His Uptown Girl. Gail Sattler

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СКАЧАТЬ at yet another Who’s Who function, Georgette was expected to stand at her father’s side and smile nicely, showing her support of everything he did. Besides his financial empire, the next most important thing to her father was the respect of his peers. After her mother had left him, he’d refused to marry again. He never dated because he was certain that women were only after his money. So, his younger daughter became second-best.

      Georgette’s only escape from her father’s tyranny would be to do what her sister had done—to get married. But God said that marriage was forever. Georgette didn’t want to be under the thumb of a man who was a younger version of her father—a man so critical and demanding he had driven their mother away. Her influential father also sabotaged every attempt she made to find a job, completely nullifying all her attempts to become independent. Not that she needed to worry about money, he gave her a generous allowance in exchange for her work on his charity projects. But Georgette wasn’t happy.

      “Be ready at five-fifteen. Karl will be driving.” With that lofty pronouncement, her father turned and left.

      Georgette crumpled the dress in her closed fists, and raised her head to the ceiling in a silent prayer. She needed to escape, and she had only one place to go, the only place her father left her alone.

      The garage. The garage was her haven. Some women made crafts or baked when they needed something to do. Rebuilding an engine was Georgette’s respite from “society.” She detested being involved with the social climbing of her father’s shallow world.

      Working on the car, she didn’t have to be Georgette Ecklington, socialite. She could simply be, as her friends at the pit crew of the local racetrack circuit called her, George. Today it would help her prepare herself for the ordeal of another taxing night.

      She walked out of the room and handed the dress to Josephine, the housekeeper. “This needs pressing. I have some shopping to do, and then I need to be left alone until it’s time to get dressed.”

      Josephine smiled and nodded. Josephine often covered for Georgette when her father was looking for her.

      Soon Georgette was on her way to an out-of-the-way, but spectacular, auto shop she’d discovered, where the owners frequently found salvaged items from auto wreckers for her. She needed parts for her current project—restoring an old pickup truck she’d bought from one of the families in her church. The man had lost his job and the family needed money. They wouldn’t accept charity, so instead, Georgette had bought the family’s derelict pickup truck for many times more than it was worth, a sum that would keep their mortgage at bay for at least six months. She was now working to restore the truck. Perhaps someday the thing would even run again.

      As she pulled into the shop, Georgette formulated her priorities. In three hours she had to be showered and ready, so she needed to make good use of her time.

      Her thoughts cut off abruptly when she approached the store and saw a cardboard sign in the window.

      HELP WANTED.

      Georgette’s breath caught. She quickened her pace, able to read the smaller print when she stood beside the door.

      Light-duty mechanic.

      She could do that. Fixing and rebuilding engines might just be a hobby, but she did it well. The pros at the race track confirmed it again and again. She’d never tackled a project she couldn’t complete. And unlike the other times her father had ruined her job chances with a phone call, her references could be her friends at the race track. Her father didn’t even know about this place, not that he’d deign to go to an auto shop any way. Georgette said a short prayer that they wouldn’t ask for more, and pushed the door open.

      The phone was ringing, and two customers waited impatiently ahead of her. Bob was behind the counter, taking notes as a woman listed the problems with her car. The voice of Bart, the other proprietor, echoed from the shop, over the noise of the hydraulic hoist, as he called for another customer to come out. Help certainly was wanted at Bob And Bart’s Auto Repair.

      While she waited for her turn, Georgette watched Bob a little more closely. Even though she’d been there before, she’d paid more attention to the spectacular finds he’d made for her than what either of the men looked like.

      He carried himself with confidence as he dealt with his customers. Considering his job, he was relatively tidy in appearance, although his dark hair could use a cut. His olive-green eyes and Roman nose made her suspect an Italian heritage, though, the poster on the wall advertising a discount at Bob’s brother’s Italian restaurant, was a pretty solid hint, too.

      As she stepped ahead in the line, she continued to study Bob.

      He was a good-looking man. When he smiled, the hint of crow’s feet at the corners of those amazing eyes put him at thirtyish.

      After a short conversation, the man ahead of her followed Bob to the opening between the lobby and the shop. Bob called out to Bart, left the man where he was, then returned to his place behind the counter. “Can I help you?” Bob asked as he reached for a blank work order. As he turned to her, his frown turned to a small smile. “Right. I left a message on your cell phone. Your parts are in. I’ll go get them. What’s your name again?”

      Georgette’s stomach quivered. “Ecklington. George Ecklington.”

      His smile widened. “Of course. George. How could I forget? I’ll be right back.”

      “No! Bob! Wait!” Georgette called as he took his first step away.

      When he turned back to her, she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m here for my parts, but I see you’re hiring. I’d like to apply for the job.”

      His smile widened even more. He pulled an application from beneath the counter and slid it toward her. “I didn’t have time to make our own applications, so I borrowed a few from my brother. It says Antonio’s Ristorante at the top, but just cross it out, and write Bookkeeper in the corner so I’ll put it in the right pile.”

      Georgette tried not to let her annoyance show. She didn’t want the bookkeeper’s job. Usually she could understand when people in her father’s circle treated her like a frail little tulip, but to Bob, she was a customer—a customer who frequently bought parts, and installed them. Herself. She didn’t like his assumption, but she’d had to prove herself at the raceway, too.

      However, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t do the bookkeeping. Having been confined to her father’s charities, she’d picked up the skill, including receivables, purchasing and handling the disbursements. She could imagine her father’s blood boiling at the thought of his daughter doing work that paid by the hour. But not a dime of the allowance he’d given her was truly hers.

      This job and its salary, independent of her father, or of anyone who had any association with her father, would be.

      Georgette looked up at Bob, trying to show more confidence than she felt. “Actually, I’d like to apply for both jobs.”

      “Pardon me?”

      “I can do bookkeeping, but I’m also a light-duty mechanic. Your sign said the hours were negotiable. Could two part-time jobs add up to one full-time job?”

      Bob’s smile dropped. “I’m sorry, but we need a real mechanic, not just someone to change oil and check spark plugs.”

      “But СКАЧАТЬ