Bells bang against the wooden door as I step into the office. Old license plates, Mopar and Snap On posters, some yellowing 'bad cheques' and various branded hats cover 3 walls of the small space. Above a worn leather couch is a giant white board listing services and prices. Framed photos of cars and motorcycles line the entire room along the ceiling. I walk up to the counter and wait. After a couple minutes of hearing only impact wrenches and clangs I decide to call out.
'Hello!' I call out in a singsong voice. I hear a wrench hit the floor and a dull thump then some cursing. I peek into the shop to see a man sliding out from under a 90s civic hatchback rubbing his head. I scoot away from the door so he doesn't realise I saw anything.
A cheerful masculine voice calls out, 'Be right there, sorry!'
I wait next to the rack of exhaust pipes and mufflers on display in the corner. I'm wearing my favourite jeans because they hug my ass and a quirky fitted T-shirt. Double D's stretch the image on the front and the obvious roll of my belly peaks out if I lift my arms too high. But I feel good today. I'm excited because I'm finally going to start modding my car. This shop came highly recommended and everyone swears they are trustworthy. That's important because while I'm not a complete car idiot, I don't know a lot and modifying away from stock is way out of my depth.
I turn towards the shop door as I hear someone enter the office and my eyes go wide, my lips twitch slightly. Of course the young guys who recommended this shop wouldn't tell me the mechanic was hot.
He walks in rubbing his hands on a blue towel, he is wearing a white shirt with a few finger shaped oil marks and coveralls that are tied at his hips.
'Oh, sorry, Miss!' He grabs the coveralls and quickly pulls them on, buttoning them up to his neck. 'Sorry about that, it's hot in the shop and well, women don't often come in here.'
I smile brightly, 'I didn't mind at all, there are better reasons to work up a sweat than working on cars.' I can't help but attempt to flirt with this seriously hot and according to the car boys, perpetually single man; though I am slightly surprised at my boldness.
I lean forward on the counter so I'm forced to look up at him and say, 'I've been told by many people that you make cars sing. That you are the best person to understand what I want and how to give it to me.'
Too obvious? I don't care anymore. I'm 42, I'm divorced, I got my ex's car in the settlement and I want what I want.
He gives me a coy smile, 'I like making them sing, purr, growl or even howl. Each one is unique, they all want different things and I try to give them exactly what they need.'
I flush when I realise he's caught my innuendo and I smile like a fool school girl as I quickly turn to the window. I point at my little black car and say,
'She's been treated like a valley girl her whole life, everything is basic. But she is mine now and I want her to be the best version of herself.'
He walks to the window and stands close beside me, 'Can I meet her?'
I nod and he pushes the door open, I pause but he motions for me to go ahead of him. The bell bangs against the door as it closes behind him. He walks around my car and runs his hands over the small ding in the door. He notices the little chips of paint from rocks and I wince as he runs his fingers over my botched paint work on some really bad parking lot rash. I point to the dual exhaust and tell him she had been in for factory recall and that she seems to have lost a lot of power. He taps one with his foot and it wobbles.
'They didn't even mount it right.' he pauses and runs his fingers over the bad paint touch up, 'You did this?'
'Yeah.' I reach for a different spot and scrunch my nose at the dust coated stripes near the gas tank. 'I can't afford to have her painted or even a fresh clear coat right now. That asshole looked right in my eyes as he jammed his door open against her. I was afraid she'd rust so I ran to the dealership and got a touch up pen and..'
I shake my head. I had kind of hoped he wouldn't notice it but car guys see everything.
'The paint was so thick! I panicked and brought out a fine paint brush and tried to feather it out but that made it look worse. It was a hot day and it felt dry so I didn't cover it but when I woke up in the morning all the dust was stuck to it and it won't buff out.'
'It's just a black eye, it will go away with patience and care.' He says absently and continues walking around my car. 'Valley Girl, you called her?'
'Yeah,' I chuckle, 'she's cute and quick and loves the summer but is an absolutely vicious moody bitch in cold, snow, and ice.'
He laughs, 'I bet she is.' He turns and looks at me from toes to ponytail in a manner I find quite intimidating. I scowl and cross my arms.
'What?' I ask.
'People say cars match their owner so I'm wondering..' he doesn't say more but taps his lips thoughtfully.
I'm feeling self conscious about his first impression of me, I wonder what he's thinking but he just asks to see under the hood. Deciding to show him I'm not a pushover I press the hood release button. I walk to the front of the car, look directly into his cheerful blue eyes and unlatch it without breaking eye contact. I prop the hood gently and step back. He quirks an eyebrow at me.
'No offence to your gender but not a lot of women can find a release so easily.'
Is that more innuendo? I decide to roll with it.
'A little flick and twist in the right spot and she lets loose.'
His blue eyes crinkle with a smile, 'Is that so?' He looks down at the engine, 'Tell me about your Valley Girl's history.'
I stand beside him and have the crazy urge to grab his ass as he bends over the engine. I resist.
'My husb...' I take a breath. 'My ex husband bought her new 10 years ago without telling me. I would rather have discussed it with him but we did need a second vehicle.'
He turns his head towards me as he checks fluid levels, 'You really weren't mad when he brought this home?'
'I wasn't thrilled but the payments weren't crazy so we could afford it. And it made him happy to have it instead of always driving the minivan.' I shrug. 'Trade your time for money, your money for things, and things for experience.'
'Interesting philosophy.'
'Again, not ideal, but it is the way this world works.'
'Any crashes or major work?'
'Nothing major and no crashes. Power steering line, engine heat sensor and few fuses. I blew out a speaker and need to get the tool to pry the door panel off and replace it. She's always had regular oil changes and I keep the fluids topped up'
'Why not take it to a shop to replace the speaker, a special tool is a waste if you only use it once.' He glances at me with another coy smile as he says this.
'Because you are expensive.'
He lets the hood close lightly and takes a step towards me, blue eyes boring into my hazel.
His voice low, nearly a growl he says, 'I'm worth it.'
I swear I shivered. Sir. What did you just do to my pussy? Damn. I take a moment to exhale and he steps around me to the passenger door.
With a cocky smile he asks, 'Want to take me for a ride?'
I grin, 'Thought I'd have to buy you dinner first.'
He laughs as he sits down and immediately notices the fitted floor mats and touches of red I've added to the interior. He flips the newly red air vents and I wince. I'd strategically positioned them to hide the fact that I cut the coloured rods slightly too short to fit perfectly.
He looks at me and smiles, 'It takes practice to get the angle just right. Since the vents in the center are perfect I assume you ran out?'
'I should have more next week.' I admit.
I press the brake and turn the key. For a 10 year old car she starts easily and he nods at the smooth start and gentle burble coming from the exhaust. I get us out onto the street and ask where he wants to go, he points to the highway and I head over. At the intersection he puts his hand on mine on the gear shifter.
Startled I look over at him and he says,
'Drive like I'm not here.' He turns on the stereo. It is immediately blasting my Spotify playlist and I wince as Strut is nearly finished.
'Let's go' he says and I pull out onto the highway. There's virtually no traffic so I slowly get up to highway speed.
'Pull off on the next road.' I do and he motions me to park. 'If you aren't going to actually drive, I will. There is no way you grandma this car around.'
'I drive differently when someone else is in the car with me. I don't want to kill you.'
He tilts his head as he looks at me, 'I can't know what she needs unless you show me.'
I take a deep breath and take us back to the highway. I flick the song to my current favourite and as I lose myself in the music I drive. I actually do forget he is there for moment as I feel my seat shift in the turns onto the highway, I mouth the words to the song as I press the gas down hard and we accelerate, when it finally shifts into 6th we are over 130kph and that's my sign to relax my foot on the gas. I let it slow back to 110 and hit cruise, there is very little traffic but I quickly pop up to 140 to pass and let her slow back to 110. The song shifts to some bad omens and I again silently sing along, I glance over at the mechanic and he's looking out the side window. He turns the volume down, points to a gravel road in the distance and says, 'Turn off there.'
'I'd rather not, I don't want any more chips.'
'It's a short hop back to pave. I'll fix any new ones free of charge.'
I miscalculate slightly as I pull onto the gravel and we fishtail in the turn. I easily keep her pointed in the right direction but I blush. 'It's been a while since I drove on gravel, sorry.'
'I notice you keep your hand on the shifter, this is an automatic.'
'Yeah, but I don't want to replace any more brake rotors, I shift manually to slow down.'
He says nothing and I drive straight ahead, I'm wary of potholes and ruts and absolutely despise the washboard just before the pavement starts. My car has tight suspension and those make my boobs jiggle a lot. That's when I notice he's watching me with a big grin on his face.
'I love washboards, don't you?'
'Only on guys.' I grumble and punch the gas hard as we come up on the pavement. Straight as an arrow and smooth I can see this empty road goes for kilometres.
I grin over at him, 'Tell me when to stop.'
He chuckles and settles back in the seat as we rocket forwards. As we pass 140 the car shivers and begins her usual vibration, he touches my hand on the shifter. Without taking my eyes off the road I say,
'It will stop soon.'
Sure enough by 150 she smoothes out, my foot isn't on the floor yet and we keep accelerating. She's not a rocket ship or a muscle car but she can move.
'What's her top speed?'