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“Get the fuck out you piece of shit.” I tell him with hate, but low enough not to draw any attention to the situation from any of the guys out in the shop.
Lee drops his cigarette to the floor and smudges it out with his boot.
“Come on now, that’s no way to talk to a customer. I may be shopping around for a bike.”
He starts walking around, looking at magazines and flipping through pages when his phone rings.
“You’d have to have a job and money to do that,” I say crossing my arms and glaring at him.
I can’t hear what he is saying on the phone because it’s in hushed tones, but whoever it is has wiped that smugness right off his face.
Quickly hanging up, he shoves his phone into his back pocket and walks out without another word.
I breathe out a sigh of relief as soon as he’s gone.
I’m thankful that he left, but it just adds to all the other shit that’s been going on lately. He’s been gone from the house more than usual, which I’m not going to complain about. Still, something isn’t right. I’m not sure what, but my gut is telling me something is up.
I shake all those thoughts off and finish the orders I started before breaking for lunch. I walk to the entrance and flip the lock and insert the sign that points to the bay doors in case an actual customer shows up.
I’m hungry since breakfast consisted of nothing but coffee this morning. After taking my sister to school I didn’t have time to stop for anything else. She has exams this week and can’t be tardy. She has a great shot at graduating with honors and I’ll make damn sure nothing screws that up for her.
I’m walking through the door leading to the garage on my way to the break room with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on my mind, when I hear Quinn holler out from over near the third bay door, where he’s airbrushing graphics onto a gas tank.
“Hey, Bella. What do the mafia and pussies have in common?”
I smile and hang my head because I know another dirty, inappropriate joke is about to come out of his mouth. I love that about him. Quinn is one of a kind.
“I don’t know, Quinn. What do they have in common?”
“One slip of the tongue and you’re in deep shit!” he says with the biggest grin, laughing at himself.
I laugh, “Quinn, that’s nasty!”
He shrugs his shoulder continuing with his work. He doesn’t know it, but he just helped lift my mood.
“Quinn, I’m heading to the break room to make a sandwich. You want something while I’m in there?” I ask as I finish making my way across the garage.
“Hell yeah! Can you make one of those grilled sandwiches you made for everyone the other day? That shit was good.”
I had brought stuff to make Reuben sandwiches to show them my thanks. I love to cook. It helps to calm my nerves when my anxiety gets the best of me. They’ve all been great to me ever since I started, and Alba shows up often after school and nobody complains about her hanging around. So, she and I cooked for them before closing last week.
You would have thought those men had never eaten before by the way they devoured their food. They definitely like to eat.
Logan was here that day.
I was in the break room slicing the bread, while Alba was mixing up the sauce when he walks in to grab a drink from the fridge.
“Smells good,” he says.
I looked over at him and couldn’t help but smile. The deep tenderness of his voice gives me butterflies in my stomach.
“My sister and I are making Reubens for everyone. Even made enough to run across the street to Gabriel. Just my way of saying I appreciate this job and the MC.”
He’s standing there, looking at me. I start to feel flushed from his intense stare.
Alba walks up and hands me the sauce, making me break eye contact with him.
Logan stands, holding his bottle of water, with one of those cocky smiles of his.
