Page 40 of Queen's Ransom

Celia returned the smile as she wiped her hands on a rag. “You’re dream, Bill. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Cee.”

“You have any issues, just give us a call.”

“How about I have some friends give you a call when they need work done?”

“Always happy for the business.”

The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. “I’ll be sure to send them your way.”

Celia sensed those wrinkles were born of hard times, and she was happy to be the cause of them in better ones. It made keeping the smile on her own face easier. “All right.” She slapped the roof of the car. “Get out of here and enjoy your ride.”

Once the Bentley cleared the lot, Celia relaxed her cheeks and blew out a long slow breath. She inhaled again, holding it, as she checked her phone.

Her stomach sank. Her Dinner tonight? text to Helena remained read but unanswered.

The day-long radio silence was the complete opposite of yesterday evening at the shop and late last night over texts, where their heated back-and-forth had continued. Celia had deleted the messages before going to sleep, not wanting the kids to accidentally find them, or worse yet, Gloria or Chris, but just thinking about them now, about how Helena had directed her every move with the vibrator, made Celia blush.

But since their brief exchange that morning, sweet and in-line with yesterday—Celia’s Weird waking up here again and Helena’s You’re always welcome in my house… and my bed—there’d been no responses to Celia’s other texts. All of them read and unanswered.

A flirtatious midday check-in, a selfie taken on the dolly where they’d gotten frisky yesterday.

A picture of the finished Bentley.

The dinner ask.

Had Celia pushed too hard? Maybe the flirty picture had been too much. But after yesterday evening, after last night, after Helena’s first and only text this morning…

Behind her, Lorenzo cleared his throat. “You’re glaring at that phone like you want it to explode.”

With messages would be good. Instead, it and the woman she wanted to hear from remained silent. She tucked the phone away and walked back into the bay where Zo was working on an after-market mod of a Urus. Less weight, more power, and a big paycheck for the shop. “Was just hoping to hear from someone.”

“Miss Madigan?”

She ran her hand along the custom spoiler and ducked her chin, hiding the blush that automatically came from being called out on her crush by the man who was her late father’s best friend.

At the front end of the car, Lorenzo lowered the hood. “I’m just glad you two are okay after Friday.”

Okay was a relative term, but to her staff, she wanted to project calm and normalcy. She’d filled them in yesterday morning on the previous week’s events. She’d had to in order to explain the leftover forensic dust, bullet holes, boarded-up windows, and spray paint, the new windshield that had been rush-ordered for the Bentley, and the new surveillance and extra muscle around the shop. Grant, it had turned out, was a bit of a garage rat himself, his grandfather a mechanic for a trucking company, his dad a vintage car enthusiast, so he knew how to make himself useful when needed and how to get out of the way when he wasn’t. Or maybe that was just him doing his job, no doubt one of the best at it if he worked for the Madigans.

“I feel bad I left when I did,” Lorenzo said.

“Don’t, Zo.” She crossed to his end of the car. “I’m glad you were out of here and safe, and thank you for the extra work on the Bentley.”

“Was a pleasure, and I’m sure Miss Madigan is just busy. She always seems that way.”

Not untrue, but Celia didn’t think that was the entire reason for the freeze out. “You got it in here?” she asked. “I need to do some paperwork in the office.”

“You go on. I’ve got it.” He used his rag to wipe a smudge off the Lambo’s hood. “Gonna finish up a few things, then I’ll clean up and close up.”

“Thanks.”

She tossed her own rag in the hamper, washed her hands and forearms at the sink, then headed to the office, Zo’s words continuing to rattle around in her head. Maybe she was overreacting. Yes, Helena had disappeared on her for months, but she’d promised that wouldn’t happen again. That she would stay this time, and she’d kept that promise through the chaos of the past weekend. If Helena was too busy to respond to texts, it was probably because of Celia, because Helena was out there doing everything possible to make sure she and her family were safe. She sat behind her desk and tapped out a new message on her phone. Let me know if you need anything.

When no reply text or bubbles appeared after a minute, she set the phone aside, facedown, and focused on the parts order that had to get submitted by end of day. Fifteen minutes later, her phone vibrated. She snatched it off the desk, flipped it over, and grinned at the text alert from Helena. She opened the message.

I’m good. Let Chris or Grant know if there are any issues tonight.

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