“Sure am. Merv said you think something’s wrong with your radiator?”
“Yep. It started smoking. White smoke. No weird noises.”
Patrick nods, then starts hooking the van up to the tow hook. I stand there, debating if I should call Slater just to have something to do. I don’t like feeling useless, it makes my neck sweat, but I don’t want to get in the way of him doing his job.
When he gets my van all hooked up, he directs me to the passenger seat of his truck. “Mikey’ll get right on this. You broke down at a good time, the shop’s pretty slow right now.”
I want to protest it’snota good time to be broken down. Not when I need to get back to Cupid’s Cove so I can be ready to walk in the Valentine’s Day parade. Not when I have two hundred sugar cookies to frost for the festivities tomorrow. Ruby can?—
Oh, shit. Ruby!
She can handle the café by herself but not all the prep work that goes into it if she’s busy at the front.
I’ll call her when we get to the shop.
The shop iswhat I imagine most mechanic shops look like—a red brick building with three garage bays, cars parked in thecracking asphalt parking lot, and a worn and weathered sign boasting “Merv’s Auto” in fading orange paint.
While the outside has clearly seen better days, the inside is pristine. Even with the faint smell of grease and oil lingering in the air, the lobby is clean. There are vintage car posters on the wall and a few model cars on small shelves. A row of cracked leather chairs and a basic coffee machine are in one corner and a neatly organized desk with a computer and phone in the other.
Patrick dropped me off in the front and told me to wait while he gets the van unhooked, so I sit in one of the chairs, wincing when the wood and leather groan under my weight. I’m a big guy, and with the way my luck is going today I wouldn't be surprised if the chair breaks.
When I’m pretty certain it won’t, I pull out my phone and call Ruby.
“Saint? Where are you? You were supposed to be back by now!”
“My van started smoking?—”
“Oh mygod! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Rubes, promise. It was white smoke, nothing to worry about.”Probably.“I’m at a shop right now getting it looked at.”
I hear her sigh of relief. “Well, hopefully they can fix it so you can make it back here. Loralee would riot if Cupid weren’t here for the festival. You’d have to hold a press conference and offer a public apology.”
I bite back a groan. Loralee Dobson is a thorn in my side, and her wrath is not something I want to incur. “I know, but I’m sure everything will be fine. We might need to enlist some help frosting cookies, though.”
“I’ll call Stell and Slater.”
“Slater can help transport, but don’t let him touch the cookies. He’ll ruin them.”
“But they’re already baked.”
“I know. You remember what happened with the cucumber salad.” I nearly gag at the memory. I love Slater. He’s my best friend, the brother I never had, but he could burn water. I’m not going to let my reputation hinge on his ability to frost a damn cookie, not when the Valentine’s Day Festival is so important. Slater knows cars, I know how to bake. I feed him, he changes my oil.
A perfect friendship.
I can practically hear Ruby roll her eyes. “Fine. Let me know when you’re on your way back. Where are you, anyway?”
“Shop outside of Salem.”
“Right. You had to get your special fancy Dutch cocoa for your damn lava cakes.”
“Don’t forget about the gluten-free flour.”
“How could I forget?” I faintly hear the bell from the café, signaling a customer. “I gotta go, Saint. Keep me updated.”
I don’t get to respond before she hangs up.
I let out a long, deep breath. Everything is going to be fine. I won’t have to look for a new van, I’ll make it back to Cupid’s Cove in time to get the cookies frosted, and I’ll have ample time to double-check my costume and make sure my arrow isn’t broken again. I’ll still need to trim my beard and chest hair, but who needs sleep when tomorrow is the best day of the year?
