-6-

I can't decide whether I'm drooling over her or her car more. Don't get me wrong, it looks like shit and runs even worse. But if this thing just had a little TLC, it'd be a beauty. A 1993 Pontiac Firebird, cherry red paint that's faded but nothing a good gloss coat couldn't fix.

Her, on the other hand…

Well, she doesn't need a damn thing to look good.

She's all wide-eyed, curious looks, borderline suspicious like she's not fully confident in my ability to take care of her car—something that means a lot to her.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" She asks, leaning her hip against her taillight and peering down at me while I check out her engine.

"Little lady, I had a wrench in my hand before I could walk. Never seen a car problem I couldn't fix in my life. I was taught by the best." I say without looking up, a small grin on my lips.

"Well, who's the best? Point me in his direction; he sounds like the one I need."

"'Bout a mile down the road in the Covenant Church cemetery. Unless you got some crazy witchy voodoo powers I don't know about, I'm afraid it won't get you anywhere. But don't you worry, darlin', Daddy taught me well. I'm the best living thing for miles." I have to look, now. Can't help it. Can't keep my eyes off her; she's just too fuckin' pretty.

"I'm really sorry to hear that. I lost my dad, too. He was a cop. Line of duty. Ya know, same old story." she shrugs.

"Doesn't make it any easier."

"No...no, it sure doesn't. That's why I try so hard to take care of Seth."

"Little brother?"

"No, his cat. Well, it's my cat now. Here…" She pulls her phone from her back pocket, tapping the screen a few times before holding it out to me.

It's Pilot. A really cute picture of him curled up asleep on the chest of an older guy with a black mustache sitting on a La-Z-Boy.

I don't say a word. I just smile a little and nod, ignoring the twist in my gut because I know I'm gonna have to give up my little buddy.

"What, not a cat guy? No, you're much more the junkyard dog type. Big grizzly mutts that look like they'll take your arm off."

"Not at all, sugar. He's cute. Just not that big on animals."

It only takes me a couple hours to fix her car, but we don't stop talking the whole time. Not about anything, in particular, just talkin'. She's funny and witty. A pretty face with a sharp tongue and the mouth of a sailor. I may take a few too many opportunities to make her bend over and grab tools I don't really need so I can check her out her ass, but I digress.

I even debate pretending like there's more wrong with her car than there really is, just so I can spend more time with her.

But I don't do that.

And when it's time to go, I send her on up with Rose so she can settle her bill, and I head to the back to pick up Pilot.