Page 19 of One Weekend in Boston

"I never got that far in my plan. I know I told my dad's employees to give me a few weeks, but I think I always knewthings would never go back to the way they were. My father had taken one of the mechanics under his wing and I think if I offered him the chance to buy it from me, he would. I know it would be in good hands."

The thought of selling my father's business had my stomach in knots. Even if a small part of me always knew I didn't want to run it forever. I may have grown up in the place, but my heart wasn't set on being a mechanic or a business owner.

"Would you be selling it out of fear or because it's not what you want to do?"

It was crazy how well Jack knew me after such a short period of time. I pushed the food away and settled back against the headboard. I was full anyway. Food no longer held the same appeal, and to be honest, I was munching on the fries simply because they were in front of me.

"A little of the first one but a whole lot of the second. I never wanted to be a mechanic. My father knew that, despite growing up in the shop. He taught me everything he knew, and if it ever came to it, I could choose that career but it's not my first choice. Or even in my top five. Neither is being a business owner. Again my father taught me everything he knew, and I think I make a decent boss, but I hate the bookwork side of it. If I never have to balance another checkbook again, I wouldn't be upset."

Jack laughed. "I know exactly what you mean." Then he looked at me. Really looked at me. I learned pretty quickly that when Jack gave me his attention, he gave all of it. He made sure I felt heard. "So what’s your first career choice?"

No one had ever asked me that before, not even my father. He was amazing, he loved me and showed me every day. But his shop had been his life, and secretly, I think he hoped I would change my mind. He wanted me to love his career path and follow in his footsteps.

"I never thought about it. I started working in the shop when I was fifteen years old. That never changed after high school. I took odd jobs on the side to keep busy and to make enough money to afford living on my own, but as far as a career went . . ." I folded in on myself. "It was never a thought. My father loved to call me a free spirit and maybe that was true. I’m fine fluttering from job to job. I’ve always had at least two at any given time and money wasn't an issue. Not because my father gave it to me. I’m not afraid of hard work and I give every job I have my all. I just haven’t found one yet that I love enough to want to stay at it forever.”

My voice trailed off as I sunk into the thought, and I let my head drop onto my knees.

"Hey." Jack used his fist to lightly bump me under the chin so that I was forced to pick my head up and look him in the eyes. "Not everyone needs to have their life mapped out for them. If bouncing around makes you happy, then keep doing that."

"Davis told me it was irresponsible."

"Davis can fuck a duck," Jack spat. "Actually, that's offensive to ducks and I wouldn't put those nice animals through that torture. Don't let his words make you do something you don't want to."

Jack was right. I had already given Davis too much control and I needed to stop. The words only bothered me so much because he wasn't the first one to say them. A few of the guys at the shop liked to tease me about my lack of direction. I normally blew it off, but it had me thinking maybe I needed to settle down a bit. It was nice to see Jack didn't think along the same lines. He seemed to care about me for who I was, and that was a nice change for once.

TEN

Jack

As if I needed more of a reason to hate Davis, the fact that he put that uncertainty in Shannon's eyes made my blood boil.

I was lucky enough to have parents who encouraged me to be myself. That meant following any path that made me happy, as long as it didn't involve drugs or a life of crime. So far, I’d held myself to that, but I might have a hard time keeping to that second part. The more I learned about Davis, the more murdering him sounded like a damn good idea.

Shannon gifted me with a genuine smile.

How did I know it was genuine? Because last night at the bar I had seen the fake one. It was meant to keep distance from what was supposed to only be a one-night stand. Now that we’d moved past that, I was getting the real her.

Maybe it was too soon to be thinking it but I was pretty damn sure I was falling for the real Shannon.

It was a good thing my phone chose that moment to ring. Otherwise, I might've blurted my feelings out, and I had a feeling Shannon wouldn't appreciate them.

Not yet anyway.

When I saw it was my brother calling, I quickly swiped to answer. I didn't get the opportunity to say hello before he started talking.

"Someone torched Shannon's father's shop."

My heart shattered at my brother's words. I knew what this would do to Shannon. She might've just admitted that she didn't want to run her father's business, but I had no doubt that she wouldn't want it to burn to the ground either.

"Keep me posted on what you find out."

I hung up before my brother could warn me what this meant. I already knew what Davis' objective was and I was going to have an uphill battle trying to convince Shannon not to play into his hands.

"Who was that?" The tremble in her voice gave her away. She already knew something bad had happened. She just hadn't known how bad it really was.

"It was Matthew."

"Tell me. I would rather you just rip the Band-Aid off and tell me."

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