only because he had a nice voice.
* * *
I’d lost him.
Crap!
Rip and I had split up half an hour ago. We’d gotten to the auction early enough to really get a good look around at all the cars that were parked in the junkyard’s lot. I’d never been to this particular one before, but I’d heard all about Rip and Mr. Cooper sometimes scoring some really great deals here. This auction only happened once every other month; on some visits, they didn’t buy anything. It was one of the smallest auctions on this side of the state. A couple times a year, one of the two men would go to the bigger sales that took place in other cities along the southwest.
Fortunately, I’d found two cars that hit almost all the criteria Rip had given me on the way over. One of them had a little more rust on it than I would have liked, but it was still in better shape than a few of the cars that he’d bought in the past. The other one was great though, but I’d spotted a couple other guys from restoration shops I was familiar with eyeing it too. We all made a point not to make eye contact with each other, so I knew they were serious about it. It wasn’t exactly going to be a steal, but it would have been worth it.
And now the auction was set to start in… a few minutes, and I had no clue where he was. I had tried calling his cell, but he hadn’t answered. I remembered seeing him leave his phone in the pickup. Reaching up to the tips of my toes, I looked over the lot, trying to ignore all the blonds and the men with black hair, looking for the one with the perfect shade of mostly mahogany brown.
I’d already had one man stop and ask if there was something he could help me with. I really doubted he believed me when I told him I was looking for my boss. Turning around to face the end of the lot that I’d walked around for the last almost hour, I stretched my chin up as high as I could. Looking, looking, looking…
Bingo.
Taller than everyone else, bigger than everyone else, and wearing that tight shirt that should have been too hot to wear in Houston, but I’d bet it was one meant for the heat, I spotted Rip.
He had his hands on his hips while he talked to another man two or three inches shorter than him.
I wasn’t sure why it surprised me that he knew people, much less that he seemed to be having a conversation with someone, but it did. It wasn’t like he didn’t talk, but usually he was talking at people rather than with them. Keeping my gaze on him so I wouldn’t lose him again, I started making my way over.
I took in the other man. He looked about Rip’s age, if not a little older and leaner. But it was the tattoo he had on one side of his neck that had me focusing.
I glanced at Rip, then back at his friend, and kept my gaze there. Tattoos poured down the man’s arms in thick, black marks that were really hard to distinguish, but something about them….
The man shook his head at Rip, but his body stayed relaxed.
But Rip… Rip was looking around by that point. For me?
“Ladies and gentlemen, the auction will begin in five minutes. I repeat in fiveeee minutes,” a voice crackled over the speakers that the auction had set up right by a makeshift podium.
Shit.
I raised my hand over my head and waved it. “Rip!” I yelled.
His head snapped to the left before slowly moving to the side more, like he was looking for me.
I waved some more, feeling bad for interrupting him but knowing I needed to show him what I thought he would want to see before time ran out. That was why he’d brought me over, wasn’t it? Screw it. I headed over, weaving through the small crowd as fast as I could. It didn’t take me long at all to make it a few feet away from where Rip and the other man were still standing. I waved my hand as far over my head as possible. “Boss-man!”
He must have seen me because he dipped his chin, his eyes covered with sunglasses, in my direction. But his mouth began moving. Fast.
But not quickly enough before I was at his side, sharing a smile between him and his friend. His friend who was looking at me with a surprised but curious expression on his face while Rip ended what he’d been saying with a “see you later” that was all clipped.
And before I could get out a word, my boss slapped his palm against the other man’s and turned toward me.
Okay.
He didn’t want me to meet his friend. That was fine. Sure.
He was my boss. There was no reason for me to meet his friend.
The other man let out a snort before shrugging and turning on his heel to go who knows where.
The smile I gave Rip was genuine. He was my boss and he owed me nothing but a paycheck for the hours I worked. “I’m sorry I yelled and came over, but I wanted you to see these two cars before the auction started,” I told him, not letting curiosity get the better of me.
There was something off about his facial expression. “What’d you find?” he asked, sounding totally normal, or as normal as ever. Not giving me a single hint who the other man had been, but why wou
ld he?
I hooked my thumb over my shoulder to aim it in the direction of where I’d found the goods. “There’s rust on both of them, but nothing worse than what you’ve gotten before. Let me show you, boss man. I think with a little TLC, they’d look really nice.”
His eyes seemed to sweep over my face and head, and I didn’t miss the way he positioned his body to block me from seeing the man he had been talking to. He said, “Show me.”
I did, and I was pretty proud of myself when he ended up winning both.
Chapter 8
When my alarm went off the next day, dread like I hadn’t felt in years instantly made me want to vomit.
It had been a long, long time since I’d been so nervous or overwhelmed that I wanted to puke.
But I still dragged myself out of bed. I had to get up. I didn’t want to, but I had to.
I showered even though I had the night before, put on makeup, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen, ignoring the way my knees wanted to shake and my stomach wanted to revolt. I heard pots clanking from the kitchen area. I was usually on my way to work by this time, and my sister Lily was usually in the shower, so it surprised me to hear her banging away.
If the clangs meant anything, it was that she was still mad at me. I hadn’t seen her at all the last two days. She’d been in her room by the time I got home and hadn’t bothered coming out to say hi.
Sure enough, the second I entered the kitchen and found her, violently scooping what looked like oatmeal into two bowls on the counter, it confirmed she was in a bad mood. Lily was like me: she was a morning person. Unlike our other two sisters, I had never had to be on her case about waking up on time for school. I was usually in a good mood, but Lily was always in a better mood than me.
Today being the exception from the look and sound of it.
“Morning,” I told her pretty softly, hating that we were in this position in the first place.
She didn’t look at me, and it gave me the chance to see she hadn’t showered or anything yet. She was still in her pajamas. “Morning,” she pretty much grunted, almost making me smile.
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