Page 95 of Sanctuary

Solo shrugged. “That was before I had kids to keep safe.” She took a long pull on her beer and sighed.

Gabe shared a worried glance with Shay. They’d been too busy to have lunch together, so she hadn’t gotten the chance to pull the pin out and chat with Solo.

RB tapped the screen of her iPad. “D’you want the stats?”

“Sure.” Gabe relaxed back into the sofa, not sure if she’d be able to get up again. Maybe she could just sleep here tonight.

“We did 102 oil changes and used 597 liters of oil.”

“Jesus,” Shay said. “That’s $5,060.22 worth of work. Thank God Janie bankrolled that initiative.”

Gabe didn’t miss Solo’s jaw tighten at the mention of her wife again. What the hell was going on there? “You did that math quick.”

Shay held up her bottle. “A couple more of these, and it might’ve taken me a few seconds longer.”

Gabe and the rest of them laughed.

“So, fifty-four percent of clients today came in with the QR code from our social posts,” RB said, “thirty-five percent were from Mr. Jones’ client base, and the rest were passing drive-ins.”

“That’s pretty damn good, right?” Gabe asked and put her feet up on the table, avoiding the pool of beer.

“It’s better than that,” RB said. “Even if we only retain twenty percent of those clients for the first six months of business, we’d be doing great.”

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Gabe said. “I want to say thanks. RB, Woody, and Shay—you pulled up your lives on a dime to relocate here for this, and Solo, you convinced your wife to put in the lion’s share of financial backing. We used to sit around an oil drum in the desert, drinking beer and dreaming about this day, and I can’t believe it’s finally here.” She fiddled with the label on her beer to give her bubbling emotions time to settle. “Not only did we make it happen, but we also made it a huge success, according to our stats guru and our aching bodies.” She glanced beyond her gathered friends to the Brewster in the far corner of the garage. “And then there’s that little project in the back…”

“I’m nearly finished editing the video of the whole restoration.” Woody shook her head. “It’s going to be better than I thought it was, even after I take out all the conversations that shouldn’t go beyond this shop. When it’s ready, I’ll put it on a flash drive for Lori, and I’ll put snippets up on the website to create more interest for the auction.” She looked at Gabe. “Should I send it to her? Or will you take it personally?”

Gabe’s elation drained out of her work boots. “I can’t answer that right now,” she said and sighed deeply.

“Yes, you can.”

Gabe snapped her head around so fast that she almost wrenched her neck. “Lori?” She jumped up from the sofa and half-jogged toward the side entrance where Lori was waiting awkwardly in the door jamb. “Come in.”

Lori shook her head. “You come out.”

Gabe glanced over her shoulder, and Shay shooed her away, mouthing, “Go.”

Lori turned, and Gabe followed her outside. A hundred things ran through her mind, all competing to get out of her mouth first. In the end, she remembered what Shay had said about letting Lori have the power, so she said none of them.

Lori had parked her car in the alleyway, and she sat on the hood.

Gabe waited for her to say something, to yell at her for betraying her trust, or to calmly tell her to stop texting and that they were no longer friends. But Lori simply stared at her, saying nothing at all.

“You should bring your car around front so I can check it. The Bolts had a run of bad axles, and they can catch fire,” Gabe said after the silence had become unbearable.

“You should get in my car so I can take you somewhere to talk.” Lori pushed off the car and got in.

Gabe bit the inside of her lip. Lori was even sexier when she was angry, and her command pushed buttons Gabe didn’t know she had. She took a step forward obediently then remembered she’d spent the day under twenty or so dirty cars. She motioned toward her greased-up pants. “I probably shouldn’t sit in your car like this.”

“I’ve covered the seat with an old blanket,” Lori said. “Just get in and shut up before I change my mind and drive away alone.”

Gabe rushed around the snub-nose hood and jumped in the passenger side without having to be told a third time. She didn’t question where they were going; it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Lori wasn’t ignoring her anymore. The atmosphere was about as ominous as she imagined a court-martial would be, but she also had a sense of hope. She was sure that the way Lori had looked her over was sexually loaded; there’d been a glint in her eye, and her lips had twitched slightly. Under the intense scrutiny, Gabe had twitched in an entirely different place.

Lori drove in silence through the evening traffic and swung into the underground parking lot of the Hotel Quantum. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said as she switched off the engine. “I just want somewhere private to talk, and somewhere I can walk away from at any time.”

“Okay.” It made sense, of course, but the explanation didn’t keep Gabe’s hope from kicking into overdrive. If Lori would just hear her out, if she could explain what she’d done, and if Lori could be open-minded enough, maybe Gabe would be able to convince Lori that she could trust her, that she would hold her heart as tenderly as if it were her own.

An unwelcome saying from her father slipped into her mind. If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, then we’d never go hungry…

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