Mia gathered up the rest of her things, smiling bashfully at the fact that Rami had been so intent on taking her out for coffee. Thinking about the man, she couldn’t deny that he was attractive; he was taller than her by a good couple of inches, which was rare enough, and even without the tailored suit, he had had what she sensed would probably be a nice body under the clothes, lean and slightly muscled. His skin had been flawless, his hair healthy and full, his face downright gorgeous.
But even if he hadn’t made a disastrous first impression on her by screaming at her, calling her a bitch and insulting her intelligence, Mia couldn’t imagine adding dating to her already-full schedule. One of her coworkers, an art teacher, had asked her out for coffee several weeks before and Mia had been forced to turn him down; she spent basically all her free time with her mother, who needed so much help around the house, in addition to being unable to drive herself to all of her appointments with the various doctors she saw.
Mia had given up on the idea of seeing anyone months—maybe even years—before. When she’d been in college, she had managed to find time to date occasionally, but as her mother’s condition had worsened, she had had to spend more and more time taking care of her. Eventually the invitations had slowed down, and she had ceased to look for them.
Her drive home was less eventful than the previous day’s, and Mia walked through her door relieved that the damage to her car hadn’t been worse. “At least,” she said to herself, locking the door behind her and walking the few steps to the beat-up couch she considered almost as an old friend, “It can’t take them more than a few hours to get it done.” She took out her phone and called the number Rami had given her. After two rings, someone picked up.
“A-A Auto-Body, Lenny speaking.”
“Hi, Lenny,” Mia said, clearing her throat as quietly as possible. “I think—I hope—someone I know called you earlier to make arrangements for a repair.”
“Who is this?” Mia imagined Lenny in her head; the voice suggested a middle-aged man, and Mia felt oddly at ease. She thought he might look a lot like her dad had, years before he’d passed.
“My name is Mia Campbell,” she said, feeling her heart beat a little faster. If Rami had been playing her… “I was—ah—involved in a collision with a man by the name of Rami al-Hassan yesterday…” She wasn’t quite sure how to phrase her question so as to find out what she wanted to know—had Rami actually made arrangements to pay for her repairs, or had he merely given her the contact information? If he hadn’t made arrangements, she was going to contact her insurance and try and get them to cover the repair, whether Rami wanted her to or not.
“Ahh, yeah, Rami called me earlier today. Mentioned he’d been in another crash.” The man on the other end of the line laughed. “He told me to take care of everything for you—he already has payment info on file. Can I ask you for the year, make, and model? I want to order any parts I might need before I leave for the day.” Mia sighed with relief; Rami hadn’t been playing her for a fool, and had actually made the arrangements.
“Uh, sure,” Mia said, trying to recall the details in question. “It’s—ah—a ’99 Volvo sedan. I think it’s an S70?”
“That sounds about right,” Lenny said. “Color?”
“Dark green…hunter green, I think you’d call it.” On the other end of the line, Mia heard papers rustling, and Lenny muttering notes to himself.
“You can go ahead and bring it in first thing tomorrow morning,” he said. “It’s still drivable, right?”
“Oh—yeah, I don’t think anything under the hood is messed up, just the back end.” She swallowed. “And you’re sure that Rami is set to pay for this, right?”
“Absolutely,” Lenny said, and Mia heard the reassurance in the older man’s voice. “Rami gets into scrapes like this from time to time. I’ve told him he should trade in that Tesla thing for something more practical—or at least something with front-end collision control! But you know how some guys are.”
Mia chuckled. “Yeah,” she said. “I know. So what time do you open tomorrow morning?”
“Since it’s a weekend, we’ll be open from nine,” Lenny said. “I’ve got a spot in reserve for you, so if you can’t make it in right then, you’ve still got priority. Rami insisted. I can’t make any guarantees, of course, but based on what he said about the damage, I should be able to get it done in a few hours.”
“Thank you,” Mia said, smiling to herself. “I’ll get it there right when you open. I don’t want to put you out.”
“No trouble there,” Lenny said. Mia heard the squeak of a desk chair tilting back. “If you need someone to pick you up…”
“I think I should be fine,” Mia said, waving her hand to brush the idea aside, even though she knew Lenny couldn’t see her. “Thank you so much for being so accommodating.”
Lenny laughed again, a rich, hearty chuckle. “No problem,” he said. “I’ll expect you at nine. If you’ll excuse me, I should get these parts ordered for you before I leave the shop.”
“Thank you again,” Mia said. “I hope you have a great night!” She ended the call feeling much more comfortable than she had when she started it. Mia plugged her phone into its charger and kicked off her shoes, striding through the small living room of her little house and into her bedroom. She flipped the light switch on and yawned, stretching and twisting against the soreness in her body, a mixture of the aches from the accident the night before and the stress of standing up and walking around in circles for most of the day.
She decided to make good on what she had said to Rami—a nice, long bath would do her a lot of good. She stripped her clothes off quickly, tossing them into the hamper in front of her closet on the way to the bathroom. She turned on the water and waited a moment or two for it to heat up before she pushed the plug into the drain and let the tub begin to fill. One of the few luxuries she allowed herself was a small collection of bath salts and bubbles: it was a cheap way to give herself something nice, and Mia had justified the occasional three or five dollars based on the fact that she was buying a luxury at less than a dollar per use. She picked a jar of pink salts perfumed with sandalwood and neroli and poured about half a cup of the potent, fragrant granules into the hot water.
As she waited for the bath to fill, Mia thought about the strange man who’d collided with her the evening before. Rami al-Hassan was handsome, there was no doubt about it; and obviously he was wealthy. But he seemed—at least on her first impression—like kind of a spoiled brat. He had been more concerned with the damage to his expensive car than he was with the fact that he had slammed into someone else. “Did he say it was a Tesla?” Mia shook her head in wonder; she knew in passing that that particular model of car started out at around $100,000—and with customizations was often much, much more. Her entire salary for three or more years might not be enough to buy one. And the mechanic had mentioned that Rami had gotten into more than one accident in the past. Not that that’s surprising, Mia thought, considering he had slammed into her at a stop sign and then had the audacity to yell at her for, of all things, having stopped.
Mia turned off the faucet and sank down into the water, breathing in the fragrant steam and letting the tension flow out of her muscles. For a few moments, at least, she would avoid thinking about the stresses she had to deal with: her mother’s poor health and mounting bills; her unruly, unwilling students; the enormous student loans she still had to repay. She would float in the water and think about nothing at all. Mia yawned again and told herself firmly that she was not going to let herself fall asleep in the hot, soft-feeling water.
Despite her resolution, Mia was so exhausted that within fifteen minutes, she had drifted out of her lazy doze and into actual sleep, the lip of the tub holding her head up and out of the water. She was never sure how long she slept, but when she awoke with a jolt—coming out of a dream that ended with a replay of the accident she’d had the day before—the water was cold around her, and her stomach was growling
with hunger. She climbed out and wrapped a robe around herself, checking her phone to see that her mother had called while she’d been napping. She told herself that, since the message didn’t sound like an emergency, she would have dinner before returning her mother’s call. Mia rummaged in her fridge, freezer, and cabinets until she was able to put together a reasonable meal of rice, peas and a fried egg, liberally seasoned with hot sauce. She yawned, still tired in spite of her nap, and devoured her somewhat bland dinner, psyching herself up to tackle all of the things she needed to do over the weekend. First things first: call Mom and tell her about the car. Maybe she’ll be well enough to come and get you at the shop.
THREE
Lenny was true to his word. Sitting in the waiting area, Mia barely had time to get through the stack of papers she had brought with her to grade when the shop owner came to let her know the repairs were almost finished. “It wasn’t as bad as Rami had me believe,” Lenny told her with a little shrug. “Though I did notice your brakes are pretty worn in the back.” Mia blushed, too embarrassed—and too proud—to say that she hadn’t been able to afford to get them fixed.
“Yeah… I was planning on getting those done next,” she said, fumbling with her papers and avoiding Lenny’s gaze.
“I gave Rami a call and mentioned it to him—said it probably happened in the collision. He said he’d be happy to pay for them as well, so I’ve got one of my guys out picking up a new set of brake pads for you.” Mia nearly dropped the essays in her hands and stared at the older man in outright astonishment.
“That’s—are you sure he won’t be mad? Won’t he find out? Would he—would he sue you, or try and come after me?” Lenny shook his head.
“Nah, he was only too happy to take care of it,” Lenny said, brushing aside Mia’s concern with a wave of his hands. “He won’t even question whether it’s possible for brakes to be damaged like that, or I wouldn’t have done it.” Lenny grinned. “I just didn’t like the idea of you driving on those brakes—it’s asking for another accident.”
“I really appreciate it,” Mia said. “I was starting to worry. I knew they needed fixing, but…”
“But you’re a teacher and money’s tight.” Mia wondered how Lenny knew, and before she could ask he gestured at the schoolwork she had scattered around her, all of it in various stages of being graded. “It was my pleasure, my dear. Rami’s got more money than sense—it might as well do someone other than him some good.” Lenny left her after that, pausing only to tell her that her car would be completely finished within the hour.
Mia went to her mother’s directly afterwards. She didn’t tell her mother about the accident; she didn’t want to worry Amie, and with the repairs done with no trouble to Mia, there was no need to mention it at all. The new brakes were wonderful, though it took Mia the rest of her afternoon’s errands to get used to them—if she tapped the brake the way she was used to doing, the car jerked to a stop, slamming her back against the seat with a jolt.
As grateful as she was that Rami had taken care of her car, the incident faded to the back of Mia’s mind as she spent the rest of the weekend helping her mother clean up the house, taking her to the grocery store, and making phone calls to confirm the next week’s appointments. During the week, one of the neighbors, Karen, drove her mom to most of the doctors’ offices, since it was next to impossible for Mia to get time off, but on weekends, Mia took over.
As the days passed, Mia found herself once more embroiled in responsibilities: trying to keep her students motivated, going to meetings she didn’t truly have time for, keeping in daily contact with her mother to make sure she was okay and hearing about the different treatments and updates on Amie’s condition.
Every so often, as the days since the incident became a week, and one week became two, Mia would stop short in the middle of something with the feeling like she had forgotten something. But each time she wracked her tired brain to try and remember what it could possibly be, she couldn’t think of it. By the fourth or fifth time, Mia decided that whatever it was, it couldn’t be that important—or she would have remembered it. Of course I’ll probably find out in a week or two that it’s some bill, or some prescription I need to refill for Mom, and everything will go to crap.
When no disaster reared its ugly head, Mia went on with her life. Two weeks later, she had taken care of her mother’s errands for the weekend, and had a little time to herself. Mia drove to the grocery store, doing her best to enjoy the mild afternoon sunshine; it had been a rainy morning, an absolute misery when she had first gotten up to drive to the pharmacy. There had been moments when Mia had been certain that she would hit someone: the driver who apparently didn’t believe in using his headlights in a downpour, or the woman in the Lexus who nearly swerved into Mia in an attempt to make a fast, crafty lane change.
Walking the aisles of the supermarket close to her house, Mia began to relax. “It’s a sad statement on my life when crunching numbers in my head to figure out whether I’m going to eat chicken or eggs this week is relaxing,” she murmured, as she looked at the per-ounce prices on the different packages of rice on the shelf. Maybe—just maybe—she could afford to buy a little carton of ice cream; something to treat herself after the stresses of the week. Her bank account was nearly empty, but Mia needed something, and was willing to savor every last mouthful.
“Hey, Mia,” someone said behind her, cutting through her thoughts. Mia nearly dropped a carton of milk in surprise, turning on her heel to see who was speaking. To her shock, Rami was standing just a few feet away, dressed in what she was sure were designer jeans, a pair of oxfords, and a button-down shirt that looked to be tailored—it certainly fit him like a glove, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. Mia forced a smile onto her startled face.
“Hi,” she said, putting the cardboard carton into her shopping cart before it could slip from her fingers. “I didn’t know you shopped here.” Rami shrugged.
“I was in the area,” he said, a slight smile on his full lips. “I needed to pick up a few things, so I dropped in—and I’m glad I did.” He looked her up and down slowly, though not so slowly that Mia felt uncomfortably exposed.
“Imagine that,” Mia said, her smile wavering for just a moment before she reinforced it, steeling herself against the nervousness she felt. “Oh—oh, God, I just realized I never thanked you for helping me get my car fixed,” she said, blood rushing into her face. Mia smacked her forehead with her palm, closing her eyes as her embarrassment deepened. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said, opening her eyes once more. “I knew I had forgotten something but my life’s been pretty crazy this past couple of weeks.”
Rami nodded. “Don’t think of it,” he said, stepping a little closer to her. Mia noticed that he had a basket in his hands—but there was nothing in it. “I’m glad I ran into you, though. I hope Lenny did a good job fixing everything? He mentioned there was some damage to your brakes, too.” Mia shrugged, feeling a little guilty as she remembered the subterfuge Lenny had used to get Rami to pay for the brake work.
“It’s looking great, working great,” Mia said. “I hope it wasn’t too expensive.” She frowned, but Rami dismissed the idea with a gesture.
“Not at all. Way cheaper than it was to get the ding in my bumper fixed,” he said, his lips stretching into a broad smile. “I was hoping, actually—now that I’ve run into you—that you’d let me take you out for that coffee.” Mia’s blush deepened. She couldn’t quite believe that he was asking her out again.
“I—like I said, I’ve been really busy…” she looked down at her cart, biting her lower lip.
“Aw, come on,” Rami said, his voice taking on more warmth and charm than before. “Surely you can spare me an hour? Or are you seeing someone? If so, I apologize for being so pushy.”
Mia chuckled weakly. “No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she admitted. “I haven’t really had much time to date.” She swallowed, wondering how her mouth had managed to become so dry so suddenly;
hadn’t she taken a sip from her water bottle only moments before Rami had appeared?
“Then, won’t you please give me a chance? I still feel terrible about running into your car, and I wanted to make it up.”
Mia shrugged. “I kind of feel like you did that by getting my car fixed.”
“But that doesn’t make up for me being such an ass to you when it happened,” Rami said. Mia gathered up her courage and looked at him. Rami was watching her, but there was nothing unpleasant in his gaze—he wasn’t leering, or trying to undress her with his eyes. She took a breath.
“Aright, if you insist,” she said, weakly. “I guess I can’t say no to a guy who’s been so helpful in getting my car fixed.” Rami’s smile spread over his face and he came a step closer to her.
“Thank you,” he said, reaching out and touching her hand. “I promise, I just want to talk to you over coffee, that’s all.” Mia summoned a smile and turned it onto Rami, swallowing her pride, misgivings, and guilt that Lenny had lied to get him to pay for her brake job.
The Sheikh's First Christmas - A Warm and Cozy Christmas Romance Page 14