Kneeling, I ducked under the car to take a look at the undercarriage, seeing no crazy rust spots or missing catalytic converters that had been recently sawed off.
“This one looks pretty good,” I said, standing again. “Want to show me the others?”
He nodded.
Going next door to the other three garages, he pulled them open for me, revealing a 1966 Chevy Chevelle, a 1932 Ford Coupe and another Chevy Bel Air but in black.
“For someone who wasn’t at all interested in driving these around to show off, he sure had some taste,” I mumbled.
“If he had one thing going for him, it was the right to brag about something.” Avery’s eyes crinkled slightly.
Too true.
That man was a damn shark when it came to showcasing his wealth.
But I supposed, coming from a billionaire family kind of ended up rotting your brain one way or another.
Pulling up the hood of the Chevelle, I noticed immediately that this one was definitely not as well preserved as the Bel Air. Poking at a few spots, it was clear that not only would a lot of the smaller pieces need to be replaced such as the timing belt. But the engine wasn’t looking too good either.
And that was simply a guesstimation based solely without starting up the actual car to see it in action.
“Uh oh. That face isn’t very promising.”
My body stiffened when Avery came up from behind me and leaned over the side of the car, our shoulders briefly brushing together. He was warm, even hidden under his jacket. A shiver rolled up my spine, causing me to clench my teeth tightly together.
“I can’t really give a good opinion unless I bring it in for a full work up.”
“You didn’t say that about the other one. Which leads me to believe you’ve got some kind of idea.”
I did. But not one that was solid yet.
Anytime a customer came into my shop with some kind of problem, I had at least two running theories. Rarely was I ever wrong on either prediction as most problems skewed one way or the other.
However, a situation like this one was a bit out of the norm. I wasn’t in my shop, putting a customer’s vehicle up on the stilts and hooking it up to my code reader to see what the hell was going on.
Instead, I was in a garage with nothing but my flashlight to help me.
What Ireallyshould’ve done was bring my entire tool belt.Thatwould’ve been the smart mechanic-thing to do. But no, I’d been immediately distracted the moment Avery had arrived at my shop looking good as hell while my coworkers all shot me knowing looks as we both headed out the front door.
“What I’m predicting is probably going to be expensive. Like I said, I can’t say for sure but this one is in rough shape just by looking under the hood. You’d have to get it towed to wherever you’re planning on taking it, which is going to be more money. Labor will probably cost a lot, too. This is all to say that you may want to cut your losses and sell as-is and let some hobbyist take on the costs.”
When I turned to look at Avery, I found him staring at me with a strange expression. He didn’t move for what felt like an entire minute of heavy silence. As he finally did so, it was to tilt his head to the side.
“Are you... not interested?” he asked.
“Interested in what?”
“Fixing the car, Brandon.”
My stomach tightened as my name rolled off his tongue. “That’s not what I said.”
A small smile crossed over his lips. “Oh. I see. You’re telling me you’re expensive.”
“No, I?—”
Where the hell did he getthatfrom?
He cut me off. “It’s fine. I don’t mind paying.”
