Her determination isn’t desperate, but I want to learn more.
“Why?” I glance up at her.
“That’s personal.”
I look at her and quirk up a brow. “But I’m your boss, and you need this job.”
Her lips curve slightly. Not quite a smile, but close. “Fair point.” She takes a breath. “My dad got injured a few years ago, and he can’t work anymore. The insurance doesn’t cover enough, so my parents are barely able to pay their bills. This salary means they don’t have to worry, and they won’t lose their house.”
I stop working on the car, meeting her eyes.Fuck.That’s a lot of responsibility for someone in their late twenties.
The way she talks about her parents and what she’s going through bothers me more than it should.
Most people in my world have never worried about money. They’ve never had to stretch a paycheck or decide which bills get paid first. Remy knows what that’s like. She’s keeping her family afloat, and she doesn’t act as if anyone owes her anything for it.
I turn back to the battery, tightening the connections more aggressively than necessary. “That’s why you put up with Damon’s shit?”
“Partly.” Her voice goes quieter. “And partly because fighting back proves that I’m everything he told you I am.”
“He said you were vindictive. That you couldn’t handle the breakup.”
“I know what he said.”
“Was he lying?” I ask.
She’s silent long enough that I look up again.
“I don’t want to talk about Damon.” Her words are flat, final.
I nod. “Okay.”
I return to the car engine, and we don’t speak again until I’m done.
“Try starting it now.”
She slides into the driver’s seat and turns the key. The engine catches immediately, rough at first, then it smooths out.
“You fixed it.” Genuine surprise fills her words. “Hidden depth, Enzo Jacobs.”
I grunt. Depth she doesn’t need to see.
“It should hold for now. Get it serviced.” I close the hood and wipe my hands on a shop rag. “And think about an upgrade.”
“I’ll just get my car serviced.”
We pay her enough money that she can afford a better car. So if she keeps it, that’s her prerogative.
“Fine. Drive the death trap. Just don’t make it my problem when it strands you somewhere.”
That gets a surprised laugh. She climbs out of the car but doesn’t move to leave. Instead, she leans against the door, studying me. “Such a charmer.”
“I didn’t say I was nice.” And there is truth to those words.
“But Enzo, you are being kind of nice to me,” she responds.
Hearing my name in her mouth makes me forget what we were talking about.
"You found a hole in my code I didn't see." I shrug. "That earns you a little civility."
