She glanced toward Jake again, and he forced himself to rally with asmile-smile. Brandon was being a dick, which meant it was up to him to be the decent person. The decent person who was laser focused on his job and his job only, like usual, no matter how much he enjoyed listening to her radio banter.
“I’ve got cables,” he said, surreptitiously swiping his damp hands down the front of his pants.
“Well, thank God,” she said with a breathy laugh. “Come white knight for me?”
No. Yes.Fuck.
“Yeah. Sort it out, Jakehammer,” Brandon said with a wave of his hand, blissfully unaware of Jake’s struggle to find his equilibrium. His eyes dropped to his phone yet again, and his thumbs started flying. “My ex apparently wants to start another text fight about whose weekend it is with the dog.”
“Jakehammer?” Mabel tossed a playful look over her shoulder as they exited the office and headed down the hall.
“I beg you, do not.”
Her voice was as decadent off the air as it was on. Only three days working on the periphery of a radio station and he already understood why some people made this their career. The job-centric thought summoned the calm, professional competency he was known for in Chicago. Of course there, he was usually examining audits instead of searching for battery cables.
“Where’s the van?” He stepped ahead to hold the door open for her, wincing at the blast of summertime heat.
“Around back.” She pointed. “We always keep the spot next to it open in case it needs a jump.”
She stopped short when they reached the far end of the parking lot and he hit the unlock button on his Jeep.
“This isyours?” she asked as she clambered into the passenger seat.
“Yes.” He slid behind the wheel to find her eying the interior with unabashed interest. Although his Jeep was obviously a decade old, he kept it looking like he’d driven it off the lot that morning.
“Huh.” Her finger traced the immaculate dashboard.
“What?” He fired up the engine and backed out of the spot, starting to suspect that his ride wasn’t impressing her with any kind of professional anything.
“It just…” She flapped a hand toward his suit-covered chest. “It doesn’t really fit your whole ‘I earned a million dollars before breakfast and made three assistants cry’ vibe. Don’t you guys all drive, like, black Audis?”
“I’ve never seen the point of spending money on a luxury car,” he said stiffly. Three of his coworkers did in fact drive black Audis, but the thought of spending money like that physically pained him. Far better to funnel it into rainy-day funds for his mom and Finn.
His mom and Finn.That’swhy he was here. He needed to push away any other considerations, including the woman next to him smelling like a fancy garden, to get his job done.Work-mode Jake, activate.
He circled the building and eased into the spot next to the van plastered with the Brick logo, then shucked his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and grabbed the jumper cables. As he got to work hooking the clamps to the two batteries, Mabel’s words refused to stop tumbling through his brain. Once she got the van’s engine turned over, she joined him on the sunbaked asphalt where they stood in silence until he asked, “Is that really how I come off?”
Her eyes snapped up to his.
“Hmm?” She bundled her hair into her fist and lifted it off her neck. “Oh, the fancy-businessman-driving-an-old-Jeep thing?”
At his curt nod, she dropped her hair with a shrug, gesturing toward him. “Your suit looks like it cost more than your ride. I made assumptions.”
“I’ve never once made an assistant cry. Wouldn’t dream of it. That’s a hard job.” He kept his eyes on the motor of his Jeep. When he was fifteen, his mom had answered phones for a slimy insurance agent who sent her home in tears at least twice a week, so he’d picked up an after-school job bagging groceries. It added enough cushion to the household budget that she’d been able to search for a less stressful position. The day she quit the insurance job, the tears she’d cried had been happy ones and he’d figured out the best way he could contribute to the family.
“So, how are you liking the glamorous world of radio?”
The echo of Brandon’s question jolted him back to the present. “Why does everybody keep asking me that? You guys sound like a cult.”
She pressed her hands together as if in prayer and bobbed her head. “The cult of radio. You’re in it now, bub.”
“Clearly.” He stepped forward to unhook the cables from the now-purring engine. “It’s fine. It’s a job. One that’ll land me a partnership hopefully.” Then he’d be back in Chicago, and she’d be here using that voice to stroke the eardrums of everyone within listening radius.
“I hope you get it soon then. You don’t want to fall behind on your car payments.” She patted his Jeep’s bright green front quarter panel with a grin, and he bit back the urge to laugh.
“Careful. This Jeep is the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”
“Ooooh.” She caressed its panel again, then her phone pinged, and she fished it out of her pocket with a groan. “Shit, I’ve gotta go. I’m supposed to be doing a live remote at the Beaucoeur Public Library’s north branch in forty.” She clambered back into the van and cranked down the window. “Thanks for your help.”
