“Wow. Let me think about it.”
“Sure. Like I said, it’s all unpaid, so just do what you want.”
“I’ll let you know next week.”
“Perfect. Now, you better get on your way. The final bell’s about to ring. If you’re not careful, you won’t be able to get out of the parking lot for another twenty minutes.”
Kimber grabbed her purse and coat. “See you soon,” she said before rushing down the hallway. After making a quick stop at the volunteer desk, she trotted out to the parking lot.
Her pace slowed as she realized it was too late—she was going to be there for quite a while. There was already a long line of parents waiting to pick up kids.
Then she stopped at her brand-new, gleaming-white, all-wheel-drive Mercedes. Two of the tires were flat.
Flat like she wasn’t going to be anywhere anytime soon. Flat like they’d been slashed on purpose.
And then she spied a familiar-looking note with the familiar-
looking handwriting tucked under one of the windshield wipers.
Peter Mohler had found her again.
Standing there in the middle of the Bridgeport Elementary parking lot, Kimber tried her hardest not to burst into tears.
CHAPTER 2
“Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind but now I see.”
—john newton
Never in his life had Gunnar Law seen such a pretty woman have such a royal hissy fit in a school parking lot. He’d been sitting in the parent pick up line, flipping through the radio stations, trying to find one that wasn’t already playing Christmas music—honestly doing nothing but biding his time until he could pick up Jeremy and get home.
He’d been bored, a little stressed, thinking about the car he could have been working on at the shop . . . when, there she was. A tall woman, at least five foot nine, slim, with gorgeous hair that hung in rich, dark waves to her shoulder blades. She had on dark jeans, black boots, an ivory sweater, and a form-fitting light-blue parka.
She was stunning, there was no other word for it. Heck, he hadn’t even known that word was in his vocabulary until it popped into his head.
Sitting behind the tinted windows of his Chevy truck, he watched every step she took. Then, in spite of the distance, he found himself worrying about her when she drew to an abrupt halt in front of a gleaming-white Mercedes sedan, dropped open her mouth and froze.
For a split second there, he’d been sure she was petrified.
She inhaled deeply, preparing to let out a full-on scream, but then she seemed to catch herself at the very last minute. To his surprise, she covered her mouth with one gloved hand and stomped her feet. It was kind of cute.
It was also kind of odd.
He didn’t know a lot of beautiful Mercedes-driving women—okay, he didn’t know any beyond the ones who owned the cars he worked on—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t tell when something was wrong. He finally looked down where she was staring.
Two flat tires.
And he knew right away that he wasn’t looking at two tires that had come into contact with a couple of stray nails on the road. No, someone had done some real damage to her car.
beep.
He jumped, then realized he was holding up the car line. He moved forward, catching sight of Jeremy standing off to the side. The boy looked calm and a little removed from his surroundings.
This wasn’t new.
As far as Gunnar could tell, the kid wasn’t ever bothered in the slightest to be the only high schooler in the vicinity. This time, he was also staring in the same direction as the small group of elementary age kids. He, along with at least half of the young kids, was watching the riled-up woman.
Rolling down his window, he called out to him. “Jeremy?”
The boy immediately stepped forward and climbed inside the truck.
“Hey,” Gunnar said. “You good?” he asked as the boy tossed his backpack in the back of the cab and buckled up.
“Yeah.” He paused, then blurted, “I was just watching Miss Klein. Gunnar, I think something’s wrong with her car. She looks real upset.”
“Are you talking about that woman who’s standing next to the white Mercedes?”
“Yeah.”
“I noticed her too.” He pulled over to the side so the cars behind him could leave. “Now, who is she? I don’t remember you mentioning her before.”
“Miss Klein is a volunteer in the library. She reads stories to the kids while I shelve books. She’s nice.” Still watching her, he added, “She’s usually kind of quiet too. I’ve never seen her so mad.”
Noticing that she was currently staring at her cell phone but not doing much else, Gunnar said, “I was thinking maybe we should see if she needs help. What do you think?”
“I think we’d better do something. She looks pretty confused, Gunnar.”
“All right, then.” He drove back into the parking lot, parked in the first empty spot that his truck would fit into, then looked at Jeremy. “Ready?”
Jeremy didn’t say a word. Just hopped out.
When they got to Miss Klein’s side, she was on the phone but didn’t look any happier. She frowned when they approached, but then smiled at Jeremy. “Hold on a sec, please,” she said to whoever was on the phone. “Hi, Jeremy, right?”
Jeremy nodded. “Yep. We saw your car.”
“I’m on the phone with a car place now.” Sounding aggravated, she added, “I couldn’t believe it, but the dealership said my flat tires weren’t their problem.” As if suddenly remembering that she had put the place on hold, she said, “Oh, shoot. Hold on!”
Gunnar exchanged a glance with Jeremy as they listened to her try to convince whoever was on the line to take care of her problem immediately. She sounded both naive and bossy—the woman pretty clearly had no idea about cars, mechanics, or flat tires. She needed a hand.
Luckily, he was in a position to help. “Excuse me. Ah, Miss Klein?”
She pressed her hand against the face of the phone again. “I’m sorry, yes?”
“I can help you out. Go ahead and tell whoever you’re talking to that you’ve got it handled.”
“But I don’t—”
“It’s okay,” Jeremy blurted. “Gunnar knows how to take care of things.”
Miss Klein stared at him a moment before speaking into the phone again. “Thanks, but I’ve found someone else,” she said as she disconnected.