Once she’s gone, Max turns around and spots me. His nostrils flare.
“Your chick is gorgeous,” I tell him.
“Don’t think that flattering her will get you in my good graces,” he grumbles, “but I guess that since I now have six fucking months to wait to propose, I don’t have to keep robbin’ ya. Don’t think I wanted to take from you just to be an ass, but I need every job, ya understand? But we were supposed to go to La Forêt, and the wait is crazy to get in there. But it’s her favorite place, and we’ve never been, so I wanted to take her there and treat her.”
“She’s been there without you?”
“Sometimes, her clients will take her out, or sometimes, when she’s had a huge sale, corporate will take her out.”
“That’s crazy.”
"Yeah, kid. Get into real estate if you can. It's a dog-eat-dog world, though, and if you can't hack guys not wanting you to touch their wheels…"
I grit my teeth. “I can handle anything,” I spit out, “including a boss…”
“A boss what?” he asks, crossing his arms. He’s strong, really strong. Stout. He can barely cross his arms because of the size of his biceps.
“Who doesn’t appreciate all I have to offer.”
“You have nothing to offer but a second pair of hands. Not sure that’s gonna be good enough in the long haul.”
“Right. Of course not. Because Tyler could do so much more for you.”
“I certainly don’t think he would’ve cost me any clients.”
I bite my tongue. I can’t afford to lose this job. No matter what, I can’t be fired. I’ll deal with whatever shit Max dishes at me. After all, I don’t think it’s personal. He’s upset because his woman has to work when he thought he would be able to pop her the question. Although he has a home and food and all of that, he’s hurting for money too.
“I never thought about getting into real estate,” I say, changing the subject back to hopefully safer ground. “Do you think I could maybe talk to your girl after she comes back? Maybe after she’s your fiancée and you could introduce her to me. Bring her here to the shop.” I offer him a smile that he’ll hopefully return as a peace offering.
He's scowling at me. "You have a lot of nerve, you know that?"
“Nerve’s not always a bad thing, is it?”
“You’re gonna get me into trouble,” he complains.
“How so?”
“You heard how I talked to that guy. I threatened him.”
“You went all papa bear on him.” I giggle. “You’ll make a great dad one day. Do you want any kids?”
“I do,” he says. “Maybe a brat or two. But they better not be nothing like you.”
“Of course not,” I say smoothly. “They’ll be your little princesses.”
“I want sons.”
I snort. “’Course you do, but you can put a wrench and a screwdriver in a girl’s hand. Just look at me.”
Max does eye me. “Death of me. Cripe’s sake. Why did I hire you again?”
“Because you would’ve had to teach Tyler a lot more than you would’ve me. Do you think Tyler would be willing to paint scrap metal at the junkyard to try to earn more money?”
“Don’t know.”
I open my mouth and then shut it. I’m a little baffled. Why would Tyler need this job? Why had he been so furious that he hadn’t been hired? All of the Mutineers wear fancy shmancy clothes. They all have silver spoons. He shouldn’t need this job. No way does he need it to buy his bread.
Yet, he acted as if his world had ended because he hadn’t gotten the job. He looked so very angry, like he wanted to throw things, break things.