Page 36 of Leashed

Chapter Fourteen

Bo hefted his tool bag onto his shoulder and walked into the new shop, scanning the lifts in the bays as he approached the shop manager and extended his hand. “Bo Echidna. Here to check over those cables.”

The manager gave him a limp shake while he made a show of checking his watch. “Must be nice to waltz into jobs whenever you want.”

He gave the guy an exaggerated smile. “Sure is. Which ones were giving you problems?”

“Bays four and six. And two is spitting hydraulic fluid. Hope you’re as good as I was told.”

Determined to wrap up the gig on time, he walked over to the first lift and got to work.

He was elbow-deep into a steel column when a familiar voice filtered through from the office. Giving the gear wrench a final push, he unclasped the vice grips and shoved them into his back pockets, wiping his filthy hands on his cargos as he sauntered over to the counter.

“She doesn’t need winter tires,” Bo stated, nudging a hello to Sage when she looked up at him, her dark eyes widening in surprise. “An aggressive all-weather tread like those ones over there will do for the driving she does.”

The shop manager’s lips drew tight for a moment, his up-sale spiel for winter and summer rims thwarted. Bo stared the guy down until he relented. “Those are a good ch—”

“The lady needs the info, not me,” he interrupted. “I know about those.”

Turning toward Sage, the manager began explaining the benefits of the tires as Bo walked back to the bays and resumed tightening cables. A good twenty minutes went by before Sage poked her head into the shop and gave him a wave. His phone pinged moments later with a thank-you. With a distracted nod her way, he adjusted the position of his ladder and climbed up, frowning when a young tech drove Sage’s old beater in and rolled four inferior tires into his station.

“Those aren’t going on there,” he called over, jumping off the final rungs. “The all-weathers should be on the work order.”

The kid shrugged. “Not what I was told, man.”

Giving his hands a quick wash in the shop sink, he went into the office. “Your tech grabbed the wrong tires for that car.”

The manager shook his head. “The lady went with the cheapest option. Signed off on the work order,” he grunted. “You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her,” he muttered, drying his hands on his dirty cargos. “What’s the price difference between those and the all-weathers?”

“Four hundred.”

He narrowed his eyes at the cheap tires sitting beside Sage’s car. “Those are shit.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at the manager. “My tab for today will come to around five. How about we toss those good treads on there and call it even?”

*

Sage flipped herphone sideways, muting the volume on the video while she watched social media footage of a huge black dog playing a game of chicken with semis on the interstate. Shaking her head, she checked the time again, opened her messaging app, and fired off a quick text to Bo.

Can you see how far along they are on replacing the tires?

She took a sip of coffee and glanced around the restaurant as it began to empty, the post-lunch crowd making their way back to work. Her cell buzzed almost instantly.

Should be ready in twenty.

Opening a menu, she waited for her server to return and placed an order to bring across the street to Bo.

She’d chosen the shop on recommendation of one of her fellow librarians, but had been completely unprepared for the number of options the salesman had provided. Up until he’d begun at the higher end tires, she’d thought the overtime shifts she’d been working had padded her bank account enough to splurge on tires for her little car.

She’d been ready to walk out when fate finally smiled on her and Bo walked in.

Walked in looking filthy, exhausted, and tense.

Leaving her payment on the table, she picked up the take-out containers and swung her purse over her arm, bracing herself for the rush of cold air as she stepped outside. The shop’s overhead doors were closed, Bo’s truck backed up tight against the far wall. Checking for traffic, she raced across the street and yanked the shop’s office door open, pulling it closed behind her to keep the cold out.

“Car’s almost done,” the manager called over to her from behind the till. “Want to square up the bill?”

Nodding, she set the food down and rifled through her purse for her wallet. “Cash okay?”

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