“I’m the one who didn’t think. You and your paint jobs. What the hell? I should’ve just hired that other guy. I might’ve had to teach him a few things, but then I wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on potential customers, especially ones that drive cars like that!”
“Yes, well, maybe a real man wouldn’t want to have customers who are jackasses who care if it’s a girl who is working on their cars.”
“Those jackasses have wallets and money that I would like to relieve them of. Can’t do that if you’re scaring them off.” He holds out his hand.
“What?” I ask, baffled.
“Give me another twenty.”
“What the fuck? You’re punishing me now? It’s not my fault—”
“You need to work in the back more.”
“You want to hide me away—”
“There’s inventory and shit you can deal with. I hate dealing with paperwork. I mean, seriously, you aren’t going to be bringing in a ton of customers for me. You’ll just end up making me lose too many. I can’t afford that.”
“I want you to succeed,” I assure him.
“Yeah, well, then, chip in.” He shakes the hand he’s still holding out.
I grit my teeth but hand him over the twenty he’s asking for.
“Good. Not nearly square, though. That guy would’ve had to shell out a ton, most likely, so you’re going to have to pay me back some with each day that you work.”
I set my jaw and try not to grind my teeth. Max’s being a major fuckhead about all of this.
But I guess I would be upset, too, if a new hire cost me business, a business I built from the ground up. And if Mercedes guy had needed new parts or anything, yeah, we would’ve made mint. I get it. He’s saving up for a ring. Me? I’m saving up to not be homeless anymore, but whatever. He’s the boss. What he wants, he gets.
So I head to the back. Fuck me. There’s no system, no organization whatsoever. I can’t make heads or tails of it, and when I ask Max about it, he just shakes his head, shrugs, and walks away.
He’s out front, working on cars, greeting customers, and I’m left to handle this.
Yeah, I don’t think so. After an hour, I need to stand and stretch my legs, and I head on out front.
Max is talking to a leggy blond. She's smiling real big, like she wants a favor from him.
“You can’t,” he protests. “I booked the reservation for us four months ago!”
“I know, but—”
"And I was lucky enough to get the spot. Normally, it's a six-month wait."
“I really appreciate it. You treat me so well, but it’s a work business trip. I can’t reschedule it.”
Max turns his head to the side, and I can just see the profile of the face he's making. He's livid.
“That’s fine,” he says, his voice so very sweet and not angry at all. “I understand. Work comes first.”
“I knew you would understand.” She kisses him.
Ah, so that’s his chick. Wow. She looks out of his league. Good for him for climbing the ladder. He’s still an ass, but I can see why he’s desperate to get her a huge rock. He’s afraid she’ll leave him for another dude.
“I’ll see you in two weeks,” she says.
“Yeah,” he says glumly. “Two weeks.”
She waves and heads to her car. A Spyder. Man, those cars are sick!