Page 77 of Every Broken Promise
Drinks in hand, I was ready to leave, and that’s when I bumped into the cop guy who gave us a ride home the other night. I almost blamed him for ending up at Ty’s house, but that was no one’s fault but my own.
As soon as I turned my car on, that stupid light telling me I needed my oil changed came back on.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it.
I knew where the Haywards’ auto shop was located because I’d accompanied Tyler to drop off a few cars there back in the day. Since we are closer to the nearest city, when people from Sunny Pines need a tow they got Kanes’ Auto to bring it over.
I’m sorry, Rach.
By the time I finished, her iced coffee would have been a bit melted. At least she didn’t seem as excited as I was to get one, which made me feel better.
Perhaps I should have dropped off the groceries back at Rachel’s ex-father-in-law’s house, but if I had done that, I wouldn’t have been getting my oil changed, and if I knew Ty, he would be asking me about it soon.
So, I made my way to Haywards’ Garage. Once there, I parked. I got out of the car and made my way toward the counter. The guy there was looking at the computer. He had tousled light brown hair, from what I could see, and his side profile was striking.
“Hello, I hope I’m not too late. I’d like to get an oil change,” I told him, going for extra sweet, because why not?
He looked down at his watch. It was close to nine, but there was plenty of time for him to give me an oil change.
“Sure, I can do it. Have you been here before?” he asked without looking at me.
“Nope.”
“Name and car model?”
“Astrid Hart—” I barely got my name out when he turned to look at me.
Okay, yes, for an older guy, he was hot.
“Civic?” he asked.
All I could do was nod. Was he a psychic or something?
“Sorry, can’t do,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.
I felt my stomach twist in knots, wondering what the hell I had done to warrant me getting denied service at an establishment.
“Why?” I whispered.
“Tyler Kane called me a few days ago. Said he was doing work on it, and he didn’t want anyone else’s hands all over his stuff.”
My mouth dropped open. The guy looked like he was fighting off a smile.
“You can’t be serious?” I asked in disbelief.
This time, he did smile.
“For some free towing, I sure can.”
“That’s unethical,” I told him, aware I was fighting with the wrong person.
“Tell Tyler, Russel said thank you,” he told me.
Feeling dismissed, I huffed and then stomped back to my car, and I swear I could hear the guy chuckling behind me.
