AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And you don’t hear how judgmental you sound?”
“Those are all facts.”
“I’m not talking about the facts. I’m talking about the importance you place on material things when none of it makes you who you are.”
“Don’t get all high and mighty on me. You’re living in the same glasshouse.”
“No, I’m not. Maybe I enjoy the perks of being in my position—”
“Like your car,” I remind him.
“Yeah, like my car. But my dad was a mechanic, and my mom is still a schoolteacher. I bought a simple house in South Reno so I could be close to them, and I spend my weekends fixing up their house. Plus, my girlfriend is a hair stylist who lives with three other girls just to make rent.”
“I get it. You’re a better man than I am.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t care where you live or what you can afford. It’s how you interact with those not in your tax bracket. And clearly, the answer is you don’t because you think you’re better.”
“Casey’s a hairstylist?” I ask, realizing I never asked much about her, though I’ve met her a few times.
He gives me an incredulous look as he stands and buttons his suit coat. “Yeah.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to work.”
“But you didn’t give me any advice.”
He sighs. “My advice would be to take him on a date. Get to know who he is. Be a normal fucking human.”
He shuts the door behind him, leaving me with my thoughts. Which is apparently where I need to be right now.
* * *
A week later, I’m on the highway, passing the exit to the shop and thinking about Mustang the way I do every morning. I flip on the radio and startle at the loud pops that sound through my speaker.
“Damn it!” I pull over to the shoulder, mash all the buttons, and turn all the dials on the stereo, hoping something will shut it off. But nothing works. My ears ring, and I’m well on my way to permanent hearing loss, so I do the only thing I can think of. I flip a U-ey and turn off toward The Garage.
Once parked, I hop out of the truck and slam the door shut, twisting my fingers in my ears to stop the noise from echoing through my brain. If I could reach in there and shake it free from my brain, I would.
“Again?” Cy asks, wiping his hands on a rag as he approaches.
“The new fuse must’ve been defective.”
Cy opens the passenger door, and five seconds later, we’re in peaceful silence. I really need him to show me how to do that.
“Thanks,” I say when he rounds the truck.
He studies the little plastic thing with a curious look on his face. “You say Mustang changed it?”
“Yeah, why?”
In the blink of an eye, his perplexed expression is gone and in its place is a broad smile. “No problem. I’ll get this swapped out for you.”
What the hell was that about?
It’s already warm outside, so I step inside the office to find a smiling Tigger.
“Hey, you’re back!”
