But more than anything, she wanted to be in Animos. It would save her. It had to.
“Hey!”
“Yeah?” Captain looked up, his clenched fist hovering over Graham’s face.
Her mother was never going to come back. Holding onto her picture would never drag her up from the grave. But her dad was downstairs, and shecouldrescue him from forgetting her entire existence. She could, for the first time in her life, have what everyone else had. She could have a family. Closing her eyes against the pain, she extended the handful of pictures, internally saying goodbye.
“Here. I’m back in. Start the fire.” Her heart hardened even more than she thought possible. “I’ll get more champagne.”
Mama…She waited until she was down the hall to let a few traitorous tears slip down her cheeks.Please forgive me.
Chapter Two
Daniel Best wasn’t having what anyone would call a great first day on the job. His alarm had gone off late. His favorite pair of jeans had gotten a rip right in the crotch, a rip that matched the one in his favorite pair of boxers he was wearing. His junker of a car had barely spluttered up the hill toward his new job. And when he’d arrived, he discovered the garage where he’d be spending most of his time in service of the Dubarry family was a catacomb of cobwebbed and barely functional shells of classic cars, a wasteland of wealth.
None of itreallybothered him. He was an optimist, or at least, he found it much easier to navigate life as one. After all, it was good for the heart to get it racing first thing in the morning, and beating the clock to get to work on time certainly did that. A few stitches would make his boxers and jeans good as new. As for all of the car troubles he’d faced, both his own and at work, he liked a challenge. There was nothing better, in Daniel’s opinion, than taking a broken thing in his hands and helping it to work again. It was one of the reasons he fought so hard for this job. He’d been pounding the pavement looking for a second gig, attending lifeless interview after lifeless interview until he finally found the Dubarrys’ listing for an automotive curator.
The position required extensive knowledge of mechanics and classic cars, two things Daniel only possessed slight knowledge of when he first applied. But that was nothing a few days spent poring over books about engine repair and the Ford Model T couldn’t fix.
No, despite a rough morning, Daniel chose to see the bright side of things. The sun was out, displaying a treat of clear, blue skies to all of Oxford, and he was happily at work on a poorly maintained 1943 Coupe. It wasn’t his dream. He’d hoped that by now he’d be playing music for crowds of screaming fans instead of scraping by to make ends meet. But for now, the sun in the sky and the promise of a paycheck would have to be enough.
There was one small problem, though, with his new job. He didn’t know how to talk to aristocrats. Which made the appearance of the duke and his son more than slightly disconcerting. No one had briefed him on any kind of protocols and he’d only read a handful of Julian Fellowes novels, so he wasn’t entirely sure what to do when the two suited men opened the garage door at the precise stroke of nine o’clock to greet him.
“You there, boy,” the duke called from his place at the top of the steps leading down into the vast, cavernous garage. “Are you our new curator?”
Daniel wasn’t sure he particularly liked being calledboy, but this job paid better than he could have dreamed for a part-time gig. He’d bow and fetch the duke tea if it meant he signed those paychecks. Living with a handful of part-time jobs, paycheck-to-paycheck, didn’t give him the luxury of being picky about his work environments.
“Yes, sir,” he called.
That seemed to be sufficient for the duke, who nodded for his son to follow him down into the pit of the garage; they joined him at the hood of the Coupe. Without thinking, Daniel thrust his hand out toward the peer.
“Daniel Best, sir. Nice to meet you.”
If the slightly horrified look on Lord Dubarry’s face was any indication, he’d both said and done the exact wrong thing. Daniel followed the man’s eyeline down to his hands, which he realized were thoroughly covered with grease. “Sorry about that.” He couldn’t hold back a self-conscious chuckle and a silent prayer that they wouldn’t fire him over this. Yanking a rag from his back pocket, he scrubbed at his skin.
Thankfully, the younger Dubarry came to his rescue, offering his hand before Daniel could even consider offering his to the duke again.
“Thomas Dubarry. This is my father, Lord Dubarry.”
Their body language couldn’t have been any more different than that between Daniel and his own father. They kept themselves closed off, distant. And the son seemed intent on covering for his father’s coldness. Conversely, Daniel spent most of his time apologizing for his father’s exuberance. His mother, too. The family dynamics of the rich were clearly different than that of the peasants down below.
“Nice to meet you both.”
“And what experience do you have with cars?”
The question was so abrupt, Daniel almost fell backward with the force of it. Recovering quickly, he chuckled and attempted to make a joke out of his shock. “Is this another interview?”
Thomas answered, softening the edges of his reply with an understanding smile. “We’re just trying to get a feel for you. Mrs. Long’s an excellent judge, but—”
“But you’re sitting on about nineteen million pounds’ worth of historical hardware.”
Oh.Not another job interview. They were checking to make sure he wasn’t going to try and steal any of the merchandise. The subtle accusation stung.
One day, when he’d somehow sold a million records and had more money than this duke and all of his peerage friends put together, he’d never treat his help this way. But, for now, with more dreams than coin in his pockets, he stretched a smile across his face and tried to look obliging.
“Well, it’s a good thing I have my own car, then. Don’t need any of yours. You’ve got some real beauties in here. I mean, they will be once I get done with them.”
The joke didn’t land on the duke, who leaned back on his hips and regarded him with a cold dignity that only a man with nineteen million pounds in cars could possess, but it did land on Thomas, who turned to him with new respect.
