in the dark another thought.
Which is why I didn’t even bother to dress nicely when I took my Beemer to Triple D’s. I’d been frosting cupcakes to the soundtrack of Lexie’s fussy baby’s screams since six that morning, and was wearing old jeans and a tank top that was splattered in blue food coloring. I didn’t care whether I saw Demo or not. I just wanted to drop my car off and throw a wave in Yiayia’s direction.
“Wait here,” I told Candace, who was waiting in her minivan to take me back to work. The sound of some Barbie DVD was playing in the backseat, and all of her kids—even her son—were staring at the screen hanging from the ceiling with slack jaws. “I don’t think your little ankle biters will mind.”
“Where’s the hottie?” Candace leaned over the top of her steering wheel. “Can I meet him?”
“You sure as hell cannot meet him,” I scolded. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Go jump him!” She laughed. “Have another incident, and make him forget all about the blonde.”
“Whatever,” I hissed. “I’m going in, dropping my keys, and then we’re out of here. Be ready.”
She stifled a giggle. “Got it.”
As I approached the garage doors, Trey wiped his hands on a greasy rag and called, “Welcome back, Marisol!”
“Thank goodness it’s you.” I stalked across the cracked parking lot to give him my keys. “Your uncle called me . You’ve some replacement parts for my car.”
“Right-o.” Trey jerked his chin in the direction of some nearby boxes. “Came in this morning. You gonna wait for us to be finished? Yiayia’s in the office and loves company.”
My heart tugged. My entire life I’d wondered what it was like to have a grandma, and now I was irrationally attached to some old lady I’d met once. But in my defense, Yiayia was really sweet. And that baklava was hella good. “Sorry, no. Not today, Trey. I’ve got to get back to work.”
He flexed a wiry arm. “Don’t you want to see these guns in action ?”
“Nope. My ride is waiting.”
He peered around my shoulder. “The blonde in the van? She’s hot.”
I shook my head. “You think every woman’s hot.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugged and looked at my shirt. “You been killing Smurfs, or something?”
I brushed at the tank, but it did nothing. “No. I’ve got a sweet sixteen party to cater tonight, and the color scheme is blue, blu er, and bluest.”
“And you didn’t bring us some?” Trey shook his head, a smile teasing his mouth. “Man, and my yiayia gave you baklava and everything.”
“Sorry, kid.” I held out my keys. “I’ve got to get back, anyway.”
“Your loss. She made kourabiethes, too.”
I pressed my lips together. I’d had a weakness for the shortbread cookies covered in confectioners ’ sugar and almonds since discovering them at an Orthodox Church bazaar a few years ago. I’d gained five pounds after sitting alone in my house with them for a weekend, and vowed never to indulge in kourabiethes again. Leave it to Yiayia’s cooking to knock me off the wagon.
I chewed my lip. Surely one wouldn’t hurt. “Well, I—”
“Well, if it isn’t her Highness.” Demo emerged from the office, polishing what looked to be a radiator cap—but really, what did I know—with a towel. “Decided to grace us with your presence?”
Irritation stung like a bug bite, but the way Demo looked in his coveralls, open just enough to show some very manly looking chest hair and what appeared to be another tattoo, made up for it. Seriously. Had I known mechanics could look this good, I’d have bought a lemon years ago.
“You left a message.” I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly self-conscious. Girlfriend or not, I wasn’t usually seen in public without a full face of makeup and a couture outfit on. Annalise taught me the value of a pretty lady
Which is why I didn’t even bother to dress nicely when I took my Beemer to Triple D’s. I’d been frosting cupcakes to the soundtrack of Lexie’s fussy baby’s screams since six that morning, and was wearing old jeans and a tank top that was splattered in blue food coloring. I didn’t care whether I saw Demo or not. I just wanted to drop my car off and throw a wave in Yiayia’s direction.
“Wait here,” I told Candace, who was waiting in her minivan to take me back to work. The sound of some Barbie DVD was playing in the backseat, and all of her kids—even her son—were staring at the screen hanging from the ceiling with slack jaws. “I don’t think your little ankle biters will mind.”
“Where’s the hottie?” Candace leaned over the top of her steering wheel. “Can I meet him?”
“You sure as hell cannot meet him,” I scolded. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Go jump him!” She laughed. “Have another incident, and make him forget all about the blonde.”
“Whatever,” I hissed. “I’m going in, dropping my keys, and then we’re out of here. Be ready.”
She stifled a giggle. “Got it.”
As I approached the garage doors, Trey wiped his hands on a greasy rag and called, “Welcome back, Marisol!”
“Thank goodness it’s you.” I stalked across the cracked parking lot to give him my keys. “Your uncle called me . You’ve some replacement parts for my car.”
“Right-o.” Trey jerked his chin in the direction of some nearby boxes. “Came in this morning. You gonna wait for us to be finished? Yiayia’s in the office and loves company.”
My heart tugged. My entire life I’d wondered what it was like to have a grandma, and now I was irrationally attached to some old lady I’d met once. But in my defense, Yiayia was really sweet. And that baklava was hella good. “Sorry, no. Not today, Trey. I’ve got to get back to work.”
He flexed a wiry arm. “Don’t you want to see these guns in action ?”
“Nope. My ride is waiting.”
He peered around my shoulder. “The blonde in the van? She’s hot.”
I shook my head. “You think every woman’s hot.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugged and looked at my shirt. “You been killing Smurfs, or something?”
I brushed at the tank, but it did nothing. “No. I’ve got a sweet sixteen party to cater tonight, and the color scheme is blue, blu er, and bluest.”
“And you didn’t bring us some?” Trey shook his head, a smile teasing his mouth. “Man, and my yiayia gave you baklava and everything.”
“Sorry, kid.” I held out my keys. “I’ve got to get back, anyway.”
“Your loss. She made kourabiethes, too.”
I pressed my lips together. I’d had a weakness for the shortbread cookies covered in confectioners ’ sugar and almonds since discovering them at an Orthodox Church bazaar a few years ago. I’d gained five pounds after sitting alone in my house with them for a weekend, and vowed never to indulge in kourabiethes again. Leave it to Yiayia’s cooking to knock me off the wagon.
I chewed my lip. Surely one wouldn’t hurt. “Well, I—”
“Well, if it isn’t her Highness.” Demo emerged from the office, polishing what looked to be a radiator cap—but really, what did I know—with a towel. “Decided to grace us with your presence?”
Irritation stung like a bug bite, but the way Demo looked in his coveralls, open just enough to show some very manly looking chest hair and what appeared to be another tattoo, made up for it. Seriously. Had I known mechanics could look this good, I’d have bought a lemon years ago.
“You left a message.” I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly self-conscious. Girlfriend or not, I wasn’t usually seen in public without a full face of makeup and a couture outfit on. Annalise taught me the value of a pretty lady
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