Page 12 of Rowdy and Willing

“Yes, that’s true, but he doesn’t know that.”

Windy hops out and stretches, glad to be free from the vehicle. “Lies and hiding things sound like a great foundation to build a business relationship on.”

“If this deal goes through, it’ll make all of us rich. Or richer than we already are, in Lou’s case. Either way, that’ll keep everyone happy.”

“Sure, Dad.”

We haul a tray of our prototypes into the shop. We have a few versions meant to be placed in vehicles of different sizes. After all, a semi-truck requires far more oil than a tiny sedan.

Out of his office comes a man I assume is Lou Griffin. He’s wearing a white suit with a bolo tie, cowboy boots, and a ten-gallon hat. It’s the most wannabe cowboy outfit I’ve ever seen.

And I’ve seen it before. It’s practically the uniform of the rich fuck who wants to seem folksy out here. Meanwhile, Windy’s dad is wearing a worn blue button-down shirt and some faded black slacks with loafers he probably had to dig out of the back of his closet. He tried to look nice today, but he wasn’t going out of his way to buy anything new for today.

It’s the same story for Windy and I. We’re dressed nicely, but we’re still mechanics. Work shirt and jeans for both of us. It’d be so unlike Windy to show up in a fancy, frilly dress. That’s not something I expect her to see her in on anything except her wedding day.

So maybe I’d see it sooner rather than later.

“Bob Jones, you old son of a gun, put it there,” Lou says, offering a handshake to his old friend.

“Long time no see, Lou. Glad you’re willing to hear us out.”

“I’m always looking for a good opportunity. This your mechanic here?” he says, pointing at me.

“Him and my daughter here.”

Lou’s demeanor changes when he sees Windy. “Her? She’s working on cars? She’s far too pretty for that. Come on, missy, you should be on someone’s arm, not under a hood.”

“Sir,” I interrupt, “she’s helped me create this million-dollar idea. She’s brilliant and she’s far more than just a pretty face.”

He grunts. “Whoever heard of a woman mechanic? Sounds like work that could break their dainty little hands. She’s your daughter, Bob? You let her do this?”

Windy’s father doesn’t know what to make of this sudden change in conversation. “Yes? She’s very bright and she’s behind what we want to show you.”

He laughs. “All I want to see is her, though.” He steps forward and sizes up Windy.

“Can I help you, sir?” Windy says, not ready to deal with his shit.

“Oh, the things you can help me with. You have such a pretty face. You could get far if you leverage it right, telling you right now.”

“Not interested,” Windy says, breaking eye contact. “Judge my work on its own merits or don’t.”

“Come on, now. You know how it works in the business world. It’s not too different from cars. Sometimes you need to lube things up to get them going. With cash, with influence, with favors. And I know a favor you can do for me.”

“Back off,” I say, stepping in front of Windy, her father getting in between us too.

“What’s gotten into you, Lou? My daughter is half your age, you shouldn’t be talking to her like that.”

Lou grabs and adjusts his blazer. “I’m just saying what I need to get this business deal going.”

“You haven’t even seen our work,” Windy says, rolling her eyes.

“This doesn’t depend on how good your little doohickey is, cupcake. It depends on what you’re willing to do to get stuff done.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Lou?” Her father pushes past me and shoves him.

“Language! You know how I feel about foul language, Bob.”

“Forget your worries about language. The shit you’re spewing is far more foul than any ‘bad word’.”

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