Maisie abandons her mother and runs to me. I catch her, swinging her up in a circle.
“Hey, Munchkin. Keeping your mom out of trouble?”
“Yeah. It was the tire!” Maisie says loudly. “It popped! Pop!”
Amber walks over, shaking her head. “She’s very dramatic. It wasn’t a pop. Just a slow leak.”
“A slow leak is still a leak,” I say, setting Maisie down. “Let’s look at the damage.”
It’s a screw, just like she thought. Embedded right in the sidewall. I shake my head. “Rough break, Sunshine.”
“I know. I’m just glad I wasn’t on the highway.”
I get to work. The jack makes the car groan, but I have her up and ready in under fifteen minutes. I torque the lug nuts by hand, not trusting my impact gun with her watching.
“Can I help?” Maisie asks, standing right in my blind spot.
“Best spot for the supervisor,” I tell her. “Make sure nobody steals my tires.”
She nods seriously, taking the job to heart.
When I’m done, I lower the car. Amber hands me a paper bag.
“Peace offering,” she says. “Dark chocolate. With sea salt.”
“Acceptable.”
“Thank you, Fallon. Seriously. You saved my night.”
“Anytime.”
“We’ll follow you back?” she asks.
“Lead the way. I’ll bring up the rear.”
We drive back to the warehouse in a little convoy. Parking in the back lot feels different this time. Usually, it’s just work. Today, it feels like bringing family home.
We enter through the back door. The kitchen smells of garlic and onions—a good, heavy home scent.
Knox is at the stove, stirring a massive pot of sauce, and Eli is tossing a salad with focused precision. They look up when we walk in.
Knox freezes, wiping his hands on his apron. Eli stops tossing, a bright smile breaking out immediately.
Amber steps forward, her hand resting on Maisie’s shoulder. “Knox, I want you to officially meet Maisie. Maisie, this is Knox and, you remember Eli? They make the best food in the world.”
Maisie stares up at them. Knox is big, and looks a little grumpy, but Maisie doesn’t flinch. She steps forward and extends a small hand.
Knox crouches down immediately, getting to her level. He takes her hand, but instead of shaking it, he holds it gently.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he says, his voice dropping an octave, his accent thickening on the vowels. “It’s good to meet you,finalement. I’m Knox. Your mother tells me you’re very smart. And you know about gnomes.”
Maisie giggles. “They don’t eat socks. That’s just a story.”
“Bien sûr,” Knox says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Good to know. I prefer facts as well. Welcome to my kitchen.”
Eli steps up next, crouching down on one knee beside Knox. “Hey, Maisie.”
“Hi,” Maisie says, grinning. “We brought chocolate!” She holds up the bag like a trophy.
