As a single mom in a small town, there's only one thing I want. Another baby. When all the roads to getting what I want lead to dead ends, I turn to one of my best friends for help.
In my mind, Trent Castillo is the perfect baby daddy. He has good g...
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The next day, as though the fates heard my silent begging, I get my first client referred to me by Earl. The woman is from Utica, but Earl has replaced every electric part that his diagnostics have said is problematic, and her car is still throwing codes. He calls to tell me she's on her way to me, and that he's going to pick up the tab. I'd love to tell him I can do it for free for old times' sake, but the reality is that I can't.
When she arrives, I run my own tests. A couple of the guys who work for me, that I'm only starting to get to know, come over to watch me walk through the problem. The old joke about how many people it takes to change a lightbulb pops into my head, and I hope she doesn't think it's amateur hour over here.
It takes me almost two hours to root down to the issue, but I find it. A wire that probably wasn't attached properly at the factory. She leaves with no more codes showing, and she's happy with me and happy with Earl.
It's the first real win since I opened, and I breathe a sigh of relief. This is what I'm good at.
"That was impressive, man," Brett, an older mechanic who worked for Bruce for years, says at lunch. "You were like a bloodhound. Are you going to train a few of us in how to narrow that shit down?"
"I can, yeah," I say. "If anything comes in, I can work side-by-side with whoever wants to understand how I'd tackle it."
"Pencil me in for the next one," Brett says. "I wasn't sold on Bruce selling to you, but that was impressive." He wags a finger at me as he returns to his oil change.
Just after lunch, Maggie and Grady show up in separate vehicles. Maggie comes in with a broad grin, holding Grady's hand.
"We came to get our oil changed," Maggie says.
"He doesn't do that for you," I say, nodding at Grady.
"Fuck off, man," Grady says, immediately picking up on my double meaning. "We're getting our car oil changed here, and then we're taking a few shots for social media. Hyping you up, as it were."
"Hiran is coming to do a story on the shop takeover, too," Maggie says. "For the local paper. Lots of people read it online or get it in print. He's getting his oil changed too."
I glance at my mom, who's been the one in charge of bookings, and she gives me a slight smile.
"Did you really want me to tell you?" she asks.
It's a fair question. I probably would have turned it all down, and I really shouldn't. The press and social media push from Maggie, from Grady, from Hiran could make a difference. I do need as many people as possible hyping me up, even if the notion makes me want to hide out in my office and avoid people. I can deal with negative attention—I've learned to steel myself against it—but pats on the back are tougher to take.
"Emily arranged it all," Maggie says. "Had Penny book it."
My chest goes tight and then warm at the realization that she heard me the other night, and then she immediately tried to help. "She's my best hype man," I say.
