Page 105 of Flaunt
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Petterson extends a hand. “Your father and brother Moss did some work for me a while back. Their craftsmanship was superb. I really enjoyed working with them.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them.” Banks smiles. “They take a lot of pride in their work.”
“That’s evident in the end product. So what do you do?”
“Cars. Classic car restoration, to be exact.”
Mr. Petterson nods. “Is that so? I bought a Dodge Charger at an auction a few years ago. It’s been sitting in my back bay under a cover since the day I brought it home. Needs tons of work, but I don’t know where to start.”
“I’d be happy to come take a look at it and give you some pointers, if you’d like.”
Mr. Petterson’s face lights up. “That would be wonderful.”
Banks chuckles. “My head mechanic and assistant both took the week off. So if you’ll give me a few weeks, that would be great.”
“Bad timing?”
“No, I’m a sucker.” Banks chuckles. “They both work their behinds off for me, so telling them they can’t go be with their families isn’t something I can do. It may be bad for business and bad for my health while they’re gone, but we all survive, and they come back happy.”
Mr. Petterson pats Banks on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then he turns to me.
“So, Sara, how are you doing? Have you found a new job?” Mr. Petterson asks.
My chest wobbles. “Not yet. I’m in the process of moving too—talk about bad timing,” I say with a nervous laugh. “I’ll be sending more résumés out this coming week.”
“Why don’t you call me?”
I flinch. “Really?”
He smiles. “You’re bright. Talented. Creative.”
Banks squeezes my hand, sending a current of energy through me.
“I think you might just be a good fit for us,” Mr. Petterson says.
The hairs on the back of my neck stands on end, and I clench down on Banks’s hand. Before I can gather my wits and figure out what my instincts are trying to tell me, I hear his voice.
“Good evening, Sara and gentlemen,” Joshua says, his gaze burning a hole in my forehead.
Mr. Petterson hesitates and then takes a deep breath. “Mr. Eubanks, hello. I’m glad you could make it.”
“Of course,” Joshua says, his sights still on me. “I’m thrilled to be here.” His attention switches to Banks. “And you are?”
“Banks Carmichael,” he says, smoothly. “I’m Sara’s fiancé. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
I try to hide my smile.
Mr. Petterson waves a hand in the air, catching us all off guard. “I’m going to have to excuse myself. Banks, I’ll have Jennifer get you my number, and we’ll catch up on the first of the month. Does that sound good?”
“Excellent. I’ll look forward to it.”
“And Sara. Use my email,” Mr. Petterson says, smiling. “Good to see you all. Enjoy the party.”
We say our goodbyes, and I can’t help chuckling in surprise on the inside at Mr. Petterson’s snub of Joshua.Mr. Petterson truly is a respectable man.
As soon as he’s gone, the air grows tense. Banks’s arm goes around my waist again, holding me close to him.
