Page 5 of Car Wash
I thought I’d swing by, say hello, write a check, and be gone in ten minutes.
Now I’m wondering if I should write a check big enough to shut this whole thing down right fucking now.
Chapter Three
Sarah
“Look alive!”Lacy yells as three cars pull into the lot, one after another. She uses that megaphone to coordinate where the cars should go. She’s giving strict crossing guard energy—one whistle away from pulling someone over.
She nudges me toward one of the cars, where a group of rowdy tech-bro types sit vaping.
“Close your window,” I say as the smoke drifts out. I cough and wave a hand in front of my face. The driver rolls his eyes and I get closer. “Do you want to keep the window down so I can dump a bucket of water in your lap?”
The guys laugh, and the driver rolls his window up.
I glance over at Lacy, wondering if she’d be so kind as to assign me to a different car, but she’s over there doing her thing and barking orders at people.
As I look at her, I spot my dad’s best friend on the sidelines.
He pulls out his wallet and walks to the lemonade stand. He takes one of those tiny paper cups and knocks it back in a single sip. His throat moves with the swallow, sharp and deliberate, and then—crack—the cup crumples in his fist. That single flex of his hand does something to me I’m not proud of.
He turns, strides back to his car, and leans against it like it’s his throne. Arms crossed. Sunglasses on.
He looks around and seems deep in thought, but it feels like he’s sort of… supervising this thing. I can’t tell if he’s scanning the crowd or just me.
He rotates his thick forearm, checking the time on his watch.
He’s probably got someplace better to be.
I finish up the vape-guys’ car and they pay before peeling away.
Lacy directs the next customer toward me. I work the sponge over the car, but my mind is hyper-aware of how I look. I don’t want to bend over to scrub the wheels and let my ass stick out into the air for everyone to see. I move over to the windshield and take a big gulp of air.
When I’m done, Jenny comes over with two cups and puts one in my hand. The lemonade, though watered-down and warm, feels good as the tart sweetness flows down my throat.
“I think I’m going to go talk to him,” she says brightly, tenting her fingers in front of her.
“Who?”
“Your dad’s friend,” she says. “Can you put in a good word for me?”
My heart sinks.
“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I know what she means.
“You know,” she says, biting her lip. She throws a tiny glance over her shoulder at John. I try not to look at him. “Maybe ask if he’d let me give him a really quick wash?”
I try not to look disappointed.
“Girl, you do not need me to put in a good word for you. Your perfect body and your beautiful eyes are worth a thousand words. You’re fucking hot. You’ll be good on your own. Trust me.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’m gonna do it.”
“Go,” I say, handing her a bucket. “And make sure you do a good job. Mama wants a reading nook.”
I give her two thumbs up, even though I wish it were me sauntering toward him instead.
Her lithe steps move with flirty grace, all petite and slender as she gets close to him. I can’t see his eyes through the dark sunglasses, but I can tell he doesn’t seem interested in her.
