Songcatcher

Chapter Two

"Maybe you have to let go of who you are to become who you should be." -Carrie Bradshaw

---

Two years later
---

Emily sat finishing the remains of her lunch that even now set strewn across the wide work surface of her desk, she chewed in broken rhythms as she deliberated over the leger in front of her. Her little garage was doing well, even better than well, business had been booming. At the rate things were going she would soon have to source a larger garage space.

She internally laughed at the idea of one day having to rent or build a garage the size of a dealership, not that she would mind if that became a necessity. Smiling at the idea of having to grow her workforce, at being able to give people jobs and helping them to build their livelihoods and giving others the chance to live their dreams. The chance she had been given two years before.

Thoughts of Wyotech soon brought back memories of Max, she wondered not for the first time, where he was on the journey to his own dreams, and whether or not he would be proud of the little business she had built for herself. The money never mattered, even if the legers proved her coffers were overflowing, she preferred to use that extra money to bless the men and women who worked for her, often times until well after midnight to make the deadlines.

As she contemplated the raise the legers proved she could now do, she was interrupted by the shrill ringing of her office phone. She smiled at the idea of another customer.

"Hello, this is The Busted Knuckle. How may I help you?" Emily answered as she cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear, she quickly cleared off her notepad while she awaited an answer.

"God Emily, you really did it, didn't you?" A voice breathed from the otherside, a voice Emily would know anywhere.

"Max!" She called excitedly,

"The one and only, how is my Million Dollar Baby?" He queried, a mischievous smile in his voice.

"Well hell, I'm just peachy now." She answered with a laugh.

Max allowed the sound of her voice to wash over him, he bathed in her accent of honeyed whiskey and lazy southern afternoons. He had missed her, even more than he had realized.

"While I wish I could say this call was purely for pleasure, the truth is I need your help with something." Max admitted, a pucker forming between his brows.

"And that something is what?" Emily was mystified by the request.

"Lenora."

All it took was Max's breathless mention of a name for Emily to grasp his desire.

"I thought he wouldn't let anyone touch her?"

"He doesn't know. He had to sell her, he just doesn't know that I'm the new owner. I want to have her fully restored for his birthday. Do you think you can do it?"

Max's voice was full of uncertainty,

"When is his birthday?" Emily questioned mentally doing a rundown of all the pending projects and their respective deadlines.