Page 70 of Tuned To Break
Stella appears in the doorway, looking absolutely stunning. She’s been extra careful about outfits since the motor oil incident last week, claiming she doesn’t trust the workshop notto find new ways to ruin her clothes. The memory of her covered head to toe in black oil—furious, magnificent, completely in charge despite her ridiculous situation, makes me smile despite the current mess.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, her voice carrying that professional tone she uses when she’s in full operations manager mode. “But are we expecting any deliveries this afternoon? The client schedule shows the Charger assessment, but there are no details about parts or materials.”
Fuck. Of course she’d catch the discrepancy. The woman has the memory of an elephant and the organisational skills of a military general. She probably has every delivery, appointment, and deadline memorised.
Chase and I trade a look, panic flaring again. This is exactly what we were afraid of—her attention to detail creating problems we hadn’t anticipated.
“Actually,” Chase says, voice a little too high and way too casual, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. The Charger consultation got moved to next week.”
Her brows pinch into that little furrow that appears when something doesn’t add up. “Really? When? I’ll need to update the schedule and notify the client.”
“I’ll handle it. I know them personally,” he blurts—too quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her expression shifts, and I can practically see her instincts kicking in. She hates being left out of scheduling changes; it goes against everything she’s built.
“Chase,” she says, a note of steel entering her voice that makes us both straighten, “I’m literally the operations manager. Scheduling changes go through me. That’s the point of having systems.”
“I know, I just?—”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
The question hangs in the air like a challenge, and I can see Chase starting to panic. His face is going red, and he’s doing that thing where he rubs the back of his neck when he’s nervous. If Stella notices—and she will because she notices everything—she’s going to know something’s up.
Time for damage control.
“Actually, darl,” I say, stepping closer and trying to project an air of casual affection rather than desperate deflection, “I was hoping we could grab lunch together. I want to chat about a few workshop improvements—and I’d like to take my girlfriend out.” I say, turning on the smile I save for her.
She looks at me, and I can see her mentally shifting gears from work mode to girlfriend mode. It’s fascinating to watch the way her shoulders relax slightly, the way her expression softens, and the way her voice changes when she’s talking to me personally rather than professionally.
“Lunch sounds lovely,” she whispers, and for a second I think this might work, “but I’ve got so much to catch up on, and you’re needed here this afternoon. Maybe dinner instead?”
Shit. I need to be more persuasive.
“Come on,” I say, sliding my hands to her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin through the soft fabric of her dress. “When’s the last time you took an actual lunch break? You’ve been going non-stop since you went full-time. My work can wait.”
“That’s what happens when you’re proving yourself in a new position—and you really need to be here when Mr Clemens comes in to talk about his engine upgrades.”
“Stella,” I say gently, letting some of the genuine concern I feel creep into my voice, “you’ve already proven yourself. Multiple times. The workshop runs better than it has in years. You don’t have anything left to prove.”
She softens at the compliment, and I can see her resolve wavering, but I know it’ll take more than flattery to get her to abandon her work in the middle of the day.
“One long lunch,” I press, thumbs stroking her waist the way that makes her breath catch. “We could go to that new place in town you mentioned. Make an afternoon of it. I’ll push back my meeting with Clemens; he prefers after hours anyway.”
“I really shouldn’t?—”
My phone buzzes. A text from Chase.
Chase
Yasmin and Ella are on their way. Backup plan.
Thank fuck for forward-thinking mates with resourceful girlfriends.
“Actually,” Chase cuts in, suddenly brightening like he’s had a genius idea rather than a desperate one, “that’s great. You’ve been working too hard. You deserve a break, and you are right, Batman’s Kinky Cousin really should be here for the meeting.”
“I appreciate the concern,” she says—but I can hear the ‘but’ coming, “but?—”
“STELLA!” a cheerful voice calls from the workshop, cutting through whatever protest she was about to make.“Surprise!”
