He spit again. “Oh come on, Olive. It ain’t hurting nobody.”
“Your gums, teeth, and gut might have something different to say about that.”
Otis grunted from his large bed behind my chair. “See, even the dog agrees.” Patting my leg, I called my giant pup over to me. With a heave and a yawn, Otis moseyed over to me. For a guard dog, he was one lazy son-of-a-bitch when he wanted to be. He rested his oversized head on my thigh, and I scratched behind his cropped ear, making my big oaf of a dog melt like butter in my hand.
“Hello?” I heard someone call, and Otis started to growl.
“Hush, boy,” I whispered as Shaw went to greet the customer.
I pulled Otis’ Kong out of my desk drawer and tossed it to him before following Shaw into the bay.
“How can we help you, sir?” Shaw asked the older man who was glancing around the shop.
“I was told that Mic’s garage was the best shop in town, so here I am.”
I walked up to shake his hand. “You heard right. What can we do for you?”
“Where’s Mic?” the man asked, glancing from Shaw to me uneasily.
“Mic was my father.” I pointed to a picture of my dad and me working on a ’67 Shelby that was hanging not too far from us. “I’m Olive, and I run the place now. What seems to be the problem?”
With reluctance coating his features, the older man rubbed the back of his neck. “All right, then. I was passing through town on my way into the city when my car started sputtering on the highway. I was able to get to the gas station right off the exit before she completely shut down on me, and the tow truck driver suggested I bring it here.”
I glanced past the guy to see Larry unhitching the beat-up white sedan from his truck. “Thanks, Lar!” I called out. Larry Baxter was a friend from high school and had had the hots for me for far too long. I appreciated the referrals, but I didn’t know how I could convince him I didn’t want anything to do with his pit stains, potbelly, or awful breath.
“Don’t mention it, Liv! See ya later!”
“Shaw, why don’t you go check out this gentleman’s car while I call him a cab to take him up to Pete’s diner?”
“Aye, boss.” Shaw trotted over to the car with a clipboard at the ready.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name sir.” I started to usher him into the office.
“Henry Peeler.”
“It’s a pleasure Henry. Everyone calls me Liv.” I smiled as sweetly as I could.
We shook hands again. “Nice to meet you, young lady.”
“Henry, tell me, do you like milkshakes?”
He nodded.
“Well, Pete’s has the best damn strawberry milkshake in the whole area. My treat. I’ll have a car come get you and Pete will just put your order on my tab. How does that sound? You can relax, read the paper, or catch up on some phone calls while you enjoy a nice cold shake.”
“That does sound nice.” He finally started to smile.
After shipping Henry off to the diner up the road, I got the rundown from Shaw.
“I think it’s a fuse,” he said, holding the diagnostic computer up for me to see the readings.
“I think we might actually have it in storage. Thank God!”
Shaw laughed. “Not trying to keep more skeptical customers around to harass us?”
I shook my head violently. “Did you see how he looked at us?”
“Like we were too young to be running this joint by ourselves?”
