His Uptown Girl. Gail Sattler
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piece of paper out of the box, the phone rang.
Her hand froze in midair. “Should I get that?”
“Yep, that’s another reason you’re here.”
She grinned and picked up the phone. “Good morning, thank you for calling Bob And Bart’s Auto Repair. How may I direct your call?”
Bob dragged his hand down his face.
“One moment, please,” she chirped, then pressed the hold button. “Larry Holt wants to know if his car is ready, and how much it will be.”
“This isn’t an executive office. You can say ‘good morning’ if you want, but we just say ‘Bob ’n’ Bart’s’ without having to make a speech about it. Things are pretty simple here. Tell Larry his car will be ready at two, and we’re not sure how much yet until we know if we have to replace the ignition switch. And try to be less formal.”
Her face reddened. She finished the call, then returned to the entry on the computer.
At the sight of that attractive blush, Bob decided to linger a bit, just in case she had questions. He had wondered what it would be like to have another person around, especially a woman. He’d never had an employee before. Bart and he had been friends long before they became business partners, and it was only their friendship and their shared faith in God that sustained them through the hard times.
This was different. George was an attractive woman and Bart was, well, Bart. But George was also his employee, and no more. He’d often heard not to mix business with pleasure, and this was definitely one of those times. It was his decision to hire her, and conversely, if she messed up, it would be his responsibility to fire her.
He didn’t want to think of firing her when she’d been there less than an hour. He wanted to give her a chance to prove what she could do.
He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get back to work now. If you need help, just call and one of us will come.”
George frowned at the computer and looked up at him. “There’s an awful lot of stuff not entered. I’m okay for now, but the true test will be when I have to do the monthly reconciliations. You do reconcile monthly, don’t you?”
“Uh… We try, but not always. Anyway, we’d like you to do the paperwork in the morning, then after lunch you’ll work in the shop. We need you to get right into routine today.”
She smiled. “Of course. While I don’t mind the paperwork, remember, it’s the mechanic’s job I applied for first.”
Bob stared at her face, which held nothing but sincerity, trying to make sense of her. While he’d met a few women who could tell an alternator from a fuel pump, he didn’t know many who were willing to touch them, much less actually change them.
“I’ll leave you alone, then. Call me if you need anything.”
She nodded, and Bob walked into the shop to finish his own work.
The morning moved more slowly for him than any other morning in the history of their business. It didn’t help that he kept looking through the glass partition between the shop and the office to see how George was doing.
Just as she had when he was beside her, George appeared to be doing fine without him.
The real test would be when lunch break was over, and the second phase of her duties began.
Georgette looked up at the clock. Right on time, Bob walked into the lobby.
“I’m back. It’s time for your lunch break, and then I’ll get you started on a few tune-ups and things.”
Georgette folded her hands on the countertop. “Actually, I ate my lunch as I worked. I hope that’s okay.” Her father would have died to think that she’d eaten while standing at the counter, as people came in and out. However, with all the excitement of doing something new, and running back and forth between the shop and the phone all morning, she’d been hungry an hour before it was technically lunchtime.
It was actually kind of fun, breaking the rules.
“I hope you don’t think we mean for you to work through your lunch break, because we don’t. If you’ve already eaten, would you like to go for a walk or something? There’s a place down the block that has great ice cream cones. It’s opened early because of our great May weather.” The second the words were out of his mouth, he paused as if to gauge her response.
Georgette broke into a smile. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the simple pleasure of eating an ice cream cone, or any kind of ice cream that wasn’t a part of a fancy dessert, meant to impress. Her father didn’t think ice cream cones were very dignified.
She reached under the counter for her purse. “I’d love an ice cream. How long will we be gone?”
“We? I… Uh…” Bob looked up at the clock, then shrugged his shoulders. “I hadn’t intended for any of us to take our breaks at the same time, but we can probably make an exception for your first day. Just a sec.” He turned and walked the three steps to the door leading to the shop, and opened it. “Bart!” he hollered. “I’m taking George for an ice cream down the street! We’ll be back in twenty!”
Bob didn’t wait for a reply. “Let’s go while things are quiet. This doesn’t happen often.”
He shucked his coveralls off, pressed a few crinkles out of his jeans and T-shirt with his hands, and met her at the door.
“What about the phone?”
“Bart will do the same thing we’ve always done. He’ll keep working, and when the phone rings, he’ll go answer it.”
“It’s really nice that you don’t ignore your calls and let them go to voice mail.”
Bob nodded. “When we’ve got someone’s car, they don’t want to talk to a machine. They want an answer from a person, even if it’s an ‘I don’t know.’ I feel the same way when I’m calling for status.”
Georgette thought of her father’s charity. Only people who wanted to ingratiate themselves with him called. They found leaving a message more efficient.
She hated dealing with the machine because she missed the personal contact. On the other hand, the way everything was handled now suited her well. She’d told her father that she could handle the organization’s details in the evening, since it only took an hour each day, and she never talked to anyone, anyway. This left her free to seek out something else to do during the daytime. He wasn’t pleased she had found something now, but didn’t press her for details probably figuring it wouldn’t last.
As they crossed the intersection, Bob pointed to the north. “There’s a small mall down that way, if you ever need anything. Next door to the mall are a couple of fast-food places.” He jerked his head in the opposite direction, toward the residential area. “But if you want one of the best corned beef on rye sandwich in the world, there’s a neighborhood market down that way.”
“It sounds like you know the area really well.”
Bob smiled. Little crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. His whole face softened, confirming her earlier opinion that her boss was quite a good-looking man.
“I grew up here. The reason Bart and I chose the location is because most of our initial customers were people we knew. It’s worked well, so we’re still here.”
As they walked, they passed a number of specialty stores and small office buildings in the small commercial district. Not a single building was over two stories tall, and there were actually open metered parking spots on the street. The ambience of the district was nothing like the hustle and bustle of downtown. Georgette liked it.
By the time they arrived at the ice cream shop, Georgette could feel effect of the unaccustomed weight of the steel-toed safety boots on her lower back, far different from too-high high heels. Thinking of her closet-full