“When?” I heard him ask in a loud whisper. “I can’t do it for a couple of weeks. Why? Because I’m in the middle of something right now and because it means tracking him halfway across fucking Europe—that’s why. And as you know, that will take a lot of time and money.” There was a pause. “Expenses, plus three-hundred or I’m out. Yes, that’s three-hundred-thousand.” Another pause. “Fuck you, then. I can’t do this forever, and I need an out. My prices have gone up.” Another pause. “Then, he can get someone else to do it. I don’t give a fuck. You need me more than I need you.” A longer pause, “I’ll text you the address for the drop from a throwaway tomorrow. I won’t contact you when it’s done. Same as always.”
The phone snapped shut.
I ran back to the kitchen and was putting another plate into the dishwasher when he came back inside. “Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just some work shit.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“What kind of work shit?” I asked.
“Pass,” he said, not even turning to look at me before he plopped down on the couch and put his feet on the coffee table. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, raising the volume to a level where having any sort of conversation would’ve been impossible. It was like he was using another play out of the Abby Ford Avoidance Hand Book.
I finished the dishes, and by the time I was done wiping the counters, Jake was already asleep in the recliner. I took the throw from the back of the couch and set it over him. I located the linen closet and found what I needed to set up the couch. I had no idea how to pull it out so I decided to make it up as it was. I tucked a fitted sheet around the cushions and used a top sheet and light blanket to lay over it. I took one of the two pillows from the bed and made sure it was there on the couch for him when he woke up in the recliner and realized what painful angle his neck was in. It was all turned down for him, just waiting for him to hop in.
I got myself ready for bed and was brushing my teeth when my thoughts drifted to the conversation he had on the phone outside earlier. Why had he been whispering? What was he hiding? Was he a private detective or a bounty hunter? A million scenarios ran through my head, but not one I came up with seemed right.
The first night I met Jake, just a few days ago, he’d held a gun to my head. The bulge of his gun was always noticeable to me now that I knew that he kept it tucked into the back of his jeans.
There was a reason he wouldn’t tell me what he did for a living.
He wasn’t embarrassed by what he did. He was simply hiding it. After listening in on his conversation, all signs pointed to the reason for that secrecy being far darker than I originally thought.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT DAY WAS MY FIRST DAY working at the shop. When I woke up, I found a note Jake had left for me, telling me he was already working and that I should meet him over there when I was ready. I showered. I pulled my hair back into a simple braid and put on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. I pushed my feet into my boots, but decided against wearing my hoodie in an attempt to look somewhat professional. It was the best I could manage with what I had. I grabbed my hoodie and brought it with me anyway, just in case I felt the need to hide in it.
I reported to the office Reggie had told me was mine the day before. Since the shop didn’t officially open for another half an hour, I took the opportunity to organize the clutter and dust off the furniture. I felt like someone was staring at me as I worked, and when I turned around, sure enough, I saw Jake through the blinds, wiping the grease off a wrench with a rag and smiling at me through the window. I didn’t take my gaze from him until the phone rang and snapped me out of my fog.
“Good morning. Dunn’s Garage,” I answered the way Reggie had instructed.
***
The entire day flew by so quickly, I barely had time to finish the coffee and donut Jake brought me while I was on the phone making an appointment for a tune-up on Mrs. Grabel’s Chevy. Jake had checked in on me a few times, and each time I saw him he had more grease on his face and coveralls. I scheduled all the appointments, answered the phones, placed orders brought to me on tickets the guys scribbled on, and at noon, I ran across the street to get lunch for all four mechanics. They were grateful but ate while they worked. I had a feeling they were used to the craziness and may have eaten a little grease with their sandwiches.
Jake had taken the truck after lunch and didn’t come back for a couple of hours. I figured he was out getting parts or running shop-related errands. I reminded myself to tell him I would be more than happy to run his errands so he wouldn’t have to.