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My face heated as I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I was overreacting to his comment, but Gia’s words at the meeting kept flowing through my head. I needed him to understand. “Berta’s important to me.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m getting that.”
“I’d like to get her running again. Is it possible?” I tried to keep my voice level.
“I can get anything running again. The question is—is it worth it?” He shot me a heated look, and I wondered what he was talking about—Berta or me?
“I think she is. Can you help me?”
“That depends on your budget.”
I let out a long exhale, unsure how to answer. I didn’t have much cash available to sink into the repair cost, but I didn’t have a choice.
Jake braced a hand on Berta. “You need the van for sentimental reasons, but you can’t afford to fix her up.”
I winced at his accurate assumption. “I don’t know yet. You haven’t given me an estimate.”
“You want her in tip-top shape or just fix her up enough to drive her off the lot this time?”
I tipped my head to the side. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll need to make more trips to the garage, or I can completely restore her. Make her shine like new again.” Pride soaked into Jake’s voice as he patted the side of the van.
The thought of Berta being restored sounded amazing, and the passion I heard in his voice had my heart thumping. “Could you work up an estimate for both and let me know?”
Jake nodded as he pushed off the van. “You’re the boss.”
I liked to stay positive, and it was always possible that business would pick up. When I inherited the property and decided to open the store, I hadn’t known about the large taxes Grandma paid on her property. There wasn’t much cash left because she’d lived in a nursing home at the end.
I fidgeted with the strap of my cross-body purse. “If I decided to just fix her up quickly, how long would that take? I need her to make deliveries.”
“Listen, I can probably get her running within your budget, but even with a small fix, you can’t drive her as your primary vehicle. You can’t rely on her to make daily or even weekly deliveries.”
I stared at Berta, ignoring the heat of his gaze on the side of my face. My stomach churned at the news. “You said you would get me the estimate for both options. Then I could decide.”
Jake remained stubbornly silent. He’d answered all my questions and probably needed me to leave so he could get back to work. There was no point in dwelling on the negative. Smiling, I touched his forearm. “Besides, you never know. She might surprise you.”
I moved to leave when his hand wrapped around my wrist. My gaze was fixated on his larger hand encircling my slender wrist. Tan skin covering white. The heat of his palm wreaking havoc on my nervous system.
“Keep Berta parked in front of your store for novelty reasons. Customers can still get a look at her. Then you’re not left on the side of the road.”
“She’s all I have.” I gave him a look, one that hopefully told the story of how important she was to me. When his fingers uncurled from my wrist, my shoulders sagged with the weight of the truth—I couldn’t afford to buy a car, much less a proper refrigerated delivery van. “Thank you for your help. I’m looking forward to your call.”
I forced myself to walk away from him. I was a twenty-eight-year-old woman who didn’t own anything outright. The house, the farm, and the van had all been given to me. I had nothing to show for the first however many working years of my life. My heart felt like it was in a vice, one that kept tightening.
I pulled out my phone to find a driver, breathing in deeply to remind myself I was a competent woman who’d taken a risk opening a business. There weren’t many people who’d done what I did. It was something to be proud of. I could do it.
