Page 17 of Suits and Spark Plugs

He nodded slowly as though I’d just told him I was knitting a doily. “Ah. That would probably come in handy sometimes.”

“Indeed.” I put my phone back in my bag and zipped it closed. “Is my car ready?”

“Yep. Everything went well. Total is the nine hundred I quoted you.”

“Okay. What are your thoughts on a payment plan?”

“Are you going to school?” he asked.

“Yes. Online classes to prepare for nursing school.” I waited for him to nod and then redirected. “About my car?”

“Why nursing school?” he asked instead of answering my question.

“It’s a way out.” I shrugged and shook my head. “Anyhow, I can’t pay you more than fifty bucks a month. Is that going to be okay?

“A way out of what?”

I tilted my chin down and pinched my lips. I was not here to discuss my life, at all, with him. “Not answering that.”

“Fair enough,” he said casually. “I have an idea if you’re open to discussing other options for payment.”

My gut clenched and my face warmed. Here we go. He’d pulled the wool over Kelly’s eyes, but things were about to get real. “Depends on what ‘other options for payment’ you might have in mind.”

His brows lowered. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not going to pay off my debts by, like, kissing you and stuff.” My face burned, but I kept eye contact with him, knowing it was important to not back down.

“Liv Phelps, does your mother know what kind of thoughts go through that head of yours?” he asked with wide eyes that seemed oddly surprised for someone who I’d long suspected of having underhanded dealings.

The only sound in the lobby was that of my pounding heartbeats. I wasn’t sure what had just happened. I took a deep breath, playing the conversation back in my mind as I watched his expression turn stony. Maybe I’d jumped the gun here. This was his place of business, and regardless of what I thought, people seemed to think he ran a top-notch shop. Kelly said he was a cool guy. Oh man, I was an idiot.

My jaw tightened as pure humiliation poured over me from the top of my head to pool under my feet. I may not like him, but that foray back into childhood hadn’t done either of us any favors.

“So,” I cleared my throat and swallowed. “I may have jumped to conclusions.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not always like that.”

“That’s comforting,” he stated with a little more sarcasm than I deemed necessary.

I scrunched up my nose and fidgeted a bit. “Okay. I’m ready to talk about payment options.”

“I’m rethinking what I was going to offer,” he replied.

I remained silent, knowing that opening my mouth wasn’t going to help me. After a few more seconds of silence—where I accidentally got distracted by wondering what mix of orange, red, yellow, and brown I’d need to blend to get his exact hair color—he let out a big breath.

“Fine. Look, I’ve been needing to hire someone to come in once a week and clean the lobby and customer bathroom. That’s it. Me and my guys take care of the rest of the shop. The lobby needs dusting, vacuuming, and windows washed. The bathroom, well, normal bathroom cleaning. It’s probably a thirty-minute task, at most. When I priced it out, a maid service would charge fifty dollars a week for a small job like that. If you’re interested, you can take it and work until your debt is paid off.”

Well, that wasn’t what I’d expected. Pro: no money had to exchange hands, and I knew how to clean. Con: I would have to see Connor once a week after a lifetime of successful avoidance. Still...

“At once a week it would only take you about four and a half months to pay off, rather than the eighteen months if you paid me a monthly cash payment,” he added.

A retort hovered on my lips, defending my ability to do the math myself, but I slapped my mouth shut before it could escape. “It sounds more than fair, to me,” I said. “Too fair. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure that I’m tired of staying thirty minutes later on Saturdays to clean this space. It would be nice to have more weekend time free.”

“Would it need to be done on Saturdays?” I asked.

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