Page 62 of Ace of Spades

The baby goat bleats at being the topic of conversation again.

“Okay…”

“What I’m saying is, just because someone pushes something away, doesn’t mean they don’t care about it.”

“Am I the goat in this analogy?” I tilt my head at him.

He laughs again and pats me on the shoulder before turning to head back into the garage.

“You and that goat have more in common than you know,” he calls over his shoulder, before disappearing through the back door, leaving me to my thoughts.

I turn back to the baby goat, who’s back to gnawing at the chain-link fence with even more fervor.

“Is that why you stick around? The big bad boss keeps you fed and hydrated?” I ask it.

The baby goat ignores me. It’s now on a mission to bring down the fence.

“Well, we both might need to raise our standards,” I tell it, before chugging down the remainder of the coffee.

I look down at the paper that is still in my hand.

It does feel good for someone else to believe in this shop as much as I do. And Benji’s right, SKC can win this thing.

Maybe the money will relieve some financial stress on the man who carries the world on his shoulders.

I’ve sifted through his desk. I’ve seen the invoices. The past due notices.

He probably won’t say it, but SKC is going under and fast. It’s no wonder he’s lashing out. I would, too, if the thing I built from the ground up was going up in flames.

But I’m not going to let that happen.

With renewed strength, I march myself back into the building and claim my place.

I belong here, whether Levi Steele can see it or not yet. I’m going to see this through.

The day goes by in a blur of phone calls, machinery whirring, and the lingering smell of fuel as the crew works their shift and knocks out some of the menial work that’s been put off for a while.

I wish we had time to shower, but by the time the shop gets closed up, we have to get going to the game.

The black SUV that pulls into the lot is glossy and looks obnoxiously expensive. The kind of car that doesn’t belong anywhere near tools or dirt or the baby goat now chewing on a tire in the corner just outside the shop.

Levi will be so pleased.

I chuckle to myself at the sight of it.

Julian whistles low next to me.

“Your dad sends a car. My dad sends me passive-aggressive texts.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight the tightness in my chest.

I haven’t seen Brody since I visited him and he hired me for this job.

Has he really accepted this?

The notion that I am his daughter, even if he doesn’t know me from the guy down the street? Actually, in this place, he probably does know the guy down the street.

But I’d at least be insisting on a paternity test if I were him. Instead, I’m getting invited to his place of work. To meet the people he sees regularly.

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