"Experienced technician wanted," the ad had said. Just three little lines squeezed between two computer tech jobs, but Brian's eyes had zoomed in on every word.

EXPERIENCED TECHNICIAN WANTED. JENKINS CUSTOM AND SPECIALTY AUTO. CALL FOR INTERVIEW.

Brian O'Connor sat up a little straighter in his chair, back facing the door of the modest office. Behind the desk sat Mr. Robert Jenkins, owner of Jenkins Custom and Specialty Auto. He was an older man, at least sixty years old, with a head full of snow white hair. His kind eyes smiled at the younger man.

"I didn't get many answers to my ad," Mr. Jenkins commented as his eyes shifted back down the Brian's resume. As if answering to the raised eyebrow across from him, he added, "I intended it that way."

Only the desperate need apply, Brian couldn't help saying to himself as he played with a piece of paper that had been in his chair.

"Police force," the man read out loud. He looked up. "What made you decide to leave that and pursue a career in auto mechanics?"

That was the question that had haunted Brian for weeks. Why did he quit? Why was it that he felt so much more at home with his head under the hood of a car than with his hand on a badge? He had dreamed of becoming a detective since he was old enough to know what detectives did, yet everything had changed. And he knew there was no going back.

"I had an undercover job about a month ago," Brian started, holding the old man's gaze. "It taught me a lot of things about cars and about myself, but mostly I learned that black and white don't always apply. Some people live in the grey areas by default. Sometimes even the bad guys aren't bad."

Mr. Jenkins nodded and left it at that, but his eyes showed that, on some level, he understood exactly what the other was saying.

"I'll tell you what I'm looking for," he said after a final contemplative moment, mostly spent studying Brian and not his previous work efforts. "Business is booming and I can barely keep up. I need someone who can pick up the extra workload and help me hold things together. Mostly, I need someone who'll be in for the long run." With a chuckle he added, "I'm not in my twenties anymore."

Brian leaned forward a little in his seat and clasped his hands together. "Whatever you need me to do, I can do it."

Mr. Jenkins laughed merrily. "Let's work our way up to that. How about just 'you start Monday'?"

"You mean I have the job?" Brian blinked in his disbelief. "I haven't even shown you my work."

"I always trust my instincts," the man said, rising from his chair just slow enough to show his age and extending his hand. "And my instincts say you are just the man for the job."

When Brian pulled up to the garage at seven o'clock Monday morning, the doors were already open and he could smell freshly brewed coffee. He smiled unconsciously as he took long strides toward a yellow convertible that was having some detail work done. He scanned the area for the owner and ended up nearly running straight into a tall brunette.

"Ah, Brian," Mr. Jenkins called, stepping up from the back of the garage, wiping his hands on an already-soiled cloth. "I see you've met Andrea."

"Andy," the girl corrected, giving the man a look that conveyed some unspoken joke. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Brian replied, slightly at a loss for words. He looked at the other man. "Am I late?"

Mr. Jenkins shook his head. "Not at all. Andrea just likes to get things started early around here. She's a slave driver."

The young woman smiled but then shook her head, rolled her eyes and turned and started polishing the hood of a car.

"Follow me, Brian," Mr. Jenkins said, giving Andrea a pat on the shoulder as they walked toward the office.

Brian lifted a stack of paperwork from the chair he had sat in several days before and pulled it back from the desk a little before sitting. "I didn't realize you had any other employees."

"Andrea's not really an employee," the other answered as he looked through the papers on his desk.

"Is she your daughter?"

Mr. Jenkins shook his head. "I knew her grandfather. He had me change his oil once a month for thirty years straight. Andrea does odd jobs for me around here and, in exchange, I teach her about cars."

"So she doesn't know anything?" Brian asked. "I mean, she doesn't take any of the jobs?"

"Oh, she knows a lot, but she's still got a ways to go. Sometimes I give her the small stuff, though. You don't have to worry about her getting in your way."

Brian raised his hand in protest. "No! I didn't mean-"

The older man only chuckled pleasantly. "My opinion of you is safely fixed, don't fret." He paused and sat motionless for a moment before placing a notepad in front of his new employee. "When a new job comes in, we write all the details on this sheet."

Brian scanned the paper, a detailed form with check-boxes for anything from "chrome wheels" to "leather interior" to "key-less entry".

"If it's not on there, there's a large blank box on the back where you can notate it." Mr. Jenkins flipped the paper over and pointed as he spoke. "The key is to be as detailed as possible to avoid any mix-ups. And to make sure and get all the customer's pertinent info like address and phone number if it's their first time using us."

"Sounds fairly simple."

"That's the idea."

Mr. Jenkins showed Brian a few more things in the office--places to file completed sheets, the key to the cooler--and then took him back into the garage. There was a large bulletin board on the wall just outside the office and it was already covered with detail sheets. "We'll start you on Mr. McAllister's Caddy--that should be an easy first job." He pulled the appropriate sheet off the board and handed it to Brian.

"Oil change, new headlight, air in tires," Brian read aloud. He looked at Mr. Jenkins, a bit confused. "I thought this was a custom shop."

"One thing you'll learn here is that the regulars can get whatever they want," interjected Andrea as she came to tack a new sheet on the board. She looked at her boss. "Mrs. Jackson got her keys stuck in her lock. Again."

The man rolled his eyes and laughed lightly. "I'd better handle this. Andrea will answer any questions you have, Brian." He turned and started toward the outdoors where they could all see a slightly plump, middle-aged woman waiting patiently next to an aging Mustang.