I get up for work later than usual. It’s only a few minutes before opening time. Abraham will be here any second.

Marie still seems to be sleeping, so I slide out of bed as quietly as I can.

Brushing my teeth and washing up quickly, I go back to the bedroom nook to dress.

Marie stirs and turns over, opening those dark, mysterious eyes to look up at me. They take a second to focus as she comes all the way back from Dreamland.

She seemed to sleep well. I know because I kept waking up to look at her. She calmed down quite a lot last night, but I know the situation with her family will continue to bother her until it’s resolved.

I just hope that it’s sooner than later.

“Hey gorgeous,” I say, quietly. I pull on a pair of clean boxers and a work shirt.

“Hey,” she says, her voice full of sleep. Those luscious lips curl up slightly, making me feel great that she’s got a smile for me so early in the morning.

She stretches, fists in the air and back arching. As she does, I hear a soft ppppfffttt sound coming from under the sheets.

I chuckle.

“Oops! Oh my god…um, excuse me,” she says, sheepishly, turning red.

“Ohio Barking Spiders,” I say, laughing. “Noisy bastards, aren’t they?”

“Heh! Yes…and, um, I hear they’re very smelly, too,” she adds. Laying on her back, she flattens her body and then holds the sheets down on either side of herself with her arms, as if to keep the fart trapped inside.

Then she looks away and whistles innocently.

Funny girl!

We both chuckle, her face reddening even more.

God help me. This girl is so adorable…even her farts are cute.

Er, what? What the hell is wrong with me?

Has any other woman I’ve been with had cute farts, ever?

I must be falling in love.

“You might as well stay put anyway,” I say. “No need for you to be up.”

“Nah, I’m getting up,” she says, but she doesn’t move. “In a minute. When you go away.”

I grin, shaking my head, and take a pair of work overalls from their hook on the wall.

Face still pink, she bites her lip. “I’ll put coffee on in a sec. Then, I’ll make you something to eat.”

“No time for brekkie today,” I say, “but I’ll take you up on it if you want to make lunch.”

“Okay, sure. Meanwhile, I guess I’ll…um…ah…oh, wait. Shit.” She gives me a dejected look.

“What?” I pause, my overalls halfway up my leg.

“Dammit,” she says. “My car’s at home. I have no fresh clothes to wear and I have no idea what I’m gonna do with myself today.”

“You could use the washer and dryer. Or, if you can make do with what you wore here until later, I could run you home after lunch, maybe. You could grab some clothes and your car, if you want. Or we could just call you a cab. I’ll pay.” I buckle the straps on my overalls. “On one condition…you come straight back.”

She smiles, considering my offer.

“I’d take you now, but Abraham and I have a job to finish first. And then I have to get bills ready to be paid and get invoicing done. I only do the paperwork twice per month, so…there’s a lot.”

“Only twice per month? How come?”

“Remember I mentioned my dyslexia? Paperwork’s not my strong point.”

“Oh, right.” Then, her expression perks up. “Hey! That’d give me something to do!”

“Uh..umm…well, like I said…there’s a lot. An awful lot.”

“So? The more the better. It’ll help me keep my mind off things, too.”

“Well, alright. The truth is, I really could use some help with that stuff. I always get it done, but I sure don’t look forward to doing it.”

“Okay, thanks!” She says it like I’ve just given her a thousand dollar bill or something.

This is not your average spoiled rich girl, that’s for sure.

From below, comes the metallic clacking of a key in the shop door, followed by the electronic beeping of the alarm code being keyed in.

“Abraham’s here. I’ll go down and let you get dressed.”

* * *

If Abraham finds Marie’s presence strange, he says nothing, merely nodding and extending a hand when I introduce the two of them.

“It’s nice to meet you. As you might expect, I am familiar with your family,” he tells her, in his oddly formal way of speaking. Abraham’s an old-school guy, his greying, Amish-style beard and bald, shiny head giving him a monk-like air of dignity. “And even though I am of course on Mark’s racing crew, I look forward to cheering for you both on the day of the race.”

“Thank you,” she says, “it’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Shall I get started on Mr. Silverman’s vehicle, boss?”

“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Leading Marie into my small, cluttered office, I quickly gather up a pile of invoices and stack them to one side.

Her eyes widen when she sees how much paperwork there is.

“Yeah. I told you, there’s a lot. Don’t worry if you can’t get it all done.”

“No, it’s cool. Is all this just from this month?”

“Yep. I usually stay up late and just get through it all.”

“This is…this is a lot of work. Mollenkamp Motors is busy as hell.”

“Yeah. We do okay, but honestly, it’s overwhelming sometimes. I’ll have to hire someone to help me sooner or later.”

She nods, already gathering up papers and looking at them.

“Those are all packing slips. They need to be sorted, matched to their invoices, then input into the system for payment. I’ve been doing payables on the fifteenth and thirtieth of every month.”

“Shit! That must be hard on you. Today’s the fourteenth, so this is good timing then,” she says.

“Yeah.” I feel sheepish about it being so last-minute but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She picks up a pile of papers and flicks through them quickly. “I know all these other suppliers, too,” she says. “That will make things easier.”

“Good,” I say. I point to an in-basket on my desk. “All those are work orders which are finished and waiting invoicing. Some are paid already, which just need to be posted. But some are on account. It says on each order which is which.” She picks up the first few in that pile, looks through them, and nods. “I need to get some printed and ready to be mailed, and some just need to be emailed.”

“You still have clients that like snail-mail too, huh?”

“Yep. All the older ones. Here, you sit down and fire up the computer.”

Taking a seat in my desk chair, she turns the computer on. When the loading screen appears, she says, “Oh, it’s Ritty,” naming the auto shop software I’m using. “No need to show me anything, I know it already.”

“Cool. I thought you might.”

“Do you want the work orders stamped after they’re posted?”

“Yes, please,” I say, pointing to my little collection of stamps for paperwork.

“And then, filed?”

“Yes, please,” I say. “The cabinets are under the stairs. I can show you…”

“Nah, no need. I’ll figure it out.” She smiles up at me. “I can take it from here, babe.”

Babe. I love it when she calls me Babe.

I could get used to this…having her here, taking care of paperwork and calling me Babe.

Scooping the messy pile of paperwork from the in-basket, she deftly sorts it by date as I watch.

She looks up at me again, a glint in her eye. “Are you going to stay here and loom over me all day?”

“Nope. Heh. You obviously know what you’re doing, pretty much.”

“Yeah,” she smiles. Mmm, that smile. “Pretty much.”

I bend for a kiss. It’s so nice, I linger for another. And another.

She laughs. “Did you want me to do this, like, today?”

“Yes. Now, stop distracting me and get to work!”

“Yaz, Boss,” she says, giving me a saucy salute.

“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, then I dash out the door, grinning.

* * *

Due to unforeseen difficulties, my project with Abraham turns into an ordeal that takes up the whole morning.

By the time we’re in the home stretch, Marie is just finishing the paperwork. She completes, in a few hours, what would take me a day and a night to deal with.

If that isn’t enough, she reports to me that not only is all the invoicing ready to mail, and all the bills ready for me to pay, she’s set up the inventory module properly and it will now prepare purchase orders for me at the touch of a key.

Then she hurries off and disappears while Abraham and I get back under the hood of the vehicle we’re working on for the final push to get the job done.

We finish up right before lunchtime. When I go use the shop restroom to wash up, I see that it’s so sparkling clean, I hate to dirty it up again.

She cleaned it within an inch of its life.

Holy crap. Is this how she usually works… or is she just trying hard to impress me?

Not that I’m complaining.

Abraham goes into the restroom after me. When he comes out, he catches my eye and we both grin.

Hmmm.

Next, I go into my little office. She’s not there. Must be upstairs, then. Quickly, I sit at my desk, open the accounting program and check over her work.

Everything looks good.

Next, I look at what she did with the invoicing, and then try out the inventory-slash-purchasing system she set up.

It’s all good.

Damn… color me impressed!

Abraham calls out that he’s taking off for lunch. I take that as my cue to head upstairs and find her.

She’s in the kitchen, fixing lunch. Ham sandwiches, pickles, quartered apples and yoghurt. A tall glass of chocolate milk stands next to each of our plates.

“I see you found the chocolate syrup,” I say, kissing her cheek.

“My favorite,” she replies.

“This is awesome, honey,” I say. “I’m starving!”

“Me too,” she says.

We sit down together and each take huge bites of our sandwiches, looking at each other with satisfaction.

Her phone goes off. She grabs it and reads the incoming message, taking another big bite of food.

“Mmmph! Ish Shommy,” she says, trying to speak through her mouth full of sandwich. She reads the text, chewing and swallowing. “He…wants to know if it’s okay if he drops by later.”

“Sure,” I say. “It’ll be nice to meet him properly, face-to-face.”

She nods absently, already thumbing her reply. Her eyes stay on her phone as the next message comes in.

“Aww! He…he says my mom packed a bag for me. He’s bringing it with him.” Her voice quivers, her eyebrows quirk upwards and her eyes get shiny with tears.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah! Yes!” She laughs, sniffling. “I’m just…I’m just…I dunno, glad my mother’s not mad at me.”

“Course she isn’t,” I say. “And your dad won’t be forever, either. Everything’ll be cool, baby. You’ll see.”

* * *

With all the paperwork done, my afternoon is a lot more relaxed than I was otherwise planning. After lunch, Marie is back in my office poking around the computer system to see if there’s anywhere else she can increase its efficiency.

God bless that girl.

With the newly freed-up time, Abraham and I make short work of three more jobs.

Yeah. I could definitely get used to this.

It’s nearly four o’clock when I hear the familiar sound of a finely-tuned, V8 engine. Abraham and I both turn to look out the open garage bay door as Marie’s midnight-blue Firebird pulls into the parking lot.

Grabbing a rag, I wipe my hands and go stand under the open door.

The tall, handsome young lad I saw at the track yesterday gets out of the car, then leans back in and pulls out a fluorescent pink Hello Kitty tote bag. It’s such a bright pink color, it’s almost violent on the eyes.

“Hi,” he says, nodding at me. “I brought Marie’s bag. I don’t advise looking at it directly without sunglasses.” We both chortle as he holds his hand out towards me. “Tommy,” he says. “Nice to meet ya.”

“Mark,” I say, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Sorry about that, uh, thing at the track yesterday.”

“Eh, no worries.”

I introduce him to Abraham, who gives him the usual formal greeting. Marie comes out of the office with an ear-to-ear smile.

Tommy hands her the big pink bag and the car keys. “You brought my car? Awesome!”

“Yeah. Mike’s gonna swing by and pick me up in a bit. We’re gonna shoot a few rounds of pool.”

“Cool. Thanks, Thomas. I really appreciate it.”

“No probs, sis.”

“You wanna come in for a minute?” I say. “Have a soda or something?”

“Sure, thanks. But…um, well… is there somewhere we can talk?” He looks at Marie. “Dad and I talked this morning and he wants to make you an offer.”