Sam chuckled. “Not when you’re fourteen it’s not. Am I right, Mikey?”
He held up a hand and Michael high-fived him, grinning. “Hell, yeah, you’re right.”
“Language,” Mia reminded him.
“I can’t say hell? Seriously?”
“Not in front of me, and definitely not in front of Josh.” Mia lifted an eyebrow.
“It’s okay. He swears all the time when it’s just the two of us,” Josh piped up from where he was playing with LEGOs on the floor.
“Tattletale,” Michael muttered.
“I am not.” Josh folded his arms across his chest.
“It’s bedtime,” Mia told them. A chorus of groans greeted her suggestion.
“I’m not tired,” Josh told her.
Michael crossed his arms. “I’m older than Josh. I should get to stay up later.”
“You can go and read to Josh,” Mia told her eldest son. “And then maybe read something yourself. Give us all some peace.”
And maybe then she’d have some time to think about the ten thousand dollar problem who happened to have eyes that made her breath catch in her throat.
Chapter Five
Mia waved at Josh as he walked into the school yard, then put her Honda Civic in drive and pulled out of the kiss and ride line. School drop offs were so much more civilized here than they ever had been in Kansas City. Half of the kids here walked to school, and a lot of the moms parked in the parking lot and walked their children into the yard, rather than joining the drop off line. Which meant this morning’s drop off had been smooth and fast.
Thank goodness. Because she had just over an hour until her interview at The G. Scott Carter whiskey distillery. She’d spent most of the past two days researching the company and the industry, as well as looking at different marketing campaigns their competitors were using, and making notes on ways they could utilise successes from other industries.
She’d created a presentation to take them through, even though they hadn’t expressly asked for one. But she needed this job. There was nothing else that suited her skills so perfectly, or that paid the kind of money she was going to need to get her and the boys back on their feet. If she got this job, she could actually start paying rent to Sam.
Hell, she could even look at getting their own place eventually.
The thought of a little house of her own made her heart clench.
The distillery was on the east side of town, an easy drive through deserted roads lined with farmers’ fields and tall trees. She put her foot down on the gas, figuring she could arrive a little early and re-read the notes she’d written down before going in for her interview, but then a loud bang echoed through the interior, and the car lurched to the right, the steering wheel spinning through her grasp.
Adrenaline rushed through her as she realized it was a blow out. For a second, she thought about hitting the brakes, but knew that would only send the car into a skid. Instead, she fought with the steering wheel, trying to keep it as straight as possible as she lifted her foot from the gas pedal, her breath coming fast as the engine creaked loudly and the car slowed down.
By the time she’d came to a stop, the car was off the road and on the soft shoulder, the fender facing a line of trees. With her heart still pounding, Mia climbed out and looked at the front right tire. The black rubber was torn at the seam, gaping away from the metal hubcap. It was completely flat. She stared at it for a moment, her throat dry and scratchy.
She was going to miss her interview. Dammit!
Inhaling raggedly, she started to give herself a pep talk. She could deal with this. She’d dealt with worse, after all. She could try to change the tire – she knew for a fact there was a spare in the trunk – and if that didn’t work, she’d call the distillery and throw herself at their mercy.
Beg, if she had to.
The spare was heavier than she’d expected, but somehow she’d managed to lift it out and roll it along the ground. It would have been a lot easier if she wasn’t wearing a black blouse and tight grey skirt. And these damn heels were a liability.
Kicking them off, she grabbed her phone to bring up a YouTube video on how to change your tire. Her hand shook, causing her to drop her phone. As luck would have it, the device slid beneath the car. It felt like the final straw.
“Why?” she shouted at it. “Why today? Why me?” Why the hell was it that when one thing went wrong, others followed like dominos, until your life was torn to ruins around you?
With a grunt of frustration, she dropped to her knees and started to fish around under the vehicle, but her cell was too far away. She dropped her body flat on the grass and shuffled as close to the underside as she could.
The low rumble of an engine cut through the silence, but she didn’t dare look up. Not when she almost had her phone. Just as it was getting louder, she finally curled her fingers around it, letting out a shout of victory as she pulled it toward her.