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There was something about her simple act of courtesy that shamed me. I doubted I’d ever be able to use a restroom again without buying something.
When we got back to the mechanic’s, it was open. “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” I said, parking in an open space near her car.
I told the kid behind the counter why I was there and that “my girlfriend” and I had had a miscommunication the day before. She didn’t realize I’d already purchased a new battery when she had the car towed.
“You want us to put that in for you?” he asked.
“I can do it, since I didn’t purchase it from you.”
“Have at it,” he said, handing me the keys.
There were at least five things wrong with what the kid had just done, but rather than lecture him, I took care of Ali’s car. The sooner we were on our way and this was behind us, the better.
As I’d predicted, after I put the new battery in, the car started up just fine. I closed the hood and walked over to her window when she rolled it down.
“Oh, no!” she gasped.
“What?”
“Your shirt!”
I looked down and saw a big black slash of grease on my crisp white dress shirt. “Not a big deal. I’ve got my jacket.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
My imagination could conjure up all kinds of stuff Miss Ali could do for me. None of them had anything to do with my shirt…unless it involved removing it. “I’ll tell you what you can do. Climb out. I’m going to drive your car and make sure it’s running okay. You can take mine.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can figure out whether my car is running okay or not, Cope.”
“Humor me. Consider it atoning for my ruined shirt.”
She sighed, but she got out, and I handed her my keys.
“Don’t forget your pie,” I said, motioning to the box she’d left on the front seat after grabbing her bag.
“Actually, I got it for you since I wouldn’t let you have any more baklava last night.”
She was so damn cute I wanted to take her lips instead—they had to be sweeter than any dessert I’d ever tasted.
“I’ll see you over there.”
“Cope, wait.”
“Yeah?” I said before climbing into her car.
“Thank you for doing this for me. I want you to let me reimburse you for the battery and the shirt.”
I wouldn’t tell her that my shirt was a gift from my mother, that it was monogrammed, or that it cost five-times what the battery did. “Tell you what, instead of reimbursing me, walk over to where that bike sits near your window and give it a go.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Why is that so important to you?”
“I don’t know. It just is.”
When Ali shook her head and got in my car, I backed hers up and pulled out of the lot.
7
ALI
