Chapter 28
Logan
On Wednesday, I’m back on the road to Nashville to pick up the seats. I have to get them back to my shop and in the car after the paint’s done before I turn around and drive my truck and trailer back down this same road to deliver the Olds 442 to Boone Thrasher.
The miles don’t matter, though, only the final product does. With my eyes fixed on the road, I let my mind wander a little in the quiet of the truck about how much this one job could change things for me.
Getting my shop on the map is all it takes. High-end restorations carry a hefty enough price tag that I might be able to expand and hire a few more guys.
There’s a kid at the trade school one town over who called yesterday morning to see if I’d consider taking him on part time, and it sucked to say that I couldn’t just yet, but to give me a few months and check back.
For me, owning a business isn’t just about making money and being respectable, it’s about how I can use my business to help the people in the community too. I need to hire someone to deal with clients and paperwork, but I’ve been holding off until I know I won’t have to let someone go as quick as I hire them. I also need a few more techs to deal with a heavier volume of cars and to shorten our turnaround time. Hell, I’d even love to have my own paint shop someday so I could keep that piece of the work in-house and have more control over it.
My dreams are big, but right now, I gotta focus on what’s possible.
Then there’s Banner.
The woman inherits $30 million and barely even mentions it beyond calls with a lawyer and a financial adviser here and there. Maybe that’s the difference between people who’ve always had money and people who haven’t. Sure, her parents cut her off when she was in college, but maybe it’s something that’s ingrained in you. I’ve never had it, so I can’t say.
I should be relieved that Banner’s attitude hasn’t changed since she got that money. I mean, shit, if anyone in Gold Haven won the lottery tomorrow, which is essentially what she did, they’d be driving a brand-new car and flashing it all over town. Banner’s still driving the rental car Holly and Creighton leased for her.
Speaking of which, my woman needs better wheels than a Toyota Camry, but it’s not something she’s ever complained about.
Banner is a surprise on every level. The way she’s adapted to living here is nothing short of a miracle. There’s no Starbucks on every corner, and no sushi unless you eat the fish raw you caught yourself, which I wouldn’t recommend. Other than a comment here and there about something she misses in New York, Banner seems to be settling in well.
It pisses me off that some of the women in this town have given her hell, but after the bowling alley incident with Tricia and the box of dicks with Emmy, I’m hoping it’s over. Banner’s made friends with Julianne and Nicole, but she could use a few more, especially if I’m going to ask her to make Gold Haven her permanent home, preferably by moving in to my place.
I know what it’s like to be an outsider here, and there were plenty of times I questioned my decision to come back rather than make a new start somewhere else. Banner doesn’t have the roots that I do. She just has me.
Am I enough to keep her here?
For the rest of my drive, I rack my brain about how I can make Gold Haven out to be the best choice for her. Banner could go anywhere, but I want her tied here.
I put my thoughts on hold when I drive into the lot of Pro Interiors and park my truck near the door.
When I dropped the seats off on Monday, I headed home as quickly as possible. Today, I need to go over all the work to make sure it’s exactly what I want for Boone’s car. The guys here know who the end customer is, so I’m hoping they did a top-notch job.
The owner wasn’t here last time, so when I approach the counter and see a different man with dark hair pulled into a short knot behind his head, I wonder if I’m finally going to meet him.
“Can I help you?” the man asks when I walk in.
“Logan Brantley. Here to pick up the interior pieces for the Olds 442 I’m redoing for Boone Thrasher.”
His eyes light with recognition. He’s definitely heard of me.
“You’re the one who got his ass saved with a bunch of favors being pulled in. I’m Del. This is my place.”
I’m not a fan of how he describes me, even though it’s the truth. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Sweet design, brother. You’re lucky we were able to pull it off. I had people pulling all-nighters on it since you brought it in.”
“I appreciate that. This is a big project for me, and my normal person couldn’t handle it.”
The man laughs. “Oh, I heard the whole story. Bowling fight and some injured female pride.”
I jerk my head back in shock. Banner. “I guess you don’t need me to explain then.”
“I don’t pull out all the stops in this place for no reason. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full with that woman. She must be a good one, because she made sure your ass was covered.”
“She’s the best there is.”
Del nods. “I bet. You wanna see what we did? We just finished up an hour ago, and it’s all waiting for you in the back.”
“Hell yeah.”
He waves me back, and I slide around the counter to follow him into the shop where a dozen people sit behind sewing machines designed specifically for upholstery. He leads me to a corner, where all the seats sit on canvas tarps.
“What do you think?”
The red-and-black seats with contrast stitching and brass-knuckle accents turned out better than I could have ever imagined.
“Holy shit. That’s incredible.”
“That’s why we get the big bucks. Helps that your design didn’t suck.”
His “big bucks” comment seems off to me considering the price they quoted me could have been much higher and I would have paid it.
“I’ll get a few guys to bag them up in plastic, and we’ll load them in your truck for you.”
“Appreciate it.”
“You and I can settle up the bill, and you’ll be on your way.” Del walks back toward the counter, and I follow him. “You gotta let me know when you’re going to be in town with the finished car. I want to make sure to get pictures for my marketing materials.”
“Yeah, sure. This Saturday, you can see the Olds in all her glory.”
“Glad your girl called, because there’s no way anyone else could’ve pulled off this project but us on this short of notice. We’re the top-of-the-line auto-interior experts for restoration in the South.”
“Shit, it sounds like I might have to bring more of my business your way,” I tell him as we reach the counter and I pull out my wallet. “What’s the total damage?”
Del types something in on the computer. “Let me pull up this invoice and make sure. I can’t remember off the top of my head. All I know is that your woman covered a chunk, so there’s not much left for you.”
Just like that, all the good feelings I had about this place crumble.
“What did you say?”
He looks up at me from the computer and then back down at the screen. “Never mind, man, that’s not important.”
“What the hell are you talking about? That my woman covered a chunk? She told me what the price was, and that was that.” Suspicion and anger come to life.
Del hits a key, and the printer spits out an invoice. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
I reach across the counter to snatch the paper off the printer tray.
The only amount on it is what I figured would be due. There’s nothing about a deposit or any other payments being made. I don’t know what Banner did, but it’s going to be undone. We’re going to have a come-to-Jesus talk about this.
I pull out my wallet and toss my company credit card on the counter. “You can charge me for all of it. And you’re gonna tell me how much she paid, because she needs to get refunded.”
“Dude, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. I swore I wouldn’t.”
I wait in silence because the alternative will burn this bridge faster than a Hellfire missile strike.
Del finally speaks again. “Do you really think any shop would take on a project and have employees pull all-nighters and not charge you some kind of premium? Come on, man.”
“How much?” I ask through my teeth.
“The rush fee was triple the normal cost. Your woman paid it so you only had to cover our regular price.”
“So you’re telling me I’m paying you a total of four times what you’d normally charge for this job? The regular price plus a triple rush fee?”
He nods.
“Fucking hell.”
“We’re booked out four months in advance right now, so we don’t do shit like that unless it’s worth our while.”
“Refund her card and then charge me all of it.” Fuck, this is going to set me back on the profit I figured I’d pull in from the job, but it has to be done.
Del hits a few more keys on the keyboard. “Unless you’ve got her card handy, I can’t do that.”
Fuck. “If she calls with the number, you’ll refund it, though?”
He looks up. “Only if you’re right there with another card to charge it to. I don’t do this shit for free.”
“Not a problem.”
“Maybe this isn’t my place, but you ever think about accepting her goodwill gesture and just move on? She pulled in favors to cover your ass, and you don’t sound all that grateful about it.”
The last thing I need is a lecture from a stranger. “I’m grateful; don’t get me wrong. But I’m also the kind of man who pays for his own shit, regardless of how I got in that position.”
Del shrugs and grabs my credit card off the counter to run it for the remaining amount. “Fair enough.”
After I sign the receipt, we head outside where two of his guys are ready to load the seats into the back of my truck.
“Appreciate your help.” I shake both guys’ hands once they’re finished and turn to Del. “Appreciate yours too.”
“Don’t be too hard on her. It was my fuckup that you ever found out to begin with.”
We shake hands, and when I release his, I respond. “Yeah, but she’s the one who asked you not to tell me, and that ain’t cool. I’ll deal with that myself, though. Thanks again.”
I climb into my truck and turn the key. As I’m pulling out of the parking lot, my first instinct is to pick up my phone and call Banner to ask her what the hell she was thinking, but this can wait until I see her.
It’s a long ride home to Gold Haven.