Page 39 of Moonlit Kisses

–molly–

Max has been actingstrange since Tuesday morning, almost like he’s trying to avoid me. Whenever I speak with him, he’s polite but short in his responses, then he makes an excuse to get away from me. I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset him, but I really need to speak with him about my hot water. The stupid switch keeps turning off at the most inopportune times and I’m hoping he’ll be happy to get an electrician to check it out. This morning it turned off while I was halfway through my shower, my hair lathered in shampoo. The freezing water forced me out of the shower before I had finished washing my hair. It was easy enough to flick the switch back on, but still, I think it needs to be fixed.

The only problem is that I don’t want to seem like I’m ungrateful for a safe place to live. The apartment is amazing and I’m thankful that he’s allowing me to live here. I don’t want to be a pain in the ass and make things difficult. He might decide it’s easier to kick me out and leave the place empty, like it was before I moved in.

Making my way downstairs, I find the office empty, but the scent of coffee lingers. He must have made himself a coffee a few moments ago. I do the same and then make my way out to the workshop to say good morning, hoping he’s returned to his usual friendly self. I don’t think I can handle him being aloof toward me any longer. It’s been really uncomfortable. I hope he hasn’t changed his mind about me working and living here.

Only one way to find out. “Morning.” I keep my voice as upbeat as I can.

Without looking up from whatever he’s doing in the trunk of the Sprint, he responds. “Morning.”

Moving next to him, I try to peer around his body to see what he’s doing, but I can’t. “I thought you’d finished working on this car. What are you doing?”

He glances up at me. “Martin’s bringing his wife in this afternoon to look at her. I’m making sure all the wiring for the rear lights works properly.”

“Oh, do you think he’ll buy the car today?”

He stands to his full height, picking his coffee up from the floor to take a drink. He shrugs. “Maybe. He was pretty keen, but I guess it’s important to him that his wife agrees. It’s an expensive car, considering it won’t be his everyday drive.”

“If he buys it, will you buy another wreck straight away, or will you have a break in between?” I take a sip of my coffee.

“Depends if another car catches my attention straight away. I’ve actually got my eye on a nineteen thirty-eight Ford pickup truck, so we’ll see.” He shrugs one shoulder and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Well, I hope Martin takes the Sprint off your hands so you can get the truck. I love the shape of those pickups.” The lines are amazing on the vintage trucks, not like the models today. All square and bulky.

Max raises his eyebrows at me. “You know what they look like?”

“Yeah, my stepdad used to always be looking at the older cars. Muscle cars and pickups were his favorites. He was the one who taught me and my younger brother how to draw.”

A smile forms at the memory of us sitting on our front porch in the trailer park and drawing our neighbor’s truck. I’m pretty sure it was a late nineteen thirties pickup, but it was in terrible shape. It always surprised me whenever it started. I chuckle at the memory of the time it backfired while we were drawing it. Ethan nearly pooped his pants.

“What’s brought those dimples to life?” Max asks with a small smile of his own.

“Just remembering something funny. Our neighbor had a really run-down pickup. One day, we were sitting on our front porch practicing our drawing skills when the old guy came out and climbed in. When he started it up, it backfired and scared my little brother. I think he was about five at the time. I’ve never seen him bolt inside so fast.” Another chuckle escapes.

Max chuckles too. “Sounds like the engine was running too rich.” I look at him in confusion. “It happens when there’s too much fuel and not enough air.”

“Oh, right.” I take another sip of my coffee to hide my smile. I don’t think he realizes he’s actually looking at me as we have a conversation. The first we’ve had since he turned up at the workshop on Tuesday morning. I relax a little, feeling like we’re back on even ground.

Remembering the sketch I’ve framed of the Sprint, I hold up my finger and take off back to the office to grab it. I haven’t had a chance to show Max because he’s been so distant. Jogging back, I hold the frame with the sketch facing me, hiding my surprise for him. I can’t hold in my excitement. I hope he likes it. I stop next to him and make a big fuss about turning the frame around.

He chuckles until his eyes land on the framed drawing. The car looked great before, but framed with glass over the top, it looks really professional. He steps forward, studying it closely and I hold my breath, waiting for him to share his thoughts. I don’t need to wait for his words, because his expression shows everything he’s thinking. He glances between me and the sketch. “Molly.” His eyes drop back to the sketch, before rising to meet mine. “It’s incredible.” He holds his hand out toward the frame. “Do you mind?”

I hand it to him willingly. The look of awe and wonder on his face allows me to take a deep breath. I think he likes it a lot.

“It’s a cheap frame from the discount store, but it makes a world of difference to the simple sketch.”

“I wouldn’t say this is a simple sketch. It’s amazing.” He looks back up at me. “As I’ve said before, you could easily sell this.”

I wave off his comment. There’s no way my sketches are good enough to sell. “I’m torn about what to do with it. Do you think Martin will want it if he buys the car? Or perhaps you could put it up in the office, like a wall of remembrance of the cars you restore and sell.”

His eyes snap back to mine. “You’d let me keep this?”

“Of course.” I shrug. “If you want it, you can keep it.”

“I like the idea of starting a wall of sketches of the cars I restore. I mean, it’s not like I restore that many. It always takes me a while, but I’d love to keep this as a record, if you don’t mind.” He drops his eyes back to the sketch. “I’ll pay you for it.”

“You will not pay me for it. It’s not like it cost me anything to do, besides the ten-dollar frame, and I’m pretty sure that won’t break the bank.” Well, it won’t now that I have a regular job and a roof over my head to boot! I point my thumb over my shoulder toward the office. “It’s time I set up for the day. I think you have three bookings this morning. What time are Martin and his wife coming to look at the car?”

“Somewhere around two. I should be finished by then.” He hands the sketch back to me. “Can you put this in a safe place? I’ll hang it later today.”

“Sure.” I take it from him and then get everything organized, ready for our first client of the day.

* * *

It’s funny, some people drop their car off and come back to pick it up, others sit and wait for their car to be ready. Whenever I have someone sitting in the reception area waiting for their car, I feel I need to make conversation, which means I don’t get my work done. But the guy waiting on his car this afternoon is giving me the creeps. I’m glad it’s nearing on two and Max should almost be finished with his car. I’m trying my best to ignore him, but he’s not taking the hint. When I get up from my seat to file some paperwork, I catch him giving me yet another once over. He’s not discreet about it either, as his slimy eyes trail up and down my body.

“So, how tall are ya? Your legs seem like they go on forever. Wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my waist. If ya know what I mean.” He finishes with a wink and I’m certain my face looks like I’ve chewed on a lemon.

He steps closer and I try to back away, but I’m blocked by the counter with nowhere to go. I press my body as far away from him as I possibly can, but I’m trapped.

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