Page 3 of Ace of Spades

“Listen, I can appreciate the formalities, Miss. But there are a few things I need to check before we hire a foreman at SKC.”

“Um… o-kay,” I say, feeling my confidence slip.

He leans forward, opening a drawer and pushing the stack of papers into it, making the desktop clear, except for my resume.

“A bike won’t start. What’s the first thing you check?”

I blink.Is that all?

Squaring my shoulders, I say, “The battery. Kill switch. Fuel.”

Benji considers it with a grunt as he rubs his chin. “Good. Some folks start yanking a carb before even checking if there’s gas in the damn tank.”

“Ask me how I know,” I offer up a slight grin.

He doesn’t smile back.

“Ok, Ms. Foreman. A customer walks in wanting a full custom rebuild. Their budget’s two grand. Wants it done in a week, just in time for Daytona. What do you do?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He says, face as serious as can be.

Right.

“I tell them what two grand buys, because it’s not a full custom. And if they still want the dream for cheap, I recommend a reality check and maybe a shop that cuts corners. We don’t.”

“We, huh?”

“I’ve been wanting to work here my entire life, Mr. Morales.”

He gives me a swift once-over before checking the one paper left on the desk.

“One last question.”

One? Only one question will determine whether I get my dream job at SKC. I immediately feel my armpits prickle.

He looks me in the eyes, “Finish the sentence. Don’t trust the…”

What in the trick question?

“I–I…I don’t understand.”

“Ms. Riley,” he says calmly. “Don’t trust the blank.”

I’m officially panicking. Looking around trying to get a clue as to what the hell this man is talking about.

Meanwhile, Benji Morales, who looks like he might be Levi Steele’s right hand man watches me with all the patience in the world.

Don’t trust the… Don’t trust the…

Then it hits me. The note on the wall!

“The goat!” I nearly scream out. “Don’t trust the goat!”

Finally, Benji cracks a smile.

“What does it mean?” I ask him.