âAre you only helping me because you feel sorry for me?â
Bob gazed into Georgetteâs blue eyes. Of course he felt badly about the way her father had rejected her, because she wanted to build a life of her own. Actually, he felt proud of her, too.
And yet, he didnât feel at peace with what was happening between them.
Until now, Georgette hadnât had to work. She could have lived a life of leisure, and it wouldnât have been wrong.
But now, all that was gone.
That a working-class guy like him could be her employer was one of lifeâs cruel jokes. For now, having to work and save money to get what she wanted, and even the necessities of daily life, was a novelty. Very soon, that thrill would wear offâ¦.
Falling in love with someone from the other side of the tracks only worked in romance novels and fairy tales.
The electronic tone of the door chime echoed through the shop.
Bob Delanio laid his wrench down on the tool caddy, wiped his hands on his coveralls, then walked into the reception area of his auto-repair shop.
âNeed some help?â he asked his newest customer, trying not to sound as tired as he felt.
The phone rang. Both lines lit up at the same time.
âOops, âscuse me,â Bob mumbled as he picked up the receiver. âBob And Bartâs, can you hold?â He pushed the button and answered the second line. âBob And Bartâs. Yeah. Hold on.â Bob hit the hold button, walked a few steps, and poked his head around the corner.
âBart!â he yelled. âGet line two. Itâs Josh McTavish.â
Bob nodded at the man still waiting at the counter. The chime sounded again. Just as Bob picked up the phone to talk to the first caller, a man who a week ago had ignored Bobâs warning that he needed a new head gasket stomped in. Bob glanced through the door to see a tow truck outside, the driver waiting to be told what bay to back the manâs car into.
Bob gritted his teeth. It appeared he was going to spend yet another Friday night working until midnight.
He handled the latest influx, then did his best to juggle his time between the door, the phone, and actually getting some work done.
At seven oâclock, an hour past their posted closing, Bart finally had the time to flip the switch on the sign on the door to Closed. Despite that positive turn, neither of them would be leaving just yet.
âThis is nuts,â Bart grumbled as he dropped some change into the pop machine for a cold drink. âWe canât keep this up.â
Falling backwards onto the worn couch, Bob stretched out his aching feet. âI know. Itâs great that business is picking up, but Iâm exhausted.â He extended one arm toward the unfinished work orders lined up on the board. âNo matter what time we get out of here, weâll have to be back at five in the morning.â
âMy wife isnât very pleased about these long hours. At least youâre still single,â Bart retorted.
âMaybe this is why Iâm still single.â
Bart turned to look outside at the row of cars they had promised their customers they could pick up sometime within the next twenty-four hours. âWe have to hire some help.â
The growing pile of invoices and purchase orders on the counter, spurred Bobâs reply. âI was just thinking the same thing.â
Bart turned and walked behind the counter. He grabbed a blank piece of paper and pulled a pen out of his pocket. âThe newspaper charges by the word, donât they? What should I say? Wanted. Light-duty mechanic?â
Without leaving the couch, Bob scanned the boxes of orders, requisitions, receipts and charge bills to be submitted, as well as deposit slips from the bank. âWeâre busy, but weâre not busy enough to add another full-time mechanic. If we hire a bookkeeper, then that frees us up to get more done in the shop.â
Bart scratched his head, pen in hand. âBut there are decisions a bookkeeper canât make, stuff one of us would have to decide. Besides, we donât have enough paperwork to keep someone busy full-time. When all this stuff is caught up, we canât afford to pay someone just to sit here and answer the phone.â
âWeâre nearly a week behind even on the small jobs,â Bob said, gesturing at the work orders piled under pushpins on their work board. âIâve got an overhaul thatâs been waiting three days. I guess youâre right. We need a mechanic.â