Page 17 of Flaunt
That’s true.
I toss her folder on the edge of my desk and then sit in my ripped office chair.
The tension in my shoulders eases as I breathe in the scents of grease and oil and the thing Tasha plugs in my outlet that smells like fresh linen.Or that’s what the label says, anyway.
My office is my favorite spot in the world.
Pictures of the cars we’ve restored over the years hang on a bulletin board. Various awards hang on the walls next to plaques from baseball teams, volleyball clubs, and cheerleading programs that I’ve donated to or sponsored.It makes me feel good.
The door facing me looks across the lobby and Tasha’s desk. The door to my left opens to the shop floor. Sometimes I just sit here and can’t believe that this is all mine. I’m not sure that I imagined I could have something this big—that people from all over the country would send their cars to me to have them restored. That so many people would trust me. Respect me.
It’s the best feeling in the world.
“Hey, Banks,” Tasha says. “Check your email, if you can. I got copied on one from Bristbank Aftermarket, and I think you’ll want to respond fairly quickly.”
“The way you just said that makes me think I probably shouldn’t read it at all.”
She laughs. “Want me to log in to your email and pretend to be you?”
“Not unless you want to deal with about a hundred messages from the Golden Years Dating app.” I scowl. “You know what? Fuck Jess.”
Her laughter grows louder.
I must admit that Jess’s prank was a good one—excellent, even. If it were directed at anyone else, I would’ve found more entertainment value in it. But being that it wasmyname—or Sparkles, actually, and my picture and contact info that he uploaded into the Golden Years Dating app, it isn’t quite as hilarious.
But whatwillbe hilarious is how I retaliate. I just haven’t figured that out yet.
I click open my email and find the message in question. My jaw drops.
“They’re charging me a thousand dollars as a rush fee?” I say, getting Tasha’s attention. “Are they kidding?”
“That’s what it says. I knew you’d want to see that before they ship the part.”
I hitreply all. “I’ll mine metal out of the earth and make my own part before I pay that.”
Tasha grins.
My fingers fly over my keyboard. “Hey, Tash.”
“What?”
I sit back in my chair. “Is it for fuck’s sake or for fuck sakes?”
She rolls her chair around and faces me from across the building. “Why?”
“I’m replying to that email. I want to sound professional.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“So for fuck sakes then?”
She sighs. “Are you joking?”
“No. I really don’t know.For fuck’s sake.For fuck sakes.” I wrinkle my brow. “They sound the same.”
She crosses her arms over her Carmichael Classics T-shirt and says both variations aloud. “Dammit. I’m not sure how you say it now.”
Right?“Well …” I rub my chin. “Neither of them really makes sense.”
