Chapter Four – Jamie

 

“That,” Haley said, hand clasped around a bottle of water, “Is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

I threw my hands in the air. “What did you expect me to do? Kow-tow to his fucked up sexism?”

“Politely thank him for his time and leave!”

I shook my head. “No. Honestly, Hales, I’ve never met such a fucking asshole in my life. He wasn’t worried about me being strong enough to do the job. He’s worried I’d show him up.”

“Has anyone ever told you that your confidence could be mistaken for arrogance?”

“Yes. You. All the time.” I huffed and hit the button on the treadmill to take the incline up a level. I wasn’t a runner, so I walked practically a ninety-degree angle to make up for it. “Seriously, it was all over him. Let’s face it—I’m more than qualified, and he’s so ass-backwards in his belief of where I belong as a poor little woman that it was unbearable.”

“So, your fix to that is to work with him? With your temper?” She raised her eyebrow and moved to a slow jog. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”

“I never claimed it was a good idea,” I retorted. “I think it’s a terrible idea, but I have this insatiable need to prove him wrong.”

“Since when did you ever care about proving someone—much less a man—wrong?”

She had a point. “Well, yesterday morning.”

Haley rolled her eyes and took a sip of her water. “You don’t want this job, James. You’ve walked away from these interviews a hundred times before. This is ridiculous.”

I wished she’d stop talking sense. She was making me start to regret my choice.

“I know it’s ridiculous. You don’t have to keep telling me.” I huffed and swigged my water. “I just… There’s something about him that tells me he needs his smugness smacking off his face.”

“So, punch him instead of work for him.”

“No. It’ll be far more satisfying when I show him I’m not a delicate fucking flower.”

“Ah, yes. Let me send that to whoever is heading up the feminist movement these days. Sounds like you just gave them a new slogan.”

I shot her a withering look. “You’re such an asshole. Honestly, you should take your car into the garage and talk to him. I bet you’d see exactly what I mean.”

She slowed the treadmill to a walk. “Why would I take my car in there? You’re going on like he’s your sworn enemy, and now you’re telling me to take my custom to him!”

“You twist my words, Haley Allen.”

Her grin stretched across her entire face. “I know. I’m trying to catch you out. You’re really going to work with a guy you hate?”

“I don’t hate Dex. I don’t know enough about him to hate him, but from the first impression, he’s probably going to be a permanent addition to my shit list.”

“Oooh, your shit list. What are you going to do?”

“Bitch and whine every night to some unlucky soul who gets to call herself my best friend.”

“Oh boy,” she said dryly. “I didn’t pull the short straw at all.”

I turned to look at her. “You know, I forget. Who made me apply for this job in the first place?”

She said nothing. She simply flipped me the bird, looking straight ahead, and put her earbuds in her ears.

I laughed to myself.

She was such a tool.

 

***

 

Monday morning rolled around all too quickly. After having the weekend to sleep on things and several messages from Haley about how stupid I was, all my six a.m. alarm did was wake me to the reality that I was about to work for a total asshole.

What was I doing?

I valued myself more than this.

I was worth more than proving myself to an egotistical little man because he didn’t think I was worth it.

But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t tear myself away from the need to do this.

Was it because, on the surface, I was attracted to him? Or because he just made me want to wipe that stupid, sexy, smug smirk off his goddamn face?

Jesus, I didn’t even know. Holy shit. I was in trouble.

I wasn’t doing this because I wanted to. I was doing it because I felt like I had to. I had to be the one to smash his stupid little ideals into pieces.

What was wrong with me?

I decided not to answer that and headed for the shower instead. I hadn’t exactly slept well last night, but the hot water beat down on me and washed away a lot of the aches that plagued my shoulders.

Ten minutes later, I emerged from my bathroom wrapped in towels and headed back into my room. I’d laid out a simple tank top and shorts set the night before. I didn’t particularly care about either item, and actually, I was sure the shorts had an oil stain on the butt pocket.

I changed, carefully balancing the towel on my hair. My unruly, frizzy curls were currently jailed in it, and I wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

Another ten minutes passed while I dressed and applied minimal make-up. Judging by our initial meeting, I expected to be thrown onto reception and customer service within hours of me starting today. If that was the case, I needed to look somewhat presentable, no matter what Dex said about make-up and shit.

I even put on the goddamn red lipstick.

Just to prove I could fix cars while wearing it.

God, now I was point-scoring.

I shook my head at myself and released my mop of hair from the towel. It was a hot mess as it tumbled in wet curls over my shoulders, and I had to grit my teeth to get through the knotty mess it was.

Thank god for the wide-toothed comb. It made its way through the fluff until I was able to whisk it all into a messy bun on top of my head.

Then, I looked in the mirror, and let out a long, heavy breath.

I was ready for this. I was ready to drive to Ryne Garages and begin the task of proving Dex wrong.

Was I?

I’d been so determined—until Haley had told me how stupid the idea was. How my self-worth had never been defined by anyone else until I saw him.

She was right.

It was stupid.

My self-worth was defined by nobody other than me—and that wouldn’t change. Whether or not Dexter Ryne believed I was good enough to be a mechanic in his garage was nothing more than his opinion, and since opinions were usually closer to assholes than anything else, I didn’t care what he thought.

I just cared that, for a second, I made him think something else.

And I didn’t know why I cared. I had no reason to care. His prejudice would not change just because I, one person, proved him wrong.

Still. I’d never claimed to be this generation’s Einstein.

I grabbed all my things together and headed out of the door and to my car. She rumbled to life when I turned the key in the ignition, and I took a deep breath and pulled away from my house.

Stones crunched beneath the tires as I followed the long, makeshift drive that connected the path to my house to the main one to my parents’. As soon as I turned onto the main drive, it was mere seconds until I was out onto the main road and driving in the direction of the garage.

I’d driven it so many times I didn’t pay any attention. I knew the stores I’d pass. I knew what the trees on Main Street looked like as they turned to fall colors and wilted all over the sidewalk. I knew what it looked like to pass the bigger houses on the opposite side of town.

What it looked like to roll just slightly off the beaten track to where the garage sat.

I pulled into the same spot I did for my interview and parked. Everything inside shut off with one turn of the key, and I stayed still for a moment.

I had to get myself together.

Now.

I grabbed my stuff from the passenger side and got out before I turned into a huge chicken. Locking my car, I stuffed the keys into my purse and walked toward the garage.

There were no lights. I tried the front door, but it was locked, and I pursed my lips.

“Jamie?”

I jumped, clutching my purse close to me.

A low chuckle sounded. “Round the back.”

Slowly, I edged back toward my car and where the back door to the garage was. Why didn’t I think of that? That was always how we’d entered. I guessed my uncertainty had gotten the better of me.

I’d forgotten that entrance ever existed.

The silhouette of Dex filled the doorway until my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the fall morning and I could make him out.

Boy, I was not looking forward to daylight savings next week.

“Dex?”

“Did I scare you?”

“Like a lamb scares a lion,” I replied, walking toward him.

He didn’t step out of the door—he only flattened himself against the frame, meaning I had to turn sideways to slide past him. Barely a breath of air would have been able to go between us, but at least we didn’t touch.

“You’re early,” he noted.

“Would you prefer if I were late?” I shot over my shoulder, walking into the staff area and dumping my purse on the sofa.

“I’d prefer you be on time.”

Now, he was taking the piss.

“I’ll take that into consideration. If I’m ever late, know that it was because I was doing my best to get here exactly on time.”

“We’re beginning this trial on good terms, I see.”

I turned, ready to shoot him down, but all I saw was a wolfish grin that glinted in his eyes. “It’s first thing on a Monday. You’ll learn that I don’t do sarcasm this early.”

“Ironic, considering the snark you just sent my way.”

“I’m sorry—I meant to say I don’t take sarcasm from other people on a Monday unless they have a murder wish.”

Dex burst into laughter and locked the door I’d just walked through. “Just on a Monday? I admit to having limited experience in your presence, but I’d consider you a potential murderer any day of the week.”

I levelled my gaze on him. “And you’re in a building full of potential murder weapons.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“They’re weak.”

“I’m strong and scrappy—I could fight you off, darlin’.”

“I’m a mean hand at Chinese throwing stars,” I warned him. Still wasn’t sure how I’d acquired that skill…

He grinned. “Good thing I don’t have any of those stashed in here.”

“Wrenches spin the same way.”

He faltered. “Point well made. From now on, though, watch your mouth. I’m your boss.”

“Did I scare you?”

“Into thinking I hired a psychopath? Absolutely. Of a woman who wears lipstick to fix cars? Not really.” He tossed a clipboard my way. It landed with a clatter at my feet. “I’m starting you off easy.”

I bent to retrieve it. “So kind of you.”

“Mrs. Hawkins’ Ford needs an oil change, spark plugs replaced, and her two front tires changed.” He hesitated. “That’s the dark blue, three-door disaster in the back corner.”

“No, stop that,” I snapped back. “I thought it was that shiny as hell, black Dodge Ram to my left.”

Dex blinked his blue eyes at me for a moment. “Do you have a switch for that attitude? Does coffee turn it off?”

“No, but it gives me the ability to pretend to like people.”

He moved back toward the staffroom. “Cream and sugar?”

“Yes, and one, please.” I flashed him an almost-sincere smile.

“Damn, that was almost a real one.” His laughter followed him into the room—and I did, too.

I opened up my purse and pulled out the overalls I’d scrunched into a tiny ball. Creases made no difference when they’d be hidden by oil in mere minutes of being under a hood.

I kicked off my combat boots, sat down, and shoved my legs in the leg-holes.

Dex glanced over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on my shoes in front of me.

When he didn’t say anything, I did. “Yes?”

He peered back at me for a moment before returning his attention to the coffee machine. “I half-expected you to show up in those heels you wore to the interview.”

I bit my tongue, holding back a retort for half a second. “If you’d like me to, it’s not a problem. I’ve changed a tire in higher heels before.”

“Now, that’s something I’d like to see.”

“It’s something I’d like to forget,” I admitted, standing and zipping the overalls to beneath my boobs. Starting to roll the sleeves, I continued, “My mom was driving me to dinner with a few friends and we saw old Mr. Hooter on the side of the road with a flat. His cell wasn’t working. Neither were ours because we were out of range. I wasn’t exactly dressed for tire-changing, and we’ll just say he enjoyed the view.”

He snorted. “Now I definitely want a recreation.”

I levelled a flat stare at the back of his head. Not only was he sexist, but he was apparently a perv.

Or attracted to me.

I preferred the former option.

A perv, I could deal with. A guy as hot as him? Not so much.

Although, his mouth shut that shit down pretty quick… Probably just like mine did.

Thank God.

I’d have to go to pray for small mercies, aka sarcasm, this weekend.

Ugh… My mom was going to love dragging me to church.