Braving The Heat. Regan Black

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СКАЧАТЬ a solid reputation and people were calling from all over the region to get their cars on his restoration schedule.

      “Unless you hire a female mechanic, you’ll never meet a nice girl under the hood of a car.” His mother’s voice broke into his thoughts. Myra Galway had a way of saying things that slid right past his defenses and lingered, mocking him with her maternal logic. If only his mom would admit there was more to life than filling lonely hours with pointless chatter with women who sneered at his stained fingernails and the rough calluses on his palms.

      At the burly doorman’s arched eyebrow, Stephen gave his name and was quickly waved inside.

      The bold, heavy sounds of the metal band onstage slammed into him and battered away at the discontent that persistently dogged Stephen since his fiancée’s death. He leaned into the music, weaving through the crowd until he reached Mitch’s station at the service end of the bar, closer to the kitchen.

      His brother eyed him and popped the top off a bottle of beer, setting it in front of him between serving other patrons. Good. Stephen wasn’t in much of a talking mood. The delayed conversation was no surprise, considering the sea of humanity supporting the band from all corners of the club.

      “Took you long enough,” Mitch said at the first lull between customers. “You might be here awhile.”

      Stephen checked his watch. He’d said an hour or so and had hit the mark precisely. “How come?” he asked, though he didn’t care about the time, since the band was as good as Mitch had promised.

      “No way I can get out there right now. This set just started.”

      Stephen shrugged and swiveled around on the bar stool to watch the band. They were good, from the sound to the showmanship. He was enjoying the music, the process of being still and people-watching. Waitresses in khaki shorts and bright blue T-shirts emblazoned with the Escape Club logo brushed by him with friendly glances and quick greetings as they exchanged trays of empty bottles and glassware for the fresh orders Mitch filled with startling efficiency. From Stephen’s vantage point everyone in the club seemed to be focused on excellent customer service. Sullivan had definitely created an outstanding atmosphere.

      “Do you always ignore the signals?” Mitch asked when another waitress walked off, tray perfectly balanced.

      “What are you talking about?”

      Mitch shook his head. “Signals from interested women,” he said. “If you’d pay attention, you’d see it for yourself.”

      “Please. Not you, too.” Stephen glared at his little brother. “You know I’ve got too much work to spare time for dating.”

      “Uh-huh.” Mitch slid another city-wide special across the bar to a customer and marked the tab. “Then I’m sorry I called you. Another beer?”

      “Water,” Stephen answered, then checked his watch again. The band would probably take a break soon. He drained the glass of water Mitch provided and pushed back from the bar. “Tell your friend I’m waiting out in the truck. No rush. Thanks for the beer.”

      “Stephen, wait.”

      Not a chance. What was it with married people? His parents and married siblings were ganging up on him lately, and being relentless about it. Was there some statute of limitations on grief he didn’t know about? He’d tried believing that crappy philosophy of it being better to have loved and lost, and couldn’t pull it off. He’d loved, he’d lost everything and it sucked.

      They kept wanting him to be happy, checking in on him week after week, never letting it rest. Was he happy? He didn’t know. At this point he wasn’t sure he cared about happiness. Business was good. Booming, in fact. If that was enough happiness for him, his family should back off. Not everyone got a happy ending. He’d accepted that hard truth; why couldn’t they?

      “Hey! Stephen Galway?”

      Nearly to the truck, he turned at the sound of his name. Recognizing the waitress uniform, he was tempted to ignore the slender blonde jogging his way with a long, ground-eating stride. His brother earned points for tenacity. Stephen made a note to punch him at the earliest opportunity.

      “You are Stephen, right?”

      “That’s right. And you are?” The lamp overhead cast her features in shadow, illuminating pale hair pulled back from her face. He remembered seeing her in the bar. She was the one with the long braid that fell to the middle of her back, and great legs anchoring that willowy body.

      “Kenzie Hughes.” She stuck out her hand, then let it fall when he didn’t reach out to meet her halfway. “You probably don’t remember me.”

      “Should I?” The name wasn’t ringing any bells.

      “Guess not. I was in the same high school class as Mitch.”

      Stephen was ready to march back into the club and punch his brother right now for orchestrating this elaborate setup. He had work to do without dragging the tow truck out on a wild-goose chase. What bad idea or wrong impression had Mitch planted in her head? He stared at her, struggling for a polite way out of this. It wasn’t her fault his brother was an idiot.

      “Um, anyway,” she continued, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” She pulled keys from her pocket. “The car’s right over here.”

      Now he felt like a complete jerk. Stephen had assumed he’d be helping out one of Mitch’s male buddies. “Great.” He fell in behind her and put his mind back in car mode. “Let’s take a look.”

      He tried not to wince when he saw the vehicle. Not his business what people chose to drive, and people who drove rust buckets like this one made up a core segment of his business. He let her explain Mitch’s opinion of the situation while he listened to a whole lot of nothing going on in her engine. Something didn’t smell right under the normal scents of oil and gas.

      “If Mitch couldn’t get you running here, we’re better off hauling it in.” He dropped the hood, checked the latch. “Do you have a way to get home?”

      She climbed out of the car and he noticed the interior was packed with boxes and suitcases. He couldn’t imagine Sullivan allowing any of his employees to live out of their car, and if she was doing so, she hadn’t left much room for herself.

      “I’ll be fine,” she said, her gaze sliding to the crammed interior. “Here.” She handed over the keys. “I’ll get your number from Mitch and call you tomorrow.”

      “One second.” Hughes, PFD, female. It all clicked into place and embarrassment flooded through Stephen. “You’re Mackenzie Hughes.”

      Her entire body went on the defensive in one fluid movement. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

      “No.” He couldn’t believe he didn’t recognize her in the club. Her name was at the center of a public debate about the ability of female firefighters. In person, her height and poise were evident and she looked far more capable than she did on television, where the images provided focused on her photogenic and fine-boned, feminine face.

      “Of course not,” he reiterated, when she cocked an eyebrow at his long perusal. He’d heard his brother rant more than once in Kenzie’s favor. Like most people of his acquaintance, Stephen thought the gender bias was in the past. “I’ll СКАЧАТЬ