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“It helps. I read in some fancy ass magazine that dyslexia can be helped with something like this. It’s supposed to make the words easier to read.”
He’d not stuck around, leaving her to watch after him.
“Earth to Autumn,” he said, waving a hand.
“I’m sorry. Are you sure it’s not too much trouble? I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“It’s no trouble. Come on. Bring her in, and I’ll get everything sorted.”
Driving into the lot, she followed his direction, and all the time she tried to tell herself why she should get the car picked up to go elsewhere.
What was the point taking her broken car anywhere else? Everywhere was shut, and it was a miracle Carter was open.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” she said, climbing out of the car.
“I own this place. I took it over from the original owner. It’s no problem. Cars have always been my thing.” He walked around the car. “Isn’t this Summer’s old car?”
Heat filled her cheeks.
“Yeah, it was given to me as an eighteenth birthday present. I just can’t bring myself to sell it. It’s not like she drove it, and when she doesn’t fall apart, she works like a dream.”
“When you have a sound engine, it’s impossible to get rid of something so good.” He nodded. “Come on, we’ll book her in.”
They entered his office, and she was aware of the small space, with the scent of car oils and Carter heady in the air.
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on being normal.
Don’t be a freak in front of him.
“When can you have it fixed by?” she asked.
“A couple of days.” He held his hand out, and she placed the keys in his palm.
I can do this.
Just act calm.
He took the keys flicking them in his palm, and he whistled.
She tried to look at everything around the small room other than him. He was clicking away at his computer.
“Did you graduate?” he asked.
“Yeah, I did. I actually work in this bakery, Too Tempting. Have you heard of it?”
“I have. I’ve not had the pleasure of tasting any of their fine food.”
She smiled. “You should come by. We have some great stuff.” Autumn cringed. Could she be any more obvious?
“Do you bake still?”
“That’s what I do. I bake. Hilary is an amazing boss. I love her.” Shut up.
“I remember you were good at it. All the cakes were what you created, right?”
“Yeah, they were.”
He sniggered. “I figured they weren’t Summer’s. She told me they were, but there’s no way she could bake. She couldn’t even toast bread.”
