I jumped out of the car and slammed the door. My annoyance at Steven melted when I entered the waiting area and Sam was at the desk. Nate was nowhere to be seen.

“Ms. McAllister,” Sam said, picking up a plastic envelope and pointing it in my direction. “I was about to call you. We found some issues with your car, and we’re going to need to keep it a few days.”

“A few days?” I squeaked. I winced, and my chest tightened. What was I going to do for transportation in the meantime? I cleared my throat. There had to be some mistake. “What else is wrong with it?”

The door opened, and a different man entered from the garage. He had blue eyes and short brown hair and looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. A flush crept up my neck as he gave me an appreciative once-over.

“This is Jeff.” Sam gestured to the man. “He can tell you more.”

“Why don’t you follow me, and I can show you what I’ve found,” Jeff said as he held the door.

“I’m not sure I’ll understand what I’m looking at,” I mumbled. A quick glance around confirmed Nate was not in the bays either. The tension in my shoulders eased.

“No worries. I’ll explain it as I go.”

For the next several minutes, Jeff walked me around the car as he described the myriad of problems he’d found. When Jeff finished, my head was swimming.

“How much will this cost?” I asked, my voice unsteady. The estate would reimburse me for the repairs, but I estimated how much money I had in my bank account to cover the cost up front and guessed I might be a few hundred or so short.

“I’m sure I can waive the cost of labor for an old friend,” a deep voice said behind me.

I spun around. Nate’s dark-brown eyes held a hint of amusement, and my lips quirked up slightly in return. Maybe he was in a better mood.

“I couldn’t ask that of you,” I protested.

“You didn’t ask, and it’s not for you,” Nate replied. “It’s my understanding the estate will pay for any repairs, and I don’t think it’s necessary to charge labor and a tow for something your mother had no control over.”

“Th-Thank you,” I stammered as my cheeks burned. Of course, he was doing that in deference to Mom. Nothing more. “I appreciate that.”

Nate clapped a hand on Jeff’s back. “Jeff has already ordered the parts, and we should have your car ready in a few days.”

I nodded then shifted uneasily. Without the car, how was I going to get home? Nate seemed to sense my discomfort.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“It’s just—“ I shook my head. It wasn’t his problem. I would figure something out. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

He rubbed a finger over his eyebrow as if trying to determine whether I was lying. I gave a weak smile I hoped was convincing, and he shrugged.

“We’ll call you when it’s ready.”

I walked through the waiting room and out the door, my mind reeling. Now what? I pulled up Uber on my phone, knowing full well I would never get someone out to the tiny town. Sure enough, the app reported no drivers available in my area.

Spectacular. There was yet another reason I didn’t want to stay in the tiny nowheresville of Cedar Haven. Who didn’t have Uber these days? A longing for Seattle swept over me. I missed the city for so many reasons, but public transit and multiple rideshare apps were among my top five at the moment.

Scrolling through my old contacts, I debated calling my friends, but I dreaded it. I hadn’t spoken to any of them in months. When I’d first returned to the West Coast, they checked in on me regularly, but people would leave only so many unanswered voicemails before they gave up.

Cursing my antisocial behavior, I swallowed as I dialed, leaning against the building for support. My first two calls went to voicemail. Kristin Donnovan was an old theatre chum, and Leslie Wilson was a fellow teacher. I left messages for both of them without much hope of a response anytime soon.

My next contact was Mom, and I quickly scrolled away as a ripple of pain spread through my chest. I also skipped Rose, since I knew my future sister-in-law was working.

Next up was Toccara Jenson. We’d been friends since elementary school, and my heart filled with hope. Last I’d heard, Toccara had started her own business, which meant she could choose her hours. Of all my friends, she might be my best shot.

“Lanie?” Toccara answered, and I winced at the incredulous tone.

“Hi, Toccara. How are you?”

A brief silence followed, and I could almost sense the judgment pouring through the phone.