“Wyatt is his personal mechanic, apparently he is a genius with an engine. He’s been working on my dad’s collection since I was in middle school. Guess he grew up.” Boy did he ever grow up, or maybe I did, but looking at Wyatt now was not the same as the way I looked at him when I was a child.
"Well, I wouldn't mind him tinkering with my motor," Gianna giggled. She made a video of him out the window and turned the camera on herself and fake swooned. She acted like she was a reality star and captured every mundane minute of her life to share with her followers.
"He's probably some low-life who never graduated high school," Alexandra said, crowding behind trying to get a better view. "Whoa, he is a sexy AF though," she exclaimed under her breath.
"Careful, Alexandra, get mixed up with a guy like him and you’ll lose your trust fund," I said. Letting the large drapes close, I took a step back from the window. I didn't know why but I didn’t like them looking at Wyatt like he was an item on display. He’d been a loyal employee to my dad for years and I even remember him giving me suckers at garage when my dad went in to speak with Wyatt’s dad. He was a good guy, a hard worker, and Dad always gushed about what a genius he was under the hood of a car. Alexandra and Gianna both acted like everything belonged to them and it was their birthright to stare or tear down or react in whatever mood struck. They expected the same from me, but I had my own self-imposed limits.
"I think you should tap that, Harley," Gianna said. She was editing her video. “Hot gear head caught on camera,” she said as she typed a caption for her video. She moved to the side of the room and peeked out another window.
"Why can't they make rich boys like that? Can you imagine him in bed? He looks like the kind of guy that would pull your hair and fuck hard."
"What's the matter, Gianna? Adam doesn't fuck you like that?" Alexandra asked her.
"God no, all he does is lay on top of me and flop a couple of time until he comes. If I didn’t have my vibrator I’d never get off. I’m not with Adam for the orgasms."
“Maybe you should make a TikTok about that? You know, go with the self-help angle and sexual positivity movement? ” Alexandra suggested.
“No thanks, but fuck you very much,” Gianna said, giving her the finger.
"Why are you even with him?" I asked. It was frustrating to hear Gianna speak poorly of Adam day in and day out; she never had anything nice to say about her steady boyfriend of the last two years. Adam was a nice guy, a little boring maybe, but nice all the same. He definitely deserved better than a significant other bad mouthing him behind his back every second she got. Gianna acted sweet, but she was vicious when it came down to it. Loyal only to herself, everyone was viewed as a target if she had something to gain from it.
"Ummm? He's loaded. His dad is a senator, and Adam will be a top dog in politics one day, too. It's his legacy."
"You're only twenty- two, Gianna. You're already planning on staying with Adam for the rest of your life?" Alexandra asked.
“Even though you don’t like him,” I added, rolling my eyes.
"I don't bust my ass to look this this,” she motioned to her figure, “just to become some nobody soccer mom driving an SUV," Gianna said emphatically. She moved away from the window and scrolled to see her post engagement.
I stepped close to the glass and stared at the man again. I had seen him around the estate from time to time over the years. He always had his head bent low, not paying attention to anything other than the machines he was working on. Not once did he ever do more than throw a casual wave my way when our paths crossed. Apparently, I was invisible to him just like I was to everyone else who lived or worked in this house. And now that I thought about it, I guess I was just as guilty of treating him like he was invisible too.
Wyatt had moved the Porsche he was working on out of the garage and into the driveway. I guess on this stiflingly hot day, there was more of a breeze outside than there was in Daddy’s car museum.
I watched how his tanned skin glowed in the hot sun and the way his muscles pulled as he worked, head down, tool in hand. He started the car and then got out again. Leaned his ear to the engine and listened with his eyes closed. I wondered what his story was. I’d heard my dad say multiple times that Wyatt was the best mechanic he’d ever known, better even than his father and uncle who’d taught him the trade. Apparently, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix and he was fairly sought after. But my dad killed the competition by being close to home for Wyatt and paying him an extraordinarily high rate to get the best care for his precious babies.