“Dad.” The drilling noise and beating of metal continues. I scream a little louder this time. “DAD.”

My father finally rounds the corner, wiping his brow with the handkerchief in his back pocket. He doesn’t acknowledge me, but I know damn well he’s heard me.

“Where’s the parts order from this week?”

“Oh, I went to the local part store and I think the receipt is in the jockey box of my GMC.”

“You think?” I ask, pissed off.

“I’m a mechanic and play in the grease.”

“Well, keep your damn receipts you old fart. I’m a teacher, not a detective.”

I typically look forward to my Saturdays at Dad’s shop. I do his books for him, but this morning after a completely sleepless night, I feel like I’m losing my shit. Pedro’s light snores from his dog bed underneath the desk don’t help matters and only make me sleepier.

Dad’s known as the best mechanic in town and is; however, his organizational skills lack. His office is always a mess with piles and piles of papers; some of it trash and others important documents.

I begin digging through the piles of papers, scouring for important receipts to update his monthly expense books, when my phone dings, alerting me to a text message. I’m sure sleeping beauty just woke up sated from amazing sex and is now ready for more details from my dinner with Oren.

An evil giggle escapes me as I punch in numbers into the computer program, aligning the expense with the check number written and imagine Scout throwing a hissy fit. When she’s real determined, she’ll start blowing my phone up and then she’ll march her nosey ass right down here to the shop. I spilled all the details last night, but know she dozed off in the middle.

After a good hour of sorting and filing go by, I finally get to my new cellphone I picked up this morning on the way to dad’s shop. One new text message lights up the home screen.

Unknown: Have any blind dates tonight that you need rescued from?

Me: ???

Unknown: I’m on night shift again and am willing to save you.

Me: Oren?

Unknown: Yep

Me: How?

Unknown: Your quite annoying friend

Me: But how?

Unknown: You texted her last night from my phone and then I did a little investigation of my own.

Me: Prove that it’s you.

My heart races out of control, fingers tremble in excitement, and then I finally pinch myself to make sure this isn’t another damn horny dream of mine.

“Ouch,” I squeal after nearly ripping flesh from my arm and then my phone dings.

When I make eye contact with my phone laying on top of the desk, I moan. Yes, moan out loud in delight and mostly shock. Oren sent a picture alright and it just may be the sexiest picture I’ve ever seen.

It’s him in what looks like a bathroom in boxers, bare chest, wet hair, and a dab of shaving cream on his chin. I pick up the phone, zooming in and out on all of his features. I don’t miss the precious smirk dancing on his face in the picture. I take a moment to save his number and fight to muster up a coherent sentence to reply with.

Me: Well, hello Officer!

Oren: Your turn

Me: For?

Oren: A pic. I mean Scout could’ve given me the wrong number.

Me: No. Hell No.

Oren: Lol. Sorry, getting ready for work hence the bathroom pic

Me: Oh, don’t be sorry

Oren: It would be nice to have a pic of you for my contacts.

Me: Persistent

Oren: Throw a dog a bone.

Scout is the selfie-whore. I only get in one when she’s aiming the camera at the both of us. So, I fluff my messy bun, adjust my black nerd glasses on my face, slap my cheeks trying to put some color into them and try to take a few. FAIL.

I’m slapping the underside of my chin while testing all angles and even trying out duck lips when my dad walks in.

“Have you gone mad?”

Oh, that causes me to blush perfectly, throw my chin down, and snap a pic. And amazingly enough it turns out the best.

“It’s for school, Pops.”

“Interesting.” He smiles back at me without saying a word before grabbing his phone and walking back out of his office.

Me: Here you go. I don’t do selfies or send pictures, so consider yourself lucky!

In a not so patient manner, I tap the desk with my nails, staring at the phone screen, waiting on his reply. And then I see it or should I say, them. My boobies in all their glory overflowing from the top of my tank top give a whole new meaning to cleavage. Holy shit, is that the top of my areola? I was so damn worried about the angle of my face I didn’t even notice the girls and their high beam headlights fully on display.

My phone dings once again in the small office and my butthole puckers out of fear.

“No, no, no.”

“No, what?” I look up to Scout holding greasy take-out bags. “O, you’re white as a ghost.”

“I just sent a picture of my tits to Oren on accident.”

“That’s no assident.” She giggles. Scout never misses a chance to pronounce accident the wrong way.

I shove my phone up into her face and cover my eyes. “Here, look.”

She’s only silent for a few seconds before she bursts out in hysterics. “O, you gave him a serious gun show, but looks like he liked it.”

“Why?”

“He sent back heart emoticon smiling faces and then said gorgeous followed by the tongue with drool coming off of it.”

“Oh shit.” I slap my hands over my mouth.

“He likes you, O.” Scout begins taking out the food and making everyone’s plates. It’s her official Saturday job. She knows Dad’s favorites and spoils him.

I delicately pick back up my cellphone like there’s a ticking time bomb in it and look at his reply. It feels good talking to him and I’m not ready to stop.

Me: Thanks

Oren: Text me tonight if you get trapped on another date from hell. I’m seriously worried about the health of the bushes in the community.

Me: Very Funny!!! But I’m done dating

Oren: Forever?

Me: I think it’s best for society

Oren: Damn, I don’t get a day off until next Friday and thought…

Me: By all means finish your thought

Oren: I’d like to have dinner with you since you’ve quit dating

Me: Deal

Shit, that was a bit aggressive and needy.

Oren: Have to head into work, but if you ever need anything please call this number.

Me: Thanks

“What’s that shit-eating grin for?” Dad takes a seat in his favorite worn out black office chair, kicking back his heels, and digging into his food.

“Nothing,” I grit out between my teeth and send Scout a death glare that could kill.

“You never told me how your blind date went, firecracker,” Dad throws out between bites of his spicy chicken sandwich.

I’m not sure how to play this one out. If I tell my dad the real story of the pasta and how big of a doucher Connor was, he’d be out of the shop with his shotgun on the hunt. And if I tell him about my hopes with Oren he’ll become overly excited.

I shrug. “It was fine.”

Dad sputters on his chicken sandwich, flinging his legs down to the floor, and slamming on his chest. “I’m impressed.”

“Well, it’s complicated, Pops, so don’t be going and getting your panties wadded up.”

“I’m happy for you, Olivia, I really am.”

I skip my chicken strips and tots and fill up my appetite with the picture of Oren on my screen. I save it, add it to his contact info, and then in a very tacky and desperate move, set it as my home screen. I move the apps around on the screen, so his broad chest and handsome face fill the screen and then let out a sigh.

“What’s so interesting on your phone, firecracker?” My dad places his hand on my shoulder, trying to peek over at my screen.

“Nothing.” I hit the sleep button. “Just looking up math lessons for Monday.”

Pedro joins the conversation, jumping up and down barking for food. Scout gets my attention and she’s suggestively pushing her tongue on the inside of her cheek and using a hand to make a crude motion.

“I’m off to work, girls behave.”

She promptly quits her vulgar action as soon as he turns around.

“Now spill,” Scout says as soon as Dad shuts the door.

“I did last night, bitch, you fell asleep.”

“I didn’t fall asleep. You make it sound so bad. I was sucked into a sex induced coma.”

It doesn’t take much convincing to retell the whole tale to her. Halfway through the story I realize for the first time ever, I’m actually happy and hopeful.