He was disappointed. Molson wasn’t getting very far. He’d put a bug in various ears, asking for audiences, always a little higher up each time and he was starting to get a little blow back. No one wanted to talk to him. He’d been persistent. He was probably becoming annoying, harassing gang members every time he saw them, telling them he needed to speak to someone higher up on the food chain.
Molson sighed and tried to concentrate on work.
Sammy wiped his greasy hands on the greasy rag. It was hard to tell which had more grease on it, the rag, Sammy or his overalls. “Time to close up.”
Molson was tired. The hours as the hospital, the shop, looking after Margot, it was all getting to him. He finished sanding a burr on a compartment that was being readied to install in a car then put away his tools. The other guys were already headed for the exits.
“You locking up?” Sammy asked.
“I got it,” Molson nodded. He was last, and he knew Sammy had tickets to a game that he was going to take his son to. It would be unfair to make him wait while Molson washed up.
“Good,” Sammy was out the door with a whistle.
Molson enjoyed the silence of the building while he washed his hands, arms and face. He peeled off his coveralls, putting them away in his locker, exchanging his work boots for more comfortable shoes.
The door opened, and he could hear shoes sounding across the cement floor.
“We’re closed,” Molson finished tying his laces and straightened up.
“Good. I was hoping to catch you before you left,” Holly smiled as she approached. She looked curiously around. “What do you do here?”
Surprised that she was here, Molson took a moment to answer. “We custom fit compartments into vehicles. We replace the glass with bulletproof and put extra shielding in panels. When it’s done, it looks like a regular car.”
“Who needs a car with secret compartments and to be bulletproof?” Holly wondered.
“The mayor,” Molson shrugged. “Politicians, some famous people, rich or people who are big in business.”
“I guess I never really thought about it,” Holly mused.
Molson looked at her curiously. “Why are you here?”
“I changed my mind about that date you offered,” Holly informed him. It had been a bit of a surprise to herself when she had decided to come.
“Yeah?” Molson’s lips tugged into a smile before it disappeared as realization struck him. “I made plans.”
“Oh,” Holly tired not to be disappointed. She had hoped that he was serious about her when he’s asked her out, not just one of his games. “I guess we could go out some other time.”
“No,” Molson grabbed her hand before she could leave, threading his fingers through hers. “Come with me. It won’t be like a real date or nothing, yet we could still spend the time together.”
“Okay,” Holly was pleased.
“You got comfortable shoes?” Molson looked down at her feet.
“Always,” Holly replied. She wasn’t one for heels. Flats were as fancy as she got. Tonight, she’d worn sneakers with her jeans.
“Good, cuz we’re going to do a lot of walking,” he told her as he pulled a duffle bag out of his locker.
After locking up the shop, he approached a motorcycle, taking out an extra helmet for her.
“Is that yours?” Holly eyed the bike.
“Drew’s. I borrowed it,” Molson held out the helmet to her. “You don’t ride?”
“I’ve never been on one,” she admitted.
“You’ll love it,” a grin crept along his face. Molson helped her with putting the helmet on before straddling the bike. “Hop on.”
Holly gingerly sat behind him. He showed her where to put her feet.
