Under The Hood

Ch. 4

The next morning, I wake up with terrible indigestion. It burns deep, and I know that it's probably my first pregnancy symptom. Just my luck. As I get ready, the room spins, skin prickling from the sick feeling.

There's an unopened packet of ginger oat biscuits for when my parents visit sitting in the back of the cupboard, so I rip into the pack to munch on them as I head out the door half an hour later. The scent of ginger is pretty offensive, but I store the rest in my handbag along with my trusty mints and Rennie tablets, ready to face what the day throws at me.

It's late summer, so the air feels sticky walking from my car to the Protech office when I arrive just before the shop opens.

I brush a few flyaways back into my slicked-back ponytail as I cross the car park, trying to muster up the feeling that I belong here. The work polo shirt Jude gave me before I left yesterday certainly helps.

It's black with red trim, the company badge stitched just below my left collarbone with my name embroidered on the right side. I pair it with a black pencil skirt, sheer black tights, and red suede court shoes. The pink tones to my complexion always compliment a vibrant lip shade, so I went for a Hollywood red.

Nathan gives me a friendly greeting, introducing me to three of the other mechanics on shift today.

"I'll apologise now. I'm the worst at remembering names," I say, smiling when the younger of the men, Kyle, turns to show me the back of his overalls, which are stitched with his name across the shoulders, the same place as where OWNER sits on Jude's.

"We all have them," Nathan says, spinning to show me his back too.

I'm about to reply when the deep tone of Jude's voice sounds behind us. He approaches with his mobile phone plastered to his ear.

I politely smile. "Morning."

Jude stops as I turn, eyes fixed on my face, subtly dropping to take in my outfit. I pull the end of my ponytail across my shoulder, nervously playing with the ends. He breaks off from his phone for a second.

"Morning, Imogen," he says.

I don't know how to take his tone, but it's a few notes deeper, and his nostrils flare slightly.

I revel in the moment, but then he breaks eye contact, going back to his phone conversation. He nods for me to follow him down the hallway, and I hurry after him, saying goodbye to the other guys when they scatter.

Jude uses his keycard to get inside his office, punching in a code as well. A full day in here should have me on track with organising his stuff, especially if he plans to leave me alone.

After a moment, he hangs up his call and goes over to the water chiller to get us both a glass of crisp water.

"I've never been so grateful for air conditioning," he says.

I put my handbag on the leather sofa, finding space for it beside the boxes. "It's hot today."

"It is," he responds, and his eyes are on me again.

"I love my uniform," I say, finding a quiet thrill at the way he lowers his gaze for a second time. If anything, the polo shirt is on the tighter side because my boobs seem to have ballooned overnight. "Erm, if it's not too much trouble, could I have another spare top in a size up?"

"Sure," he says, clearing his throat. "Of course you can."

He tugs at the collar of his shirt, showing off some of the stubble which has crawled down his neck. A definite sight for sore eyes this morning, or in my case, sore tummies.