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I shrugged. “Okay. I guess.”
“We’re here for you. Don’t forget that.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling my throat close up at his sincerity.
Colt walked me to the chair next to Boxer and gestured for me to take a seat. “You’re going to learn the programs.”
“Programs?”
“Our bookkeeping programs for the shop. Boxer will show you how to order parts, schedule appointments, stuff like that.”
“Phone girl?” I asked with a smile.
“Phone girl,” he repeated with a nod. “Spend a few hours learning the ropes. After you finish up, we’ll head home.”
Home.
With Colt.
Colt left me alone with Boxer who was looking at me with a wide, knowing grin. “Stop that,” I commanded and gestured to the computer. “Show me your stuff.”
“You want to see my stuff?” he asked, all flirty and scruffy and hot.
“Show me your spreadsheets,” I demanded in a husky tone.
Boxer laughed. “A woman who saves me from looking at numbers all day. My kind of woman.”
The programs were intuitive. Before I knew it, Boxer and I had switched chairs and I was taking the reins. Customers called and after listening to Boxer field them, he let me take the next few.
A few hours later, he stood up and stretched. “You think you can man the phones alone? I have to run out and take care of something.”
“Uh, sure,” I said.
“Reap is in the garage, so if you run into trouble or have questions, you can ask him.”
“Okay.”
Boxer left the office, the door clicking shut. I got up to stretch my legs and make myself a cup of coffee. I was just stirring in some cream when the phone rang. I retook my seat and reached for the receiver.
“Good afternoon, Charlie’s Motorcycle Repair.”
“Darlin’,” the voice on the other end greeted.
A shiver of fear worked its way down my spine.
“Dev,” I replied, my voice sounding rusty.
“You’ve been bad, Mia,” Dev chastised.
I swallowed a gulp of scalding coffee to coat my suddenly dry throat.
“Why’d you run to the Blue Angels? Are you scared of me? Is that it?”
My heart thundered in my chest and my palms grew slick with sweat as I gripped the phone. I forced out a fake laugh. “No, you don’t scare me.”
“You don’t want to end up like Richie, do you?”
“No.” I felt faint, sick. “But I’m not involved in whatever Richie was involved in. I swear it. I know nothing.”
