“Hey, Liv!” I heard Shaw call through the open office door.

Wiping the grease from my hands, I trudged over to him. His grimy hand covered the receiver of the office phone while he whispered, “Hank Collins is calling again.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the cordless. “Hank? Now to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice again today?” I cooed into the smelly plastic, trying to not sound annoyed that this particular customer was becoming a royal pain in my ass.

Hank cleared his throat loudly. “Just calling to check up on my tractor again. Been two whole days here, Liv, and you know what a farmer is without his damn tractor? This friggin’ hay ain’t going to bail itself.” The condescension that oozed from his tone made me want to reach through the phone and strangle the life out of him.

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, then responded, “Now, Hank, we went over this just yesterday. The part isn’t coming in until tomorrow at the earliest. If you hadn’t ignored your regular servicing, we wouldn’t be looking at a cracked radiator, but I’m not pointing fingers. You know what a mechanic is without her parts?”

“Damn useless.” He snorted before making the most detestable spitting sound on the damn planet.

“You’re right on that one.” I sneered and spoke through gritted teeth. “Once it’s delivered, I will have that part in as fast as my fingers can go. Until then, you need to sit tight and deal with using one of the other three tractors on your farm. I am sure one of them can keep you busy while you wait.”

With a huff and a few choice words, he ended the call and I turned to Shaw. “Patience is a virtue that man will never master.”

I rubbed my temple and Shaw tossed my headache medicine over to me. I threw back my head, gulping down two pills and a bunch of water. Long days and nights with barely any sleep and countless hours spent under the hoods of vehicles were starting to catch up to me.

“I would have told him to go fuck himself. He is a patronizing prick that needs to stop calling.” Shaw spit into the paper cup on his desk as he started sifting through some of the paperwork he had been neglecting. “When are you going to bite the bullet and finally hire a damn secretary?”

I knew it had been time for far too long, but money was tight and we were getting by running the garage with just the two of us. “We’ve been over this. Can we not get into it again?”

Shaw and I had been friends ever since I could remember, and when we’d graduated from mechanic school together, it had been a no-brainer for him to come work for me when I turned my father’s workshop into an actual moneymaking automotive repair shop. He was the closest thing I had to family, and he knew how hard it would be for me to trust anyone else with my baby.

“All I am saying is that it would be damn nice to have someone else fielding the calls from our idiot customers and doing the ordering so we could do less of that bullshit and more of the actual work that pays the bills.”

Taking a seat, I threw my boots up onto my desk. “I’ll go over it with the accountant at the end of the month, happy?” The Copenhagen smile that spread across his face infuriated me. “But, I won’t hire anyone while you’re still chewing that nasty shit.”

He spit again. “Oh come on, Olive. It ain’t hurting nobody.”

“Your gums, teeth, and gut might have something different to say about that.”

Otis grunted from his large bed behind my chair. “See, even the dog agrees.” Patting my leg, I called my giant pup over to me. With a heave and a yawn, Otis moseyed over to me. For a guard dog, he was one lazy son-of-a-bitch when he wanted to be. He rested his oversized head on my thigh, and I scratched behind his cropped ear, making my big oaf of a dog melt like butter in my hand.

“Hello?” I heard someone call, and Otis started to growl.

“Hush, boy,” I whispered as Shaw went to greet the customer.

I pulled Otis’ Kong out of my desk drawer and tossed it to him before following Shaw into the bay.

“How can we help you, sir?” Shaw asked the older man who was glancing around the shop.

“I was told that Mic’s garage was the best shop in town, so here I am.”

I walked up to shake his hand. “You heard right. What can we do for you?”

“Where’s Mic?” the man asked, glancing from Shaw to me uneasily.

“Mic was my father.” I pointed to a picture of my dad and me working on a ’67 Shelby that was hanging not too far from us. “I’m Olive, and I run the place now. What seems to be the problem?”

With reluctance coating his features, the older man rubbed the back of his neck. “All right, then. I was passing through town on my way into the city when my car started sputtering on the highway. I was able to get to the gas station right off the exit before she completely shut down on me, and the tow truck driver suggested I bring it here.”

I glanced past the guy to see Larry unhitching the beat-up white sedan from his truck. “Thanks, Lar!” I called out. Larry Baxter was a friend from high school and had had the hots for me for far too long. I appreciated the referrals, but I didn’t know how I could convince him I didn’t want anything to do with his pit stains, potbelly, or awful breath.

“Don’t mention it, Liv! See ya later!”

“Shaw, why don’t you go check out this gentleman’s car while I call him a cab to take him up to Pete’s diner?”

“Aye, boss.” Shaw trotted over to the car with a clipboard at the ready.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name sir.” I started to usher him into the office.

“Henry Peeler.”

“It’s a pleasure Henry. Everyone calls me Liv.” I smiled as sweetly as I could.

We shook hands again. “Nice to meet you, young lady.”

“Henry, tell me, do you like milkshakes?”

He nodded.

“Well, Pete’s has the best damn strawberry milkshake in the whole area. My treat. I’ll have a car come get you and Pete will just put your order on my tab. How does that sound? You can relax, read the paper, or catch up on some phone calls while you enjoy a nice cold shake.”

“That does sound nice.” He finally started to smile.

After shipping Henry off to the diner up the road, I got the rundown from Shaw.

“I think it’s a fuse,” he said, holding the diagnostic computer up for me to see the readings.

“I think we might actually have it in storage. Thank God!”

Shaw laughed. “Not trying to keep more skeptical customers around to harass us?”

I shook my head violently. “Did you see how he looked at us?”

“Like we were too young to be running this joint by ourselves?”

“Bingo.” Otis trotted over to me with his leash in his mouth. “Guess it’s walk time.”

Shaw started to walk back over to our storage area. “I’ll get this all fixed up. Is his cell number written down on your desk?”

“You’re the best, and of course it is. Once we’re done, let’s get the heck out of here. It’s been a long-ass day and I need a beer.”

“Now you’re talking!”