“So, if you still have a job here, does that mean we have to break up?”
I shook my head and pulled her into my arms. “If we broke up, that would break your heart, and then Roc would break all of my fingers.”
“But… does…” She pointed at Roc’s office. “You mean you still work here and he’s not going to kill you for dating me?”
“It’s all good, baby. I get my dream job and my dream girl.”
Roc’s door swung open. “One more thing,” he barked. “You two may be dating, but that don’t mean you two have to be all over each other all of the time.” He circled his finger around in front of him. “This is my zone. None of that bullshit I walked in on the other day. You hear me?”
I nodded and looked down at Harlyn. “I’m good with that in about twenty seconds.”
“Twenty seconds? What in the hell do you mean by that?” Roc demanded.
Harlyn knew exactly what I meant.
She reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against mine.
“For fuck’s sake,” Roc hollered. His door slammed, and I knew he wasn’t going to stick around for the next seventeen seconds.
I delved my fingers into Harlyn’s hair and thanked my lucky stars for weak car batteries and Harlyn Krinston.
*
Chapter 34
Frankie
“Frankie, your phone is ringing.”
I lifted my head from my pillow and saw it was only seven-thirty in the morning.
Luke was standing over my bed with my ringing phone in his hand. “Doesn’t say who it is.”
Gah. It was probably Remy or Jay calling from the shop. I grabbed the phone from Luke and swiped right to answer it. “Hello,” I mumbled.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, you got me.”
“This is Brooks Cummings.”
The End
Holeshot
Chapter One
Frankie
“What in the hell are you doing?”
I looked up from my overflowing bowl of cereal. “Eating.”
Luke leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounded like a bull in a china shop with the way you were slamming cupboards and stomping around.”
I whipped open the silverware drawer and nabbed a spoon. “I’m really not in the mood for whatever you have to say right now, Luke.”
“Well, how about you don’t waste all of my cereal by dumping it on the counter, and then you get in the mood to listen to me.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to the massive fridge. “Shouldn’t you be in bed with Violet?”
“Was until I heard your damn phone going off in the living room.”
“Should have ignored it.” I turned back to my bowl and bumped into Luke who was emptying half of the cereal I poured back into the container. He then swept the overflow back into the bowl. “You didn’t need to do that,” I growled. I was twenty-seven, and he still tried to act like my dad.
He grabbed the container of cereal and walked over to the open pantry. “I know I didn’t need to do that, Frank, but I did it. Just like you know you don’t need to be an ass to me right now, but you still are.”
I splashed the milk into the bowl and slammed it down on the counter. “What is going to be the fastest way to get rid of you?”
He pointed to the stools under the kitchen island. “Sit your ass down and tell me what in the hell is going on.”
“I quit my job, Luke. There isn’t much else to say.” I grabbed the precariously full bowl and set it in front of the stool at the end. “I just need a little time to figure out what I’m going to do, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” I pulled out the stool, sat down, and looked at my bowl. “Can you ha—” The spoon I grabbed before appeared in front of my face. “Thank you,” I mumbled. I snatched it from Luke’s hand and dug into my cereal, hoping he would leave me alone now.
The stool next to me moved back, and Luke sat down. “Who called you this morning?”
I looked over at him. “God. He wants me to join a nunnery. Nunnville.”
“Nunnery?” He chuckled and shook his head. "You're going to have to do better than that."
“I also agreed to take a vow of silence. Go away.” I turned back to my bowl and bowed my head to shovel in a spoonful.
“Who called you, Frank?”
Luke obviously wasn’t going to buy the story that God had requested my nun services. “Brooks Cummings.”
“And what did he want?” He tried to coax out of me.
I shrugged.
“Frank.”
“I don’t know what he wanted, Luke.” Lord have mercy. I didn’t understand why Luke was so stuck on this. I didn’t plan to be in his and Violet’s hair longer than a couple of weeks. It had been a week since I pulled up to the shop, and it seemed like he was chomping at the bit for me to be gone.
“He’s your damn boss, Frank.”
“I hung up on him.” I threw my hands up in the air, and milk dripped off the spoon in midair. “And, he’s not my boss anymore because I quit.”
“Why?” he demanded.
I grabbed my bowl of cereal and pushed back my stool as I stood. “He’s a dick, Luke. The kind that thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen and not under the body of a dragster. I tried to work for him. After four months of working tirelessly to get his car dialed in, for him to give all the credit and thanks to Roc was too much. Hell, Jay got a thank you for saving the day when he ran to get a part. All I got after I installed said part, was to clean my tools while Brooks gushed over Roc getting the job done.”
“Roc is the crew chief, Frank. You know in the end, he’s the one who’s in charge so it’s natural for Brooks to talk to him about the car, whether it be good or bad.”
I stalked over to the sink and dumped my less-than-half-eaten bowl of cereal down the disposal. Talking about Brooks ruined my appetite and pissed me off. “I think that is bullshit, Luke. You mean to tell me that everyone who brings their car in should assume you do all the work and not Mitch or Raul?”
“That’s not the same thing, Frankie. You know how the racing world operates. No one knows the name of the clutch assistant or engine guy. It’s the driver and his crew chief.”
“To the people sitting in the stands, yeah, that’s all they know. But I think the fucking guy behind the wheel should know who is doing what to his car.” I pointed to the TV that had the Speed channel on playing a drag race from three years ago. “Those cars run because of the people no one knows about. I make those fucking cars run, and if Brooks fucking Cummings doesn’t care to know my name, then I don’t want to be working on his piece of shit car.”
“Uh, good morning.” Violet stood at the edge of the kitchen with Rose cradled in her arms and Ash standing next to her. “I see you finally got her to talk.”
“You swear more than Uncle Kurt,” Ash declared. He shuffled past me and opened the pantry.
“Doubtful,” I muttered. I was tempted to say, “fucking doubtful,” but I knew that would get me a glare from Luke.