Page 32 of The Woman in the Garage

Especially when she worked in a busy environment where, I assumed, people milled around a lot, maybe even visited her office.

Sure, maybe she hadn’t slept well and was too caffeinated.

But the way the hair on the back of my neck stood up said it was something more than that.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, staying in the doorway so she didn’t feel intimidated.

“No, no. It’s okay. I guess I was really… in the zone,” she said, starting to squat down to gather her papers and pens.

“Allow me,” I said, moving inside.

My heel hit the door as I went down, clicking it closed as I grabbed a few pens.

I reached up toward her, standing there in her all-white sundress that made her skin look more sun-kissed than usual.

I didn’t realize how close to her I was.

But as I glanced up, I was achingly aware of how easily I could just reach up, slip under her skirt, pull her panties to the side, and get a taste of her.

“Thank you,” she said, voice breathless, leaving me to wonder if maybe she was thinking the exact same thing.

I was seconds away from reaching out when there was a loud bang in the garage that had her whole body jolting and her eyes turning into saucers.

Again… odd.

The place was always full of noise. You’d think she would have gotten used to it by now.

I turned my attention back to the papers, finding my gaze caught by several pages with big red question marks.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Dasha said, snatching the papers out of my hands, and shoving them haphazardly in the middle drawer of her desk, then slamming the drawer shut.

Hmm.

Something was going on here, but I couldn’t quite figure out what.

“You okay, baby?” I asked, getting back to my feet, thoughts of going down on her forgotten. For the moment.

“What? Yeah. Yes, of course,” she said, plastering a tight smile on her pretty face.

“You sure?”

“I just…”

“Need someone to talk to?” I asked.

To that, she exhaled hard.

“How about over lunch?” I offered. “No pressure. We can just talk about the weather and the condition of the roads if you want. For example, I nearly fucked up my wheel alignment on that pothole out front. Which makes me wonder if Phil had some kind of deal with the road works crew around here. Keeping the customers rolling in.”

That got her smile to go from plastic to pleasant. There was a softness around her eyes at the idea of her uncle.

“Okay. Yes. Lunch sounds great. I’ve been here since five,” she admitted.

“Is there that much work to do?”

“There’s a lot of cleaning up and sprucing up to do,” she said. “And it’s easier to get that kind of stuff done either before everyone gets here or after everyone leaves for the day. But, oddly, I find it less creepy here early in the morning than late at night.”

She grabbed her bag off of the cabinet along one of the walls. “Oh, wait!” she said, turning back when I went to open the door for her. “This is what you’re here for,” she said, going back to the desk, opening the top drawer, and pulling out a fat envelope.

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