Shaking off the negative thoughts, I get behind the wheel of my car and turn the key. There's a clicking sound. I turn the key again. Nothing.
This is not happening. Come on.
Spending the day stranded in the middle of town wasn't exactly my grand plan. I have roadside assistance but the last time I used it, it took forever. I glance across the street at the diner. Miss Doris might know someone who could tow me faster. Then for some reason my thoughts go to Gabe. Didn't he say that he owned an auto shop with his brother?
No, no, no. You are not calling him.
My resolve where he's concerned is already shaky at best and there's no way that I can keep my reserve around him if we keep getting thrown together. But when I pull out my phone to find the contact information for roadside assistance, my fingers end up doing a search for Gabe Marshall. G&Z Motors is the top search result.
Maybe this is a sign. A sign that I need to go after what I want. I snort. I’m not even sure what I want, other than to figure out how to get my club open on schedule. And to see Gabe again. I ignore the traitorous voice of reason and before I can think about it too hard, I dial the number.
"Hi, I need to get a tow truck."
* * * * *
The man who arrives to tow my car isn't Gabe or Zack. He's a small, wiry guy who introduces himself as Jim. I climb up into the cab of the truck while he scurries around the back attaching things and then I hear the motor as my car is lifted onto the bed. Then he's back in the driver's seat and we're off.
I twist my hands in my lap, wondering what the hell I was thinking. Gabe is going to know that I'm there deliberately to see him because I could have easily called a tow truck in New Haven. My nervousness only increases as we cross the city lines into West Haven. I'm not as familiar with this part of the county but it seems a little more rustic, with lots of tall, hanging trees and lots of farmland.
Finally we pull into an asphalt parking lot in front of a shop. At the sight of the huge G&Z Motors sign hanging over the door, my pulse picks up. Down girl. I'm not sure why my traitorous body is reacting this way. For all I know Gabe isn't even here. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. This has the potential to be really embarrassing.
"You can go inside, Miss. I'll get your car down and get it into one of the bays." Jim hooks a thumb toward the side of the building where there are what look to be several huge garage doors.
"Okay, thanks." I push open the door of the big truck and climb down carefully. The truck rumbles behind me as it pulls around the side of the building. When I push open the front door, a bell tinkles softly overhead.
Straight ahead there's a long black desk with a computer. A small stack of tires sits next to it. There's a man hunched over, typing painstakingly one key at a time.
At the sound of the bell, he looks up. "Can I help you?"
It’s Zack. His tattoos are covered by the long sleeves of the blue coveralls he's wearing, but that hair is unmistakable. As I get closer, he pauses and then snaps his fingers.
"Hey, I remember you. Last night at Finn's party. You're the one Jim towed in?"
"Yeah. I'm Sasha."
He comes around the counter. "I remember. Zack."
I shake the hand he holds out and try to look around without being obvious. Would it be weird if I ask if Gabe's around? Maybe if I don't say anything I can just pay for him to fix the car and get out of here before Gabe even knows I'm here.
The bell over the door tinkles and I freeze then glance over my shoulder. A young blond guy walks in and waves at Zack. I let out a breath.
"He's not here. You can relax."
I look over at Zack innocently. "Who?"
He snorts. "I know when a woman is looking for my brother. Not sure why all the girls go for that preppy look."
At his disgruntled look, I can't help but laugh. "Well, some of us like bad boys." Despite all the tattoos and the spikes in his hair, he comes across as cute instead of scary.
His eyes twinkle. "So what happened to your car?"
"I'm not exactly sure. It just wouldn't start. It's old so I guess it's finally breathed its last. Luckily it happened after I finished lunch at least."
He smiles. "Small favors. Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up. It'll probably take a few days depending on what's wrong though."
A few days? It finally hits me that my car has just broken down. The money from my new gig has kept me current on the rent but there's no way I can afford major repairs on my car.
"Breathe. It's going to be okay." Zack takes my arm and leads me to the counter. "Let's get you logged into the system and I'll go back there and take a quick look. It might not be a big deal."
His calm, confident manner is soothing. I follow and lean against the counter, looking around while he logs onto the computer.
It's much cleaner than I was expecting. Not that I spend a lot of time in auto shops but I definitely had a different mental image. This place is wide open and modern looking. Everything is either white, black or chrome and it smells only faintly of rubber. There's a man sitting in the waiting area watching the television mounted on the wall. He coughs, a wet, rattling sound. I shudder and look back at Zack.
He hands over a form and a pen. "Fill these out and then we can get started."
After I scrawl my name, address and the make and model of my car, he takes the form back. "So, tell me. How does a nice girl like you end up mixed up with my brother?"
This is not happening. Come on.
Spending the day stranded in the middle of town wasn't exactly my grand plan. I have roadside assistance but the last time I used it, it took forever. I glance across the street at the diner. Miss Doris might know someone who could tow me faster. Then for some reason my thoughts go to Gabe. Didn't he say that he owned an auto shop with his brother?
No, no, no. You are not calling him.
My resolve where he's concerned is already shaky at best and there's no way that I can keep my reserve around him if we keep getting thrown together. But when I pull out my phone to find the contact information for roadside assistance, my fingers end up doing a search for Gabe Marshall. G&Z Motors is the top search result.
Maybe this is a sign. A sign that I need to go after what I want. I snort. I’m not even sure what I want, other than to figure out how to get my club open on schedule. And to see Gabe again. I ignore the traitorous voice of reason and before I can think about it too hard, I dial the number.
"Hi, I need to get a tow truck."
* * * * *
The man who arrives to tow my car isn't Gabe or Zack. He's a small, wiry guy who introduces himself as Jim. I climb up into the cab of the truck while he scurries around the back attaching things and then I hear the motor as my car is lifted onto the bed. Then he's back in the driver's seat and we're off.
I twist my hands in my lap, wondering what the hell I was thinking. Gabe is going to know that I'm there deliberately to see him because I could have easily called a tow truck in New Haven. My nervousness only increases as we cross the city lines into West Haven. I'm not as familiar with this part of the county but it seems a little more rustic, with lots of tall, hanging trees and lots of farmland.
Finally we pull into an asphalt parking lot in front of a shop. At the sight of the huge G&Z Motors sign hanging over the door, my pulse picks up. Down girl. I'm not sure why my traitorous body is reacting this way. For all I know Gabe isn't even here. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. This has the potential to be really embarrassing.
"You can go inside, Miss. I'll get your car down and get it into one of the bays." Jim hooks a thumb toward the side of the building where there are what look to be several huge garage doors.
"Okay, thanks." I push open the door of the big truck and climb down carefully. The truck rumbles behind me as it pulls around the side of the building. When I push open the front door, a bell tinkles softly overhead.
Straight ahead there's a long black desk with a computer. A small stack of tires sits next to it. There's a man hunched over, typing painstakingly one key at a time.
At the sound of the bell, he looks up. "Can I help you?"
It’s Zack. His tattoos are covered by the long sleeves of the blue coveralls he's wearing, but that hair is unmistakable. As I get closer, he pauses and then snaps his fingers.
"Hey, I remember you. Last night at Finn's party. You're the one Jim towed in?"
"Yeah. I'm Sasha."
He comes around the counter. "I remember. Zack."
I shake the hand he holds out and try to look around without being obvious. Would it be weird if I ask if Gabe's around? Maybe if I don't say anything I can just pay for him to fix the car and get out of here before Gabe even knows I'm here.
The bell over the door tinkles and I freeze then glance over my shoulder. A young blond guy walks in and waves at Zack. I let out a breath.
"He's not here. You can relax."
I look over at Zack innocently. "Who?"
He snorts. "I know when a woman is looking for my brother. Not sure why all the girls go for that preppy look."
At his disgruntled look, I can't help but laugh. "Well, some of us like bad boys." Despite all the tattoos and the spikes in his hair, he comes across as cute instead of scary.
His eyes twinkle. "So what happened to your car?"
"I'm not exactly sure. It just wouldn't start. It's old so I guess it's finally breathed its last. Luckily it happened after I finished lunch at least."
He smiles. "Small favors. Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up. It'll probably take a few days depending on what's wrong though."
A few days? It finally hits me that my car has just broken down. The money from my new gig has kept me current on the rent but there's no way I can afford major repairs on my car.
"Breathe. It's going to be okay." Zack takes my arm and leads me to the counter. "Let's get you logged into the system and I'll go back there and take a quick look. It might not be a big deal."
His calm, confident manner is soothing. I follow and lean against the counter, looking around while he logs onto the computer.
It's much cleaner than I was expecting. Not that I spend a lot of time in auto shops but I definitely had a different mental image. This place is wide open and modern looking. Everything is either white, black or chrome and it smells only faintly of rubber. There's a man sitting in the waiting area watching the television mounted on the wall. He coughs, a wet, rattling sound. I shudder and look back at Zack.
He hands over a form and a pen. "Fill these out and then we can get started."
After I scrawl my name, address and the make and model of my car, he takes the form back. "So, tell me. How does a nice girl like you end up mixed up with my brother?"
