Chapter 3
Mia
Three thousand dollars. It may as well be three million. They’re both equally out of reach for me. I glare at Garrett- the asshole mechanic- Castle. He is deliberately being a dickhead to push my buttons, and it’s working. I take a breath and remember my mission. Time to take it to the next level.
I give him my very best smile, “Mr. Castle, I don’t have three thousand dollars. I don’t have two thousand dollars. I have seven hundred dollars- a thousand tops. What will that fix?” I hate to admit how little I have, but I’m hoping that he has a heart in there somewhere. Maybe if he knows how much I have, he will do a little something. Besides, there’s no reason to stand here any longer if he isn’t willing to negotiate.
“Look, Ms. Andrews, I’d love to help you. I’ve got a business to run and a grand won’t even cover the most critical parts.” He gives me a ‘sorry for your luck’ look and spreads his hands to illustrate just how little he has to work with.
I chew my lip and decide to try just one more thing. I step closer and put my hand over his where it is resting on the frame of the car. My heart is hammering. I don’t do this kind of thing and can only imagine how humiliating it is going to be if he laughs at me. I lick my lips and look up at him from under my lashes. My other hand comes up to rest lightly on his chest. “Garrett, I need this car to work. How can we make that happen?” I lift my eyes and meet his.
Holy wow, his eyes are an amazingly bright, intense blue that I’d be willing to bet have intimidated the pants off lots of people. I hold his gaze, and the corner of his mouth lifts just a little. “Ms. Andrews,” he says with a voice that makes my stomach drop to my knees. He lowers his face to mine and whispers, “The estimate for your car is $3000.00. Come back when you have it.” And then he’s gone, striding back to the little office and leaving me gaping like a fish on the dock.
Hot tears spring to my eyes. Fuck you, I think and consider yelling it as he is retreating back. He’s almost inside, and the opportunity for a snappy comeback is gone. I drop the hood and slide into the driver’s seat, slamming the door with far more force than necessary. I cringe and hope the door doesn’t fall off on top of everything else.
There are other garages in town, I tell myself. I think there is one out on Dodge Street that I should be able to get to without having to deal with heavy traffic areas. I jam the key in and turn it over. Nothing happens.
“Come on, girl. You’ve got one more in you,” I say in a cross between a prayer and a pep talk. Once more, I turn the key and get nothing. “Fuck. Shit. God dammit!” I hit the steering wheel with each expletive. “Please. Oh please.” I try the key again as the tears spill over. It just isn’t fair. I am so close to graduation. All I need is a bit of a break.
I rest my head on the steering wheel and cry as my pity party started in earnest. I am so tired of struggling and juggling and not getting anywhere. My shoulders shake and tears spatter down on my jeans leaving little dark circles.
What am I going to do, I finally ask myself. I’m not one to stay down for long. I haven’t gotten this far on my own by letting temporary defeats knock me out of the game. Where can I get three grand? I have a few things I can sell, but they will only get a couple of hundred bucks. I flop back in the seat and drag my hands down my face, wiping my tears away.
The knock on the window just about makes me jump out of my skin. Garrett is standing there, dangling a set of keys in his hand. I stare for a moment before opening the door.
“I have an offer for you, Ms. Andrews.”
I drag in two deep breaths and glance in the rearview mirror to see how blotchy my face is. I freeze and suppress a groan. I apparently hadn’t used waterproof mascara earlier. Dark tracks are running down my face and are smudged across my cheeks. I dive into my purse, frantically searching for a makeup wipe or tissue. I come up with a slightly used McDonald’s napkin and dab at my streaked face. I looked like a raccoon with eye black on ready to take center field for the Yankees.
“Ms. Andrews, this offer expires in exactly 10 seconds.”
Son of a… I give up and mentally give the universe the finger as I push myself out the door. I stand and keep my chin up. I meet his eyes, silently daring him to say anything.
The corner of his mouth twitches as he takes in my face paint. “Have dinner with me tonight, at my house, and I’ll fix your car for $700.” He holds the keys out and locks his bright blue eyes with mine.
Wow. He has ‘the look’ down pat, I think and try to decide what to do. It is a short deliberation. I don’t have a choice. This car has to run.
“Deal.”
He drops the keys in my palm and walks away without another word, once again leaving me standing wrong-footed. I press the unlock button and a black Audi three cars down beeps and flashes its lights. I grab my purse and backpack and slide into the nicest car I’ve ever driven.
The leather seat molds to my butt and the engine cranks to life with the press of a button. There’s a note on the dash-
3215 Hickory Mill Dr. 7 PM sharp
I stuff it in my purse. I put the Audi in gear, and as I pull out, I wonder exactly what is on tonight’s menu.