I took a deep breath and steeled my spine. “Yeah, Beanstalk. I forgive you.”
The owner of Sandusky’s Auto Repair Shop looked like a balding owl with his squat body and tuft of hair on top of his head.
“Two thousand dollars!” I shouted.
Milton peered at me and nodded.
“Two thousand dollars,” I repeated, forcing myself to take a calming tone.
He chewed on his cinnamon toothpick. “Yep.”
“How about eighteen hundred?”
“Two thousand.”
“How about sixteen hundred?” I asked with what I hoped was a winning smile.
“Two thousand.”
“Come on, this is a small town! Haggle with me.”
“Okay. Two thousand dollars.”
“If I cry will you knock off fifty bucks?” I pleaded.
Brooks choked on his laugh.
Milton leaned forward. “I’ve got three daughters under the age of ten. I’m immune to tears. Two thousand dollars.”
My shoulders slumped. “Will you excuse me just a second?”
“Sure thing,” Milton said, tonguing the cinnamon toothpick to the other side of his mouth.
I looked at Brooks. “Don’t follow me.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
I rushed out of the lobby of the auto repair shop and went around to the side of the building and heaved up my insides.
You should never eat breakfast before going to an auto repair shop and finding out the cost of damage to your rental car.
Why hadn’t I gotten insurance on the dang thing? Because I’d been trying to save a couple of bucks. And now I owed two grand.
Pay now or pay later.
I wiped my mouth and stood. When I turned, Brooks was there, holding out a bottle of water.
“I told you not to follow me,” I snapped.
“Drink,” he commanded.
With a sigh, I grasped the water bottle and took a swig, rinsing my mouth out before spitting.
“God, I’m so embarrassed,” I muttered. “Did you see me throw up?”
“No. Heard it, though. As did the two mechanics in the garage. The gate was open.”
“Oh, God, why did you tell me that?” I pushed the bridge of my glasses up my nose. “Brooks, I don’t have two thousand dollars. That’s it then—I’ll have to call my grandfather and tell him I quit my job and that I need to borrow money.”
