Page 21 of Suits and Spark Plugs

He turned slowly to face me. “Wondering how many classes you’re taking.”

“I think we need to set up some ground rules about me working here.” I set the cleaning things on the reception desk and folded my arms across my chest.

His eyebrows raised. “Rules?”

“Yes, rules. Rule number one: we don’t discuss my private life, and we certainly do not discuss yours.”

“Afraid you’d be jealous of my exciting adventures?”

“No. Rule two: I’m dating someone.”

“That doesn’t seem like a rule as much as just information you’re sharing with me. It’s not really new info, though. I’ve met him, remember? Blaine. Nice guy. A little stiff, but he’d take good care of you if you’d let him.”

My jaw dropped. “If I’d let him? I don’t even—no, that goes back to rule one.”

“Suit yourself. Just my observation. Why does your dating need to be a rule?”

“You flirt with everyone,” I stated. He made a face. “You’re the one with the reputation, not me.”

“All malicious gossip. Are there any more of these rules?”

I nodded and held up my fingers, ticking off another. “Rule three: you should be gone when I come here to clean.”

Now he sounded a tad incredulous, his chatty confidence slipping. “You’re telling me when I’m allowed to be at my own shop?”

I sucked in a deep breath, knowing I sounded horrible, bossy, and rude. “Sorry. Can you please just go home and let me work?”’

“Fine. I’m going, but it’s only because I’m tired and ready to call it a day. Lock the door behind me. Oh, and fair warning, next time I see you, I may have a few of my own rules to add to the list.” He left through the front door, climbed into his truck, and drove out of the parking lot as I turned the deadbolt.

My estimation of how long it would take to clean proved correct. In twenty-five short minutes I had the lobby and bathroom sparkling. Even better, I owed fifty dollars less on my debt to the auto shop.

At home, things weren’t quite as sparkly and clean. In fact, it looked like I hadn’t cleaned in a week, when in reality I’d cleaned up that morning before my shift at Jake’s. Blankets were strewn around the family room, plates and cups from mom’s lunch and Sadie’s dinner were piled on the coffee and end tables, the TV was still blaring although no one was there, and magazines lay open on every surface. I dreaded entering the kitchen.

When I did flip on the kitchen light my heart sank. Only three people lived in this house, yet it looked like ten people had come in and made themselves dinner before walking away from it without eating. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

My cell phone ringing split the silence and I answered quickly. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe,” Blaine’s cheerful voice replied. “How was your day?”

“Pretty busy.” I thought about letting it go at that but remembered Kelly saying I didn’t let Blaine in. “Just getting home and it looks like I’ll need to clean the house. My mom and sister can be really messy.” It was the most I’d ever complained to him about anything.

“That’s too bad. That’s why I stopped having roommates. Maybe they just had a busy day and they’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, probably.”

No, they wouldn’t. They never did. Mom worked two jobs herself. Sadie was on the high school dance team and was always off with friends in the evenings either for rehearsals or hanging out. I did the chores. All of them. The groceries, the cleaning, the meals. I couldn’t remember how it started falling to me, but I knew why I let it continue. I did it for Mom because she needed someone she could depend on, and I loved her.

I listened to Blaine tell me about his day while I stacked dishes in the sink. His voice was comforting and helped the chores go faster. For the first time I allowed the idea into my head of working as a team. During the good years of my parents’ marriage they’d often worked together. The sounds of their chitchat and laughter had been the backdrop of my childhood. Maybe working with a partner—the right partner—would make things seem less like a burden. I’d have to give it some thought.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Music thumped through my bedroom floor hard enough that I could feel it on the soles of my feet as I jumped off my bed and stomped to the door. I walked far enough down the stairs to be able to see the living room. The smell of a lot of different fruity body sprays hit me, along with the sight of at least ten girls lounging around the room still wearing their athletic wear. They must have come straight from drill practice. The remnants of nachos were on plates laying here and there, the smell of the cheese adding another element to the situation. The girls were passing their phones around and laughing, although I had no idea how they could hear each other.

“Sadie, honestly, I have to study. Please, turn down the music,” I called as loudly as I could.

She didn’t even bother looking up at me as she yelled, “Stop being so old.” A chorus of giggles followed.

I wanted to hurl angry words back at the group of teens below, but instead I went into my room and slammed the door, hard. I couldn’t concentrate, which was a major problem seeing as I had a paper to write and needed to do some research first.

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