Page 7 of Secretary Crush
“Yeah, I saw him at the bar and grill earlier having dinner,” Gage says, picking up his coffee cup and taking a sip.
“I really hope I do a good job tomorrow. I’m so nervous. I just don’t want to let him down or make him mad at you for vouching for me.”
He waves his hand through the air. “He’s a nice guy, and he isn’t expecting you to walk in tomorrow and know what to do. You’ll be trained, I’m sure. He’s a good boss, and he’s been running this shop in town for many, many years. He didn’t get this established by not training his employees.”
I nod. “It’s going to be so weird being the only woman there. I hope his wife or girlfriend doesn’t get jealous.”
His brows lift. “Oh, no. He’s single.”
“He is?” I ask, surprised.
He nods. “Yeah, I guess they broke up around six months ago. That’s why the office is in such bad shape. His ex was the one running it. When she left, there wasn’t anyone to keep things going, and everything fell apart. I haven’t seen it, so I don’t know how bad it is, but he’s told me, so I can only imagine.”
I nod. “It’s pretty bad. It’s probably going to take me the week just to get things in order to actually work comfortably in there,” I tell him.
* * *
My alarm goes offfirst thing in the morning, and my eyes fly open. I’m wide awake and full of excitement, ready to start my new job. I don’t bother with taking a shower like I normally would. What’s the point when I’m going to be in a hot, dirty garage all day? The office area is separate from the actual garage, but none of it has air-conditioning. Maybe I can bring in a window unit or something down the line.
I pull on a pair of cutoffs, throw on a white tank top, and then slide my feet into my favorite black Chuck Taylor sneakers. In the bathroom, I pull my long, dark hair up into a high ponytail, and then I add just a touch of makeup so I don’t look dead. I don’t do a whole face, knowing that I’ll sweat most of it off. I stick to covering up the dark circles under my eyes and some mascara. I contour my cheekbones and then add some gloss to my lips. I skip the highlight, knowing that I’ll be plenty shiny by the end of the day.
When I’m happy with my appearance, I head to the kitchen, where I make a cup of coffee and eat the last slice of coffee cake for breakfast. I usually try to eat something a little more healthy, but I don’t want the cake to get stale and go to waste. I watch a little of the morning news while I eat, and when I finish, I shut everything off for the day and head out. I make it to the garage a little while later.
To my surprise, the place is already open and bustling full of life when I walk in. All the bay doors are open, and big fans are pushed out to the openings, one drawing cool air in while another is pulling hot air out. As I head toward the doors, I can hear all the guys inside as they talk, laugh, and give one another shit. I step inside, and the place goes quiet as they all look at me like deer in the headlights.
Awkward.
I offer them a smile and show them my palms. “Don’t stop having fun on my account,” I tell them, but nobody moves. “Seriously, you don’t have to change anything just because I started working here. I’ve heard dirty jokes before,” I tell them as I turn and head to the office.
The garage and office are separated with windows, and I can see Hudson on the other side. When I walk in, I find that he’s already cleaned off two chairs at the desk for us and started a pot of coffee. He looks at me with a nervous smile. “I did what I could,” he says with a shrug.
I laugh. “It’s fine. That’s why I’m here, right?” I set my purse on the stack of files sitting on the corner of the desk.
He has a seat at the desk in front of the computer. “There are a few things I need to show you before I can get out of your hair. Most of the day, you’ll be dealing with keeping this place tidy, answering the phones, and stuff like that, but there are two other parts of this job that you absolutely have to know. One is how to order parts.” While he clicks around on the computer, I have a seat next to him and lean in to better see the screen.
“Throughout the day, the guys will be bringing you in parts lists. It will have all the info you need to know. You just put it into this search bar, click the right one, and order it. Don’t wait until the end of the day to order everything all at once. That will put a hold on the work they can do out there. We will have twenty deliveries a day, and that’s okay. We need these parts as soon as possible.”
I nod. “And is there ever a time when this website doesn’t have a part we need?”
His brows lift like he’s surprised by my question. “Sometimes, but it’s rare. It usually only happens with an old, unique bike. In those cases, let me know, and we’ll go through all the other steps. I have several places I look for those parts. Vintage dealers, online used shops, and junkyards as a last resort.” He looks over at me. “The other thing is how to submit a claim into insurance so we can get paid.” He clicks around on the screen, and I burn every step into my memory, not wanting to have to be told twice how to do something.
When he’s done showing me how to do things on the computer, he leaves me alone to start his work for the day. That’s when I get started on mine. I pour a cup of coffee first and take a sip as I look around the office, trying to decide where to begin. That’s when I decide to start at one end and work my way to the other.
In the bathroom, I scrub the toilet, floor, and sink. I dust the table off and stack up the toilet paper that took me twenty minutes to find. I clean the mirror, dust the walls and ceiling, and then spray some air freshener that I leave on the back of the tank for easy access. Lastly, I refill the soap dispenser and paper towel holder. Stepping back, it doesn’t even look—or smell—like the same bathroom. I guess Hudson wasn’t lying when he said to keep the guys out of it, or they’ll trash it.
When I finish the bathroom, I wash my hands and step into the office. I start picking things up and setting them into piles. The big desk looks to be built to fit this space. It’s a U-shaped desk, and the portion along the back wall has shelving littered with knick-knacks, framed photos, awards, licenses, and books. I take everything off the shelves, dust it all, and put it back in a much more orderly fashion. I then clean off the entire desk, taking files and putting them into piles to organize later. On the floor, I have a stack of things to file, a stack of things to pitch, and a stack of things I need to ask about. When the top of the desk is clean, I dust it and start setting up the framed photos of Hudson with bikes and people who I assume were customers. I also find one that looks to be laid facedown on the desk. It quickly got covered up with trash and files. When I pick it up, I see Hudson with the same busty blonde I saw on his social media page. The only difference is that they’re both much, much younger in this picture. Teens or early twenties probably.
I dust off the picture and put it on the shelf behind the desk, not knowing what else to do with it. I know I don’t want it sitting on the desk I have to work at. When the top is cleaned off, I move on to emptying drawers. I remove the drawer, empty it onto the desk, then I start going through things. The door opens, and Hudson sticks his head in.
“I know you’re hard at work, but it’s lunchtime. Go take a break.”
I look at my watch. “Oh, wow. I totally lost track of time,” I say, standing up and leaving the mess on the desk.
He walks in and looks at the desk. “Wow, you’re really making a dent.” He laughs. “It feels like I haven’t seen these pictures in years.” He crosses his arms over his chest as I watch him take in picture after picture. When he comes to the one with the blonde on his lap, his smile falls. “Where’d you find this one?” he asks, reaching out and picking it up.
“It was buried under a bunch of junk on the desk,” I tell him, crossing my arms.
He looks at it, nods, and then turns and hands it to me. “Find someplace to hide it.”
