“Didn’t you say there were four mechanics on staff? What about the last guy?” I ask.
“He didn’t answer the phone. I tried three times.”
“Did they know I was coming today?”
“They did.”
“Did they know that I’m…” I gesture to my chest, which is covered but unmistakable beneath my fitted sweater.
“Of course.”
I laugh.
Rebel’s eyes bulge.
“I’m sorry.” I chuckle and pull my lips in to stop the laughter. “I just…” I snort. “I feel like I’ve been here before.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“It’s okay. Really. Planes and cars are different, but it’s kind of comforting to know that, no matter where I go in the trade, some things don’t change.”
“I wish they would.” Rebel folds her arms over her chest. “I hate that this is your welcome. At least come to The Pink Garage. Our shop is outdoors, but you won’t slip and fall. And we have pink lemonade.”
“Tempting. But maybe later. Now that I’ve seen the shop, there’s too much to do.”
“Are you sure?” Rebel looks like she wants to argue, but she backs off. “Suit yourself. I’ll call April and Cordelia over to help. It’s the least I can do.”
“Don’t bother the other mechanics. I’ll handle this.”
“But still…”
“Where’s the nearest grocery store? I need some cleaning supplies.”
Rebel tries to offer more help, but I talk her down until she gives me directions to the store. The autoshop is near downtown and in less than two minutes, I’m at the mart.
“I could have just walked,” I mumble, turning off my engine.
As I lean over to grab my purse from the passenger seat, I notice a man striding past my car. He’s tall with closely cropped hair and a blue T-shirt that highlights his impressive muscles.
But that’s not the reason I do a double take.
“Nat?” I gasp, eyes latching onto him as a familiar breathlessness takes over my body.
As if he heard me, Nat’s head swings my way. Sea-green eyes barrel right through my windshield. I screech and dive fully into the passenger seat.
My nose presses into the cushion and I’m reminded that I donotwash my car enough as the stench of sweat, dirt, and whatever years of caked up use have done to the fabric fills my nostrils.
Why am I hiding? This is so immature.
Despite the thought, I pull my hands against my chest and hold brutally still.
Nat gets into the car parked next to mine. I hear the purr of his engine as his car starts and then he drives out of the lot.
I wait a few beats to make sure he’s really gone and then sit straight up, eyes staring at the vacant spot where Nat used to be.
