Huge.
A number she only liked to see in the plus column of
her bank account. A number that meant either stunt camp would not happen or she’d have to dig into that nest egg and put off house hunting for another six months.
Neither of these things was appealing.
She didn’t kick the wheel well of the vehicle because then she’d have to add any damage she inflicted to the estimate the mechanic presented on the hood. The hood and the tires being pretty much the only things that didn’t need replacing.
Lesson learned—don’t put off maintenance over and over again. Oil changes are actually important to vehicle longevity.
“How about a patch instead?” she asked, eyeing the bottom line of the estimate one more time, then glancing away. At that price, she should buy a new car. But she had just committed to stunt camp.
Being an adult sucked.
“Just to get me through for a bit,” she added.
“Molly, I think it really died,” Gavin said under his breath.
She shushed him.
The guy sold toaster tarts—he’d probably never owned a used car in his life. Also, he wasn’t a mechanic. Thus, he didn’t know what car death looked like.
If she ever needed to know what toaster tart death looked like? He’d be her go-to guy.
“Something just to get us through until it really dies?” She gave Gavin a death look she hoped he understood.
He said nothing, so maybe her point got through.
The mechanic guy—nice, good-looking guy with a huge…estimate—gave her an eesh look. “You could replace
the battery. Patch up the leak. But I don’t know how long that would buy you.”
“What kind of timeframe would we be looking at?” Hours. Days. Months. Years?
He scratched at his temple. “Could get you a week.
Could get you through the summer.”
Through the summer sounded great. She could save up, acquire some new sponsors, a few extra speaking engagements. Yes. They should do that one.
“What would that cost?” she asked.
He scribbled on the paper while she watched the number go down dramatically to one that didn’t make her want to hit the liquor store on the way home.
“I like that number.” She pointed to the number. “Let’s do that one.”
Mechanic guy scowled. “I can’t guarantee the work on a patch like this. You could be back here next week.”
“Or August.” She did little jazz hands because she was Molly.
He gave her a grin. Actually, he was kinda cute. Not Gavin handsome, but cute.
Gavin cleared his throat and nudged her arm. “Can I talk to you?”
“No.” She shook her head. Waved him away. “I’m negotiating.”
“Look, ma’am…” Mechanic guy said.
