CHAPTER SEVEN
MASON
Well, this’ll be interesting. I’m a little stunned and wondering what in the hell I just got myself into as I watch Jeanie slip her sunglasses back on and glide out in a pair of skinny jeans that are helping my imagination out in ways I’m fast trying to block.
Looking around the retail space, though, she is right. I need help. Besides, I was already planning to hire help once I got on my feet.
Now I’m on the good side of a few of the biddies in the Women’s Guild, I’m suddenly getting flooded with calls. For a bigger shop, it might be fair to middling, but for a one man operation, it’s a good start to a healthy customer flow.
I’m also noticing that having the large viewing windows right beside my work station in the garage seems to help business. I try not to think about it too much, but I can’t help but notice how some of those older ladies who accompany each other for oil changes and tire rotations like to line up and happily peer at me through the glass pane. Acting as a bit of eye candy isn’t the worst thing I’ve done for work, I suppose.
Now Jeanie will be there in the retail space, I wonder if that will deter them.
Or maybe she’ll join them.
Something about that last thought induces an unexpected reaction in my pants. I shift uncomfortably, my cock already hard.
Don’t go thinking about her like that. There’s nothing but trouble there. So maybe she’s hot—a right hot pain in the ass most likely.
I make a quick call to the only tow truck around. If she’s going to work the cost off, I need to figure out how much it’ll be and I can’t calculate that until I see the car. Really, the sooner I can get her out of my hair —and head — the better.
Rather than call her to okay the tow, I text Jeanie. The way she was getting worked up and our past interactions in mind, I figure it’s probably better to be as straightforward as possible.
“Sending a tow @ 9am tomorrow, that work?” I message her.
“Yes,” comes the reply.
Getting her response, I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that haunts me all night.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into here, Mason?
*
I’m under the hood of a minivan changing out a battery, yawning from a sleepless night, when the tow pulls up.
I jog out and wave Dan over, directing him towards the second bay of the garage. He lowers the spectacle lift and jumps out, the two of us pushing the GTO into the bay and up onto the blocks.
“You need anything else?” he asks, wiping sweat off his brow.
I shake my head, “Not for now, thanks.”
“No problem, man, glad to have a shop in town again… We’ve been needing one since Trent got crushed under that car he was workin’ on. Bad business that was.”
Charming.
We shake hands. As he walks back to the truck, I see the passenger side door open. Jeanie jumps down and starts towards me. She’s backlit by the morning sunlight. I realize the black button-up blouse she’s wearing is sheer.
Trouble, trouble, trouble…
“Good morning,” she says.
“Hi,” I manage to get out.
“Right, well, you’ve got me ’till 3pm Mondays to Fridays, so I’m going to just dive into things in the shop. I like your music, by the way.”
Before I can answer she’s striding past me and into the shop, leaving me alone in the garage once more, The Rolling Stones’ Start Me Up playing overhead
I guess it’s a start. She doesn’t seem much warmer than before, but at least she’s in the storefront and I’m in the garage. Maybe we can just get through this by keeping to our spaces.
I finish up the battery change and hear her moving around in the storefront, but I’m trying to block that out. Instead, I go over to the GTO and pull off the cover.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding under this thing, old girl.” I say, talking to the car since no one else listening.
Moving around the body, I let my hand softly glide along her sharp lines. The vinyl seats are cracked, one of the side mirrors is damaged, and the paint could stand a fresh coat, maybe with a metal flake or a pearl finish. Still, she’s a beauty. I can tell she’s got stories to tell. This is what I envisioned when I bought the shop.
Sudden movement catches my eye. I glance over at the window into the shop only to see Jeanie passing by, moving boxes around.
She’s got an edge to her, but the fact that she’s doing all this, going through this much trouble when she clearly doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, speaks to how much she cares for her uncle. It’s actually pretty sweet she’s doing all this.
Maybe I’ve misjudged her. It was pretty obvious her uncle’s health is suffering, and people can act pretty crazy when it comes to illness. Maybe I should cut her some slack, even though I’m not the one with the attitude problem.
The song changes and shifts my focus back to the car. I take my time looking under her hood, examining components and getting an idea of all the parts I’ll need to order. Jotting notes down as I go, getting to the end of my initial assessment, I look over at the clock and realize it’s already lunch time.
I look over to the window and see Jeanie at the desk, concentrating hard as she sorts through paperwork. My mouth feels dry. It seems like a good time to take a break, maybe make a little peace.
I walk into the shop, wiping my hands on a rag.
“Hey, I’m getting hungry. You want to go get some lunch? My treat… that is, since it’s your first day.”
She doesn’t look up as she answers. “Sorry, I haven’t got time.”
I set the shop rag down on the counter. “Technically, I’m the boss, and I deem this acceptable… just this once,” I say, trying to joke.
She looks up, irritated. “I’m busy. If I’m going to work here, I’m going to be useful and that means making my way through all this… mess. Seriously, you’ve been open barely a week. How is this such a disaster already? Do you have any system here for deliveries and ordered parts or do you just drop them where you stand and leave them there?”
And there’s the shrew…
“Well, actually, my plan was to…” I start.
“And this,” she says, grabbing the rag, “I’ve found like ten others up here in random places. Where are you washing your shop cloths? And how about the receipts for your business purchases?”
“What about them?” I ask, irritated now too.
“Where are they?”
I look at her deadpan, “Everywhere. Happy hunting.”
She’s shaking her head, sighing in exasperation as she gets up and walks to the rack and wall where the retail accessories hang.
“How about your merchandise? You’ve got windshield wipers over here and fluid all the way over there. You’ve got rims in three different places… Is there any rhyme or reason to this? And the computer!” She’s bouncing all over the place, a flurry of judgement as she tears the store apart, hurling questions at me with a side serving of criticism.
“Alright, alright, I get it. There’s a lot to do. Isn’t that why you’re here? Can’t you just calm the hell down?”
From her expression, she doesn’t seem to like that response.
“Well, enjoy your lunch. I have neither the time nor appetite right now,” she’s says, huffing back to the desk and turning her back to me.
Okay, that didn’t go well.
I remind myself that maybe she’s under stress and I’d rather have a civil working relationship than a hostile one.
“Look, we can work on this together after lunch. I’ll show you the programs in the computer and how I’ve been organizing things so far,” I tell her.
“I’m only here to pay off the work on the GTO. I’m not here for social time,” she replies.
“Well, you don’t have to be here for either, since I already told you that you can just pay me back over time…”
She rises and comes over to me, green eyes flashing, getting so close I can smell her shampoo.
“And I already told you I don’t want strings attached. I don’t need you expecting any other kinds of gratitude for your charity.”
What in the hell?
“How exactly is a payment plan charity?” I ask, frustrated.
“Don’t try to twist words here. I’m not here for your social time. I’m here to do a job and that’s it!”
“Fine! Do what you want. I’m going to lunch!” I finally shout, snapping.
*
I storm out, frustrated and irritable. What is it going to take for her to get over this stupid belief I’m going to demand some kind of unsavory payment from her? My temper can withstand a lot—nearly a decade in the courtroom has given me nerves of steel, but this complicated headache of a girl is inexplicably testing the limits of that control.
I rake my hands through my hair, unable to take out my frustration any other way.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, momentarily relieved for the distraction.
Selena’s name pops up above the message, “Hey Big Boy, gimme a call soon as you can, it’s important -S”.
I reach the diner and pick a booth in the back, away from everyone, and order a burger and fries from Maggie before I dial Selena back.
“Big Boy Beckett,” she answers, “finally calling back. Long time no talk. You know I’ve texted you like five times already.”
I snap a little, impatient. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who told me to get out while I could, so what’s so important?”
“Alright, chill out. Don’t go getting lippy with me. I’m doing you a favor here.”
“How’s that?”
“I got a call from some guy named Buddy asking about you. Somehow he knew that you and I used to do the dirty and he wanted to know if I had any info on where you’d disappeared to. I told him I don’t fuck and tell. He gave me a bad feeling, though, so I’m asking, whose cornflakes did you shit in?”
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
“We have history… It’s complicated,” I say, wanting to leave it there.
“Tsk, tsk, Mason. Aren’t you supposed to be simplifying? Wasn’t that the whole point of your grand adventure into podunkville?”
“That was the idea, but even out here I’m a fucking magnet for problems.”
“What’d you get yourself into now?”
“Oh, just that I’ve hired an employee who hates my guts and thinks all I want is to get into her country cotton panties. It’s such a crock of bullshit too. She came to me, wanting to get a car repaired, but couldn’t afford the work. I try to suggest a payment plan but somehow that makes me a jackass and then I get my fucking head bitten off because I made the mistake of saying she was pretty, like it’s some kind of freaking mortal sin!”
“I thought you said you hired her…”
“Yeah, well despite her rabid hatred, she came back and offered to work off the cost. But now all she does is complain and nag about how disorganized my shop is and pick apart everything I say… It’s like the first year of law school all over again. It’s driving me freaking crazy and she’s barely started working.”
“I’m confused…”
“About what?” I ask.
“Why aren’t you fucking her?” Selena asks in that smug voice of hers.
I nearly spit out my coffee. “Are you insane?”
“What? You clearly want to… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this worked up over a chick.”
“Well, clearly you just don’t know me as well as you think.”
“Yeaaah… okay, whatever. I’m busy. Suffer in celibacy hell if that’s how you want to play it, but what are you going to do about this Buddy character? I heard he’s called a few other associates asking about you too.”
I shake my head at myself. “Hell, I don’t know. He wants me to come back and represent his nephew, but the last thing I want to do, now that I’ve finally gotten set up here, is to go back to that. Besides, Buddy is a classic piece of entitled Connecticut shit-baggery.”
There’s a hell of a lot more to it than that, but I can’t explain it to Selena, not without revisiting my own carefully guarded demons.
Damn it, why can’t the past just stay in the past?
“Well, he seems persistent and well-connected. Maybe just take the case and get him off your back? Is it worth him causing problems for you?”
“If I cave and take the case, it’s a matter of time before there’s another one. I can’t get dragged back into that.”
“So you’re going to blow him off then?”
“Yes… no, fuck, I don’t know. If I piss him off he has the means to make things very difficult for me to continue here.”
“Well, all I can say is you were never this indecisive when you were gettin’ some on the regular. Anyway, I have to go. I have a pretrial conference in twenty. Do me a favor—check in from time to time, just so I know you’ve haven’t been swallowed up by the Clampetts completely.”
Hanging up with her, I’m thinking about the last thing Selena said. It has certainly been the longest dry spell I’ve had. Starting up the shop, all my time has been wrapped up in the business and I haven’t really gotten out or met many women who aren’t married or in their eighties… aside from Jeanie.
And that sweet ass... those long legs wrapped around you.
What the hell am I thinking? She wants nothing to do with me, and besides, she’s almost certainly a little bit crazy. You never fuck crazy. It’s the golden rule.
Crazy chicks are the best lays, though, my head counters.
I breathe deep, trying to not think with my dick. It’s as bad an idea as letting a client with a criminal record testify at trial. That didn’t work out so well.
I need to deal with one problem at a time. Maybe I’ll call Buddy tonight, confront this thing head on before it gets out of control.
As I’m finishing my burger, feeling contentedly full, my mind wanders back to the shop again. It’s true. I feel a bad about snapping, especially given Jeanie is back there working while I’m sitting here brooding and eating.
Maggie brings the check over, but I stop her. “Hey, you know Jeanie pretty well, right?”
“Sure, since she was frying-size. Why?” she asks, a twinkle in her eye.
“She’s working for me part time over at the shop.”
“Yeah, I heard something about that,” she says, smiling.
“I want to take her something to eat. She didn’t want to stop working, you see, so I was hoping you would know what she’d want and maybe box it up for me?” I pile on the Beckett charm.
“Well, aren’t you just sweeter than stolen honey. Sure, I’ll get something out here for her.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I say, Maggie hurrying off to the kitchen.
I’ll apologize when I get back and maybe then we can finally be on civil terms. If there is one thing I feel certain of, it’s that I can’t go a couple of months tiptoeing around the shop like this.