“That car ain’t gon’ fix itself. You want my help, or would you rather grab a wrench and give it a go yourself?” he shot back, a lazy smirk tugging the corners of his mouth.
A spark of something electric zipped between them, which left her startled since she had a rebuttal. It faltered the minute those piercing eyes landed on hers. Steady. Intrusive.
“How long is this going to take?” Giselle demanded, tucking her arms across her chest.
“I don’t control the weather, princess. Maybe you should learn a little patience,” he suggested.
“Don’t call me that.” Giselle griped, lip curling in contempt.
Heavy caught the sternness in her tone and the combativeness in her eyes. The word was a trigger. Holding his hands up in surrender, he simpered cutely.
“Seems to suit you,” he noted, tipping his head to the side.
“You don’t know shit about me,” she countered. “And what do they call you?”
“The name is Heavy. Sit tight. There’s bottled water in that mini fridge over there and coffee in that pot. I can’t guarantee it’s fresh, though.” He turned and marched back over to the open hood he’d been working under.
Giselle’s jaw tightened from his complete disregard, as if she was bothering him. Nobody talked to her like that. She damn sure wasn’t some weak-willed little bird who needed to be saved. Most of her life, she’d dealt with all the ass kissing because of her parents. This man, Heavy, didn’t care who she was or who she was related to for that matter. Stomping over to the waiting area, Giselle turned up her nose at the outdated furniture before plopping down in a chair.
When her phone rang again, she sighed, knowing it was Maisie. “Hello.”
“Where are you? Are you okay? Mama is worried. This storm is getting bad, and they’re talking about flooding in some areas,” her cousin ranted with concern.
“Mais, don’t be mad.”
“G, don’t tell me to not be mad, just tell me what the hell is going on.”
“I caught a flat. Your car is around the corner, and I’m sitting in this auto shop, waiting for the rain to let up so I can get it fixed.”
“Are you kidding me?” Maisie groaned. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know. Now I’m sitting here in this shop with this mean ass man…”
“Wait, what shop?” Maisie prodded.
“Sapien Auto,” Giselle answered.
“So… you’ve met our Heavy.” Maisie tittered.
“Oh, so you know Mr. Grouch? The hell is wrong with him?” Giselle’s gaze shifted in his direction as he pulled the top half of his jumper down and let it hover at his waist.
Now, his thick, tatted arms and hands were on display in the wife beater. Giselle couldn’t look away as he knelt back under the hood to continue tinkering with whatever he was doing.
Maisie chuckled. “Heavy’s cool. A little anti-social, but him and Crew are friends.”
“So, people actually like his rude ass?”
“Have you seen him?” Maisie queried. “I know you’re a little green and probably used to those men in custom suits, with no swag or real personality…” She let her sentence trail off. “Heavy is a different breed, though. I’m a married woman, but even I can’t deny that man has a very dominating presence. It’s some women around here with no shame, too. Young, old, married, or single. Heavy leaves these bitches swooning, and the nigga barely strings two sentences together at a time.”
“Hmm, I guess.” Giselle tucked one arm under the other while still holding the phone to her ear and tearing her eyes away from him.
“You are something else.” Her cousin cackled. “Well, as long as you’re safe. I’m sure Heavy will fix you up when he gets a chance. Just try to be nice. You know how your little prissy ass can be.”
The light above her flickered before the entire shop went dark, and Giselle’s eyes lifted to the ceiling. Outside, there wasa loud cracking sound, like something had blown up, and she flinched from her chair at the sparks shooting across the sky through the window.
“Great.” Giselle moaned.
“Shit, the power just went out,” Maisie declared.
