Shelby tried not to tap her toe impatiently as she stood in line of the upholstery store.
A bald old man at the front of the line had been talking to the store clerk behind the counter for quite some time.
Her eyes traced around the room as the men talked in hushed whispers, no doubt discussing price.
The gray linoleum had a flecked pattern that did its best to hide shoe scuff marks and oil stains, and the pleasant smell of worn leather hung in the air. A workshop was visible behind the open door just past the register where several tables manned with large scale sewing machines and chairs sat ready for handy work.
Pictures of family and happy customers lined the walls with large rings of various upholstery sample swatches. It was a decades old shop that bore the marks of being well used and well loved.
She checked her watch again. Her lunch break ended in thirty minutes and she wouldn't have time to come back till the weekend.
Finally the bald man exited the building and the line shuffled forward. After another few minutes passed and it was finally her turn. Shaking off the anxiety of the ticking clock, Shelby approached the counter with a full smile.
With half acknowledgement towards her, the older man then looked at his own watch and called into the back room, "Nacho! Take front." Before exiting out the side.
A man popped up from behind one of the sewing machines and hurried to the front. They exchanged a quick sidebar in Spanish before Nacho turned to her, an unenthused look in his eye. "How can I help you?"
A woman standing behind her in line pushed in front of Shelby once Nacho took the front counter. She began rattling in machine gun Spanish, but her anxious strung out mannerisms made Shelby step back.
Nacho's face went hard and he said something low and slow.
The girl started to protest. With shaky fingers she pushed the sweaty hair from her face and took a step back. "Fine. Screw you."
Nacho put his palms on the counter and watched the woman exit with an expression hard as granite.
As soon as the door chimed again he swallowed and turned his attention back to Shelby.
"Right." Shelby took in a deep breath, perplexed by the whole exchange. Having dealt with cranky customers of her own, she knew how exhausting that was. She tried to take the opportunity to change the mood.
Shelby tried to remain polite and chipper as she explained how she needed new leather upholstery on the front two seats of her car.
Without a word, Nacho scooped up the ring of swatches and stalked out the side door.
Furrowing her brow, "Okay," Shelby followed after him. "It's over here." She led him over to the 1965 Ford Falcon Futura.
He paused in front of the car, raising an eyebrow. "This is your car?"
"Yes." Shelby smiled proudly. "I've had her since she was a pile of scap."
He ran a hand delicately over the crisp ice blue hood and back towards the polished chrome of the front door. Examining the car from front to back, his jaw clenched as eyes traveled the length of the car then from the car towards her. As his gaze meandered from her splotchy coveralls to her face, he looked as though he was studying every detail. His eyes weren't predatory, but piercing methodical assessment.
Finally he said, "must have been a big cat." and pointed to the torn seats.
"Yup. Ferrel ones just outside the bodega on seventy fifth. I'm thankful they didn't do worse." Shelby quickly checked her watch again.
Nacho opened the door and examined the slashes on the seats, then flipped through the wheel of swatches briefly before he held out two. "This one matches closest to the type of leather you have, but since it's not black and more of a midnight blue, we'll likely have to custom match from this dye base." He held out the second swatch. "It's not too expensive, around a thousand. Do you want me to get an exact estimate or proceed with the work?" He said matter of fact, clasping his hands behind him, waiting for her answer.
Shelby rubbed the bridge of her nose. She didn't have a thousand for rent, let alone repairs for a personal vehicle. "I'll have to think about it."
He continued to stand there motionless, all except his eyes passing over the car once again in silent scrutiny.
"Shit." She said under her breath, absentmindedly rubbing her forearm. The pin pricks of pain forming again as she was between medication times.
"If you a few minutes, I can get you an exact estimate." He tilted his head as his eyes turned to her. "You built this?"
"Yeah." Shelby's lips parted in a smile. "I've kept as many original parts as I could find. I'm hoping to have her all original one day. Except–" Shelby glanced at her watch again and clicked her tongue a few times at the minute hand racing forward.
"You're lucky they didn't get the piping along the edges. I don't see this type of silver vinyl anymore and it's almost impossible to find." He offered with a positive tone and a shrug.
"Ugh, talk about impossible. I still have a good 25% of this engine to replace in impossible to find parts." Shelby gestured towards the hood.
"Only that much left?" His voice gained lifted enthusiasm.
Shelby's chest swelled with pride. "Dude. You say only like getting there didn't kick my ass." She walked over to the hood and hefted it open. Aftermarket parts-" She stopped herself, not wanting to insult. She understood how aftermarket parts were usually all that other classic enthusiasts could afford.
"Yeah, these aftermarket parts are shit." He rolled his eyes and came over to look under the hood. "I have to replace them every few years in my '73 Javelin." He pointed over the cars in the lot towards a cherry red 1973 AMC Javelin AMX with a white roof and gleaming chrome wheels.
"Did you build that? It's beautiful." Shelby raised her eyebrows and was surprised she hadn't seen it when she pulled in. It was beautiful and well cared for. If her lunch break wasn't screeching to a halt she'd go over there and stare at it for an hour.
The corners of his lips faintly twitched into a smile. "I did. I've been working on it since I was fifteen."
Shelby let out a low whistle tone.
Nacho leaned over the engine examining the chrome finishings of the cylinder heads. "I can't find the original crankshaft with balancing lobes for mine, this side of four grand."
Shelby couldn't help it and broke into a grin. "Right! I have the same problem with this. The really tricky one for me is the valvetrain. I don't think I'll ever find one this side of hell."
Nacho looked down and gave a little laugh. It was a nice break from his otherwise stoney expression. He paused a moment, rubbing the top of his practically shaved head in thought.
Shelby couldn't help but notice his muscled arm from under his work shirt. It lifted up, and showed a very pleasing musculature underneath.
He turned away, looking back at the shop, and she saw beneath the shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants was the handle of a gun.
Or at least she thought it could be.
Before she was able to tell fully, he turned back around. "Listen," Nacho lowered his voice, and leaned forward, his palms resting on the hood of the car. "We had an over order from another job and have some leftovers we can use towards yours." He was deep in thought another moment before he said, "I don't know if we can match the color exactly, but I can make sure it looks good and it will only cost you about half of what it should."
Shelby blinked hard and rocked back on her heels. "Seriously? That's great! I mean– thank you so much!" Shelby breathed a sigh of relief and leaned her elbow against the door. Thankful to have finally caught a break.
"Just don't tell anyone." Nacho stuck his hand out towards her, the side of his mouth moved slightly to a grin. "From one enthusiast to another."
She clasped it with a broad smile, "hell yeah, Nacho!"
"Ignacio." He offered, shifting a little before he scooped up his leather swatches and took a step back. "And we can take the car as soon as tomorrow evening."
"Shelby." She closed the hood with a smooth metal clang. "I'll see you then."
She didn't stop smiling all the way back to the shop.