“So,” Thomas began. “Tell us about yourself.”
The duke offered a dismissive wave. “I’ve seen enough.”
“Father!”
Not even the stern rebuke of his son could stop the older man. He’d turned away from them both, showing himself back up the stairs, tossing words carelessly over his shoulders like banana peels. “Keep him on. He’s suitable. I’ll be in my study. Have my car out front in precisely two hours. And I meanpreciselytwo hours.”
The old man disappeared, leaving them alone in the garage. A wince passed over Thomas’s face.
“Sorry about that.”
“No. I understand.”
Truth be told, Daniel reallydidn’tunderstand. He’d never met a man quite like the duke, but perhaps that was just because he’d never met a duke before. Maybe they were all like that.
“I’m afraid I do have some questions for you if you don’t mind.”
“Shoot.” He returned to the car’s engine, a performative gesture. He figured he wouldn’t make a great impression if he stopped working as soon as the boss came in the room.
“I’ll be honest with you. When we listed this post, we were expecting someone older. Statelier. Frankly, we expected a pensioner who would contract the hard stuff out to a shop. What are you doing here?”
“I like fixing things.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Danieldidlike fixing things and he always had. But usually his tools of choice were his voice and his guitar. Music had a kind of healing power to it, the ability to stitch hearts back together and transform a group of estranged, singular people into a singular, swaying crowd. Thomas continued his line of questioning.
“And you’re an Oxford man?”
“…I was born and raised here, yeah.”
“But you didn’t attend the university?”
“I didn’t go to university.”
“I see.”
I see. The death knell of his prospects here rang in his quickly reddening ears. This was where most of his job interviews ended. The moment they heard he hadn’t progressed, they dropped him without even bothering to hear about the time he’d spent teaching himself, all the books he’d read, all of the study and devotion to learning he’d brought upon himself without the help of a university tutor. Nervous tingles tickled his tongue into a self-defense.
“But you can depend on me, you know. I’m a dependable guy. I’ve worked since the day I turned sixteen and I read like it’s my job and—”
“No. I don’t doubt you at all. I’m just…”
“Just…?”
Resurfacing from beneath the hood of the car, he watched as Thomas paced a small tract of the garage, his brow furrowed into thick lines of wrinkles. The sudden shift from lighthearted interrogation to reflective distress was strange enough to draw all of Daniel’s attention.
“My sister’s in the house a lot and I worry about her. I just want to make sure whoever we’ve hired is someone I can trust.”
The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the implication, though he didn’t let the offense seep into his voice. “And a university education makes someone trustworthy?”
“No. Actually, in this case, I feel safer knowing you’re not like the sort she usually hangs out with,” he said, more to himself than anything else.
Daniel didn’t quite know what to say to that or even if he wassupposedto say anything, but he tucked the remark into the back of his mind for later examination.
“So, you’ve always wanted to be a mechanic, then?”
“No, actually. I’m a musician. Or, at least, I’m trying to be.”
“Ah, a starving artist, eh?”
