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She looks adorably put out, as if dealing with my mountains of paperwork doesn’t deserve special recognition.
“Somehow, I don’t even think it comes close to paying you back for all the help you’ve been to me over the last two days.”
I slip some cash into the little folder the check comes in and make sure there’s enough to cover the tip. I feel like the waitress ran some interference to keep Steve at bay since he only came over when she disappeared into the back.
After we get back to the garage, I show Lenore how our scheduling system works for customer appointments in case someone calls. I still have spare time before my next client, so I show her the inventory software and run the sales report for the last month.
“Feel free to poke around. I’m the first to admit I’m much better with the cars than computers, so I might not always be the best help.”
“Thanks.” She looks nervous. “Do your customers typically know what they’re looking for?”
“Like the name?” She nods. “Usually, but if they have any questions, just holler. Otherwise, I’ll show you how to search things by make and model so you know we’re getting the right thing if we have to order it.” I watch as she adds some notes to another sheet of paper labeled ‘register.’
“I took a peek at your list earlier and saw you wanted a lesson in the basics of car parts. Want to start with your car?”
“Are you sure you don’t have anything else you should be working on?”
Watching her carefully, trying to figure out what’s bothering her, I say, “Not for right now.”
She takes a deep breath. “Alright.”
Her face is not enthusiastic when I lead her into the garage. I keep the bay doors closed so it's just the two of us, and no one can barge in without warning. Pulling the code reader from the drawer, I show her how it works and let her run it on her car. It still shows the same emissions sensor codes I wrote in the file.
“Once we have the codes, it's usually pretty straightforward. Just enter the codes, and the computer figures out what's wrong.” I have her look them up and show her what to do with the parts information she finds. “This system is on your computer, too, if someone ever comes in with their codes already.”
If things ever got busy and someone came into the shop looking for help, she’d be able to at least get them the codes to figure out what’s going haywire.
She pulls the pen from my shirt pocket and makes some notes on her hand. With her this close, I can make out the fresh, summery clean scent of her shampoo and the fine hairs of her loose bangs.
“I have a notepad in there too.”
My voice sounds strangled with awareness of her.
“Bad habit.” She smiles and slides the pen back into my pocket, giving my chest a small pat. “If I don’t write it down when I think of it, I’ll forget.”
“If I did that, it was usually to sneak in notes for a test.”
She chuffs a laugh, and I’m glad to see she’s less nervous than earlier. “There are better methods for that, you know.”
“Are better test-taking strategies something you learned from your mom’s students?”
She snorts a laugh again. “You could say that.” She pauses, and some of the relaxation slips away from her. “How am I ever going to remember all this? I feel like it's all in a different language.”
In the time it takes me to gather my thoughts, she turns away and slips inside. Following, I snag her hand, pulling her around to face me. There’s a sheen of frustrated tears in her eyes. Before I can think about it, I pull her close and wrap my arms around her. She fits neatly under my chin and hugs her arms around my waist without hesitation. I squeeze tighter and let her relax against me before saying firmly, “You should have more faith in yourself. You’re doing great.”
She presses her forehead into me and keeps her face hidden. “Thank you.” She pulls back a little and sniffles. “I don’t think I hear that enough.”
I give her another squeeze before letting go. Even though we’ve just met, these moments make it feel like we’ve known each other much longer than two days. I’ve never been possessive before, but that’s almost the only word to describe how I feel. I want her to turn to me with her problems and rely on me when she needs something. It’s ridiculously fast, and I’ve complicated the situation by hiring her, but the more time I spend with her, the closer I come to throwing all the rules out the window.
When I hear my three o’clock pull up, I let her go.
“Is there anything you need me to do this afternoon?”
“Not that you don’t already have too much to do, but feel free to fill out all the employment paperwork. There should be a folder with forms somewhere in the office.”
She doesn’t look like she wants me to leave, so I linger by the door, listening as the next car pulls in and waits for me to move hers out of the way.
“Thank you for this afternoon.”
“It was my pleasure.” And I mean it. For once, I wasn’t worried about closing the shop for an hour, and talking with her has been an intoxicating combination of relaxing and invigorating.
She slides away, back into the shop. I pull her keys off the hook by my workstation, getting back to work and counting the hours until I can spend more uninterrupted time with her on the drive back to her place.
