“I will. See ya next week.” He jogs off toward his car and quickly climbs inside.
I think I’d prefer to be going home to a sick wife—well … not asickwife, but a wife—rather than going to Brady’s for beer and pizza. I thought I would be married by now, but I wasted a lot of years with Mona. When I think back now, I don’t know what I ever saw in her. Sure, she was beautiful, but she was fucking shallow and superficial, not to mention rude as fuck to my family. I would always bite my tongue in front of my family so I didn’t embarrass Mona, but when we got in the car, I would let her know I wasn’t happy with her behavior. She’d always pout and start fake crying, apologizing profusely and promising to do better next time. Her behavior never improved. After the way she carried on about me wanting to help Emma during her cancer treatment, I couldn’t take it any longer. My family was,is, more important to me than getting laid on the regular.
The bar’s packed. It’s always packed. And loud. When did this place get so fucking popular? We’ve been coming here for years. Back when the general population considered it a dive. Now every goddamn man and his mate seem to think this is the best place to be. I mean, itisa stellar pub. But c’mon, I just want to go back fifteen years when it was quieter.
Fuck, I’m sounding old.
I spot the guys in our usual booths which Finn always keeps free for us—one benefit of being on his team. I slide in next to Aaron and opposite Finn.
“Is it busier than usual, or am I getting old?” I ask Finn as I glance around.
Aaron slides a pint in front of me. “It’s busier than usual.” He nods his head toward the opposite corner. “We have a celebrity here tonight.”
Looking across the room, I spot Toby Summer. “I restored a car for him a couple of years back. He still brings her in for me to service a few times a year.”
“Oh yeah? What is it?” Aaron asks.
“A sixty-seven Chevy Impala soft top. Beautiful car. Looked like brand new when I finished with her.” I remember the expression on Toby’s face when he came to pick her up. He was so fucking in love with that car.
The guys let out a collective whistle. “Nice.”
I nod.
“How’s the Sprint coming along? Surely, you’re nearly done with her.” Aaron asks before taking a long pull of his beer.
“It’s slow. I don’t get as much time to do the restoration side of the business. Too damn busy doing the auto repair work and office crap. Which is great and all, because that’s what pays my bills, but man, I miss working on my cars.” I sigh into my beer.
“Perhaps you should consider hiring some staff to take the pressure off. Give you more time for other things.” He motions toward the bar. I glance across to see a group of women, who look to be in their early to mid-twenties, standing in their too-short skirts and too-low tops, reminding me of Mona.Ugh. What the hell was I thinking?
I dismiss the idea of hooking up with someone so young and return my focus back to my table. “You’re not telling me anything my family hasn’t already suggested. Believe me, I’ve thought about it, but I don’t have the fucking time to dedicate to training someone for the job. I’m too busy … maybe when things slow down.” I hedge.
“Are you an idiot? Things never slow down for you. Your business has only grown busier and busier each year since you opened. You’re a fucking outstanding mechanic and people know they can rely on you and that you won’t rip them off,” Aaron shoots back.
The guys around the table agree, nodding their heads like old men. “You guys sound like Em. She stopped in on Saturday and gave me the same lecture.”
Lincoln sits up straighter at the mention of Em’s name. “Yeah? How’s Emma?”
“Married!” I snap. Fucking asshole knows this already.
“Still?”
“Yeah, fucking still. Probably will be for the rest of her life. Can’t see Theo ever walking away from her and the boys.” I smirk at the forlorn expression on Lincoln’s face. He had his chance to make a move while she was single, but never grew the balls to do anything about it. His loss.
We shoot the shit for a couple of hours, eating pizza and drinking beer. I stop drinking early enough to ensure I’m still under the limit to drive home. It wouldn’t be prudent for me to lose my driver’s license in my line of work—it would cost me my fucking business. A business I’ve worked hard to build since I was twenty-four. There’s no way I want to fuck it up.
I spot the clock on the wall. Eleven. Nearly closing time. “I’m out. See you guys next Monday.” I rap my knuckles on the table as I stand.
Everyone waves goodbye around the table, and I make my way to the front door. A few people obviously have the same idea since it’s almost closing time and I bump into a body. Turning my head to apologize, I catch the eyes of Toby. His eyes widen in recognition, a smile spreading his lips.
“Max. Great to see you, man.” He takes my hand, shaking it with gusto. His bodyguard and friend, Shane, standing right behind him.
I nod to both of them. “Hey, guys. Great to see you. How’s the car?”
We step out of the pub, where the cool air smacks me in the face. I pull my jacket around my body, offering a pitiful shield against the icy wind.
“The car’s incredible. Absolutely incredible. Drives like a dream.”
“Good, that’s great.”
“Actually, she’s due for a service. When can I bring her in?”
I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment and I’m unsure when I have an available day. “Call me tomorrow when I’ve got my calendar in front of me. You still got my number?”
“Yeah, sure. Talk tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” I tip my head goodbye and turn to walk in the opposite direction, toward my car.
Stepping inside my home, I toe off my shoes and throw my keys in the bowl on the hall table. The house is pitch black and silent. Coming from the noisy pub, the quiet seems overwhelming. I don’t bother turning on any lights and make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water before heading to my room. Monday nights are probably the only nights I don’t spend working on my books. The reprieve is welcome as I strip off and fall into bed.
* * *