Page 23 of Suits and Spark Plugs

“It’s a good rule. Statistically speaking, I’m twice as efficient working alone. Besides, I can’t pay you back for fixing my car if you’re helping me do the job. It’s simple math,” I replied without heat.

“Fair enough.” He turned and walked out of the office. “But just so you know, it wasn’t your statistics that convinced me. It was the math,” he called over his shoulder. He reached the front door at the same time I stepped out of the office. “I don’t like you being here alone cleaning this late, though. Make sure you lock the door behind me.”

“It’s okay. I have a foolproof plan to foil any attackers,” I replied. He looked back at me with a question in his eyes. “If someone tries to carry me off into the woods, I’ll just go limp, you know, like toddlers do when they don’t want to do something. You’ve seen that, right?” He nodded. “Carrying dead weight is hard, even when it’s only a thirty-pound toddler. When a full-grown woman’s body plays dead, it’s not going to be easy to spirit away.”

“Your plan is to play dead?”

“Yep.”

“How about, just as an extra precaution, you also lock the door behind me?” He was trying not to laugh, and for some reason it made a grin pop out on my own face.

“Fine. Scaredy-cat,” I replied.

He said nothing more, just shook his head and left the building. I locked the door as promised and watched as his truck pulled out of the parking lot, fading into the darkness.

* * * * *

Two days later I was working the dinner shift. Blaine was sitting at the counter, and I’d been genuinely happy to see him enter the diner. He was wearing a navy blue suit and a pink tie. He was lean and the suit was tailored in a way that added to his allure. Unfortunately, he wasn’t terribly happy with me at the moment. The feeling had become mutual, as I wasn’t happy with him thinking he got a say in my choices. But I was trying really hard to play it cool. So, yeah, it wasn’t going well.

“Wait, so to be clear, you’re cleaning a mechanic shop after hours?” he asked for at least the third time when I walked past him. I nodded. “I thought you were working out a payment plan.”

“This is the payment plan,” I called over my shoulder as I walked back toward the kitchen.

His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not sure I like it.”

When I returned from handing in my orders I paused in front of him, still holding an order pad in my hands. “You wanted me to get my car fixed.”

“Sure, but I didn’t want you to end up slaved out to a sketchy mechanic.”

A surprised laugh burst out. “When I told you he was sketchy, you told me he seemed like a great guy.”

“Well, that was when I wanted you to trust him to fix your car.”

“You got what you wanted,” I reminded him. “He did a great job fixing my car. It runs better than it has in a long time.”

“Just from new brakes and an alternator?”

I shrugged. “I guess. He’d have told me if he did anything else, and he didn’t mention anything.”

“What about that knocking sound?”

“Gone.”

“Huh. Wonder what it was?”

“I have zero idea.” I walked around the counter to the hostess station where a group of four was waiting to be seated. I could see Blaine tapping his fingers on the top of the bar while he waited for my return.

When I did come back, he was ready for me. “Are you safe there alone at night? Does he come back and bother you?”

“Come on, Blaine, that’s not even worth asking.”

“You said he had a bad reputation.”

“I’m not his type at all,” I shot back as I once more walked away.

“You’re every guy’s type, Olivia,” he called after me.

His remark made a few of the regulars—old men drinking coffee and eating fries—clap and whistle. It was harmless, but it made me blush. I looked back to Blaine, who had an apologetic look on his face. He too seemed to have some extra color, and it made the light blue of his eyes pop behind his glasses.

---