But the color on the car didn’t change without the goggles.
It was still a silvery blue.
It was still Silver Mink.
I left the work order for you at the top of your desk, Rip had said during lunch.
I had picked up the work order on the desk. I knew it. Silver Mink, it had said. I knew it. I wouldn’t have screwed up reading it.
But… Silver Mink…. Something about the color, about the name, didn’t sit well.
Silver Mink, Silver Mink, Silver Mink….
Wasn’t Silver Mink the original color he had requested?
Had I read the wrong order?
Heart freaking instantly pounding, I swallowed and tried to think about what I’d done. I had picked up the invoice, read through it three times, and gone to get the paint. I knew that for sure. Iknewit.
But…
I ran back to my desk and went through the invoices sitting on it. About a minute into looking, I found it—themmore like it. I freaking foundthem.
It only took a second to look up the work order on my computer to confirm my suspicions.
I had started painting the cara different freaking color.
Holy crap.
Not Brittany Blue.
Not Brittany Bluelike one of the invoices requested. Therightinvoice.
Why hadn’t I double-checked? I always did.Always.
“Shit.” I blinked down at the sheet, the urge to throw up getting strong and stronger. “Shit, shit,shit!”
I wanted to punch the wall.Punch myselfmore like it.But the fact was, I remembered that I’d been thinking about the phone call Mr. Cooper had mentioned and my sister bailing on me, and being frustrated with my coworker for screwing me over. I’d gone back downstairs after lunch, still thinking about things that I couldn’t change even if I wanted to, gone to my room, spent another four hours sanding down the car then priming it. I let it bake while I picked up the first file I found for the Thunderbird, read it, and finally pulled the paint from the locker where we kept all the extra unused supplies.
The rest was history. I grabbed the paint, prepared everything, Miguel helped me move the cars around. Then I got in the booth and started spraying, my head going back to the text and the phone call despite the headphones I had on blasting theWickedsoundtrack into my ears. Then,then, it had clicked.
Holy freaking shit, I had read the wrong work order.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no,oh no.
“Fucking shit,” I whispered to myself, panic filling up my stomach, making me nauseous instantly.Instantly.
For one microsecond, I asked myself how I could fix this without involving anyone. But just as quickly as I wondered that, I reminded myself that there was no way. What was I going to do? Hide the car and do everything all over again? The primer alone needed a day to dry.
I wasn’t sure I believed in miracles, and I wasn’t about to start now.
My hands went up to my hair on their own, smoothing over the chin-length hair I had bobby-pinned back behind my ears to keep it out of my face. I tugged on the ends, hard. But the color didn’t change and the words on the work order didn’t magically disappear, and I was still in deep shit.
There was only one thing I could do.
Suck it up, sugar tits,my sister would say.
What if you get fired?My brain tried to ask the rest of me.
