Page 20 of Possessive Mechanic

“Keep your phone. No problem. Where we’re going no one will lay a hand on you,” he begins, before smirking. “I won’t need to, to get the effect I’m after.”

I swallow hard and a long moment passes as he holds out his hand in the direction he wants me to go.

Do I really have a choice? And how can I give up the possibility of getting the vote percentages I want and not sleep with him? That’s an offer I can’t refuse, but then again he hasn’t said at what price it will come.

He is the CFO after all. There’s always a price. Time to hear his offer.

Reluctantly I follow Ronny, past my car and to his garage. “Wait here,” he instructs, and as much as I want to tell him not to tell me what to do, I realize not going into his garage is the smarter move.

A brief wait later and he’s backing out, shutting the garage door and I step into his car, keeping my phone in my right hand, away from his side of the car. 9-1-1 is already dialed. All I need to do is hit the green button and the call will go through if he tries anything funny.

For the first few minutes, he tries absolutely nothing, which is a bit of a surprise in and of itself. After a few more minutes on the highway, he finally starts to show his cards.

“So…the mechanic. What’s the deal there?” he asks on an exhale before tapping the steering wheel with his fingers, clearly anticipating my response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s going on between the two of you?” he asks a second time, his tone starting to give away his annoyance.

“You were there today. You saw. He’s working on an engine for my dad,” I respond, keeping my eyes forward on the road so as to not give anything away.

“Your dad,” Ronny says quickly, causing me to fidget in my seat. “Not you.”

“The company does have my name.”

“Let’s cut the bull shit, Astrid. You’re barely out of high school. You have nothing to do with that company.”

“Not yet.”

“And it will stay that way if you don’t get the vote you need. I’m surprised I have to remind you of that. And one thing I won’t be doing again is asking you what’s going on between you and Axel because you’re going to fucking tell me right now.”

I’ve clearly found his pain point, but he’s found a tender spot with me as well. How much could he possibly know though? No way Axel is the type of guy to kiss and tell, not to mention I just can’t see alpha male Axel interested in having any sort of conversation with the disgusting man sitting to my left right now.

But if I withhold the information he already knows all he’s going to do is become angrier and know I’m not telling him what’s really going on. But why is he so obsessed with Axel all of a sudden?

“I’m waiting,” he reminds me, cascading his fingers over the steering wheel.

I breathe in deep and slowly let it out. “My car broke down the other day. I guided it off the road on an exit ramp right where Axel’s shop was. I didn’t even know who he was or his involvement with the company at the time. It was pure dumb luck.

“Luck?”

“Yeah?” I respond, my body stilling but my eyes move from left to right and back again.

“Your quarter of a million dollar car blows a gasket, or whatever, and you call it luck…not misfortune.”

“It’s an expression, Ronny,” I reply, adding a sharp exhale of frustration at the end to punctuate his childish game, trying to trap me in some minutia of what I’m saying.

“I bet you wouldn’t have said luck if you knew what I know about Axel.”

“Humor me. What do you know about him?” I challenge, crossing my hands over my chest.

“You know he was in prison, right? Not jail. Prison.”

I say nothing, just keep looking forward…annoyed. I feel like two kids are gossiping about someone in school here. I thought leaving high school would rid me of that nonsense, but apparently, it affects all levels of humanity, regardless of age or socioeconomic status.

“So? He’s helping the company now. He’s a freakin’ genius. We should be glad he’s on our team and support him because he’s one of us now.”

“He’s a contractor, a line item in an Excel spreadsheet. And I bet you wouldn’t be singing the same tune if you knew why he went to prison.”

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