A Father's Name. Holly Jacobs
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on the Paradisi bike.”
She’d lost. Flat out lost. Most of the time, she’d continue the fight, but in the face of her father’s ill health, she couldn’t.
“Fine,” she said with as much graciousness as she could muster. Her father’s expression relaxed a bit and she knew that giving up the battle was worth it. She’d lose any fight, hire anyone, do anything to keep her father healthy and happy—to keep him with her as long as possible.
“And Angel?” her dad asked.
“Yeah, Pops?”
“I’m turning everything, from this moment on, over to you. I’m not saying we won’t discuss the partner issue again, but I won’t push it on you. As for Tyler, I not only wanted to help him out, I wanted to be sure that you weren’t overwhelmed. I want you to have a life, Angel. I want you to be happy.”
She got up and walked over to her father, then kissed his weathered cheek. “I’m happy, Pops. I only want you to be well.”
“I’m feeling good today. It’s almost summer, the sun is shining, and I’m going to spend my day out on the lake instead of working. That sounds like an excellent day to me.”
She watched him walk slowly out of the office. Worrying about him still weighed on her and the sudden discovery that she was now the official managing partner of Tucker’s Garage only added to it. The title seemed so much more serious than acting managing partner. That title had hinted at the possibility that eventually her father would be back at the helm.
It was time to realize that wasn’t going to happen. But she couldn’t think of what her father’s official retirement implied. She had a new employee to meet and greet.
She’d spent months ducking Tyler Martinez’s date invitations, and now she’d be working with him every day thanks to her father. That was a nasty way to start a week.
Normally, Mondays were her favorite day. They were fresh and full of potential. But this Monday might go down as one of her worst ever on record.
TYLER WANTED TO get up and leave the garage for any number of very valid reasons, the most predominate of which was the fact Angelina Tucker had made it more than clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
A couple years ago, he’d spent months asking her out. She’d been kind with her refusals. She’d even tried some humor. But despite her kindness and humor, she’d made it abundantly clear she wasn’t interested. Eventually, he’d stopped asking and they’d continued an amicable business relationship.
Well, today, it was very clear that she wasn’t interested in having him work here either. In the past, his pride would have dictated him walking out. Now, he had no pride left. He needed a job, and since it was obvious he’d never be able to return to the investment firm, he only had one other skill to fall back on—auto mechanics.
All those years of bringing his vehicles to Tucker’s Garage had made him proud. He was no longer the boy who had grease embedded under his nails. He knew how to repair and maintain his own vehicles, but he didn’t have to.
The phrase pride goes before the fall played in his mind. He ignored it and repeated what had become his personal mantra of sorts. The only constant in life is change. His life was a prime example of that.
He stared out the window at the bucolic scene. The garage sat at the edge of Whedon, Pennsylvania, butting against farmland and woods. Through the copse of budding trees, Tyler could see the cows grazing without a care in the world.
Carefree—Tyler had never experienced that particular sensation. Given his current situation, he doubted he ever would.
“Mr. Martinez?”
He swung around and saw Angelina Tucker at the doorway. “If you’d come with me, I’ll take you out to the shop and introduce you to the guys. I’m sure my father informed you that you’ll be expected to be here at eight in the morning, and we work until five. Occasionally, a customer needs to pick up a car after that, and we take turns staying late. Of course, you’ll be compensated for that. And you’ll be expected to work every other Saturday, from eight until noon. Overtime for that, too. An hour for lunch. We try to stagger our lunches so someone’s always in the shop. I think that’s it. Any questions?”
She looked cute as she raked her fingers through her short, wild brown hair and rattled off the information. Of course, he’d never share the fact that he thought she was cute. Angelina wasn’t interested in him when he’d had money and asked her out. He was pretty sure she’d be even less inclined to date him now. A prison record tended to turn most women off, and the ones it didn’t, well, they weren’t the type of woman who interested him anyway.
“Mr. Martinez?”
He realized he’d been staring at her without responding. “No, everything is perfectly clear to me. Thank you.” She turned and left the room, obviously expecting him to follow. “And I’d like to thank you for taking a chance on me.”
“My father’s the one taking the chance. I’m hoping you prove worthy of it.”
Tyler nodded. “I’ll do everything in my power to.”
“Fine.”
She whisked him into the shop, introduced him to two older men, Joe and Lou, and a younger guy, North, who had a huge tattoo on his forearm.
“North?” he asked.
The kid grinned. “Yeah, my first day here, Lou said I was so far out I might as well be at the North Pole. The name sort of stuck.” North caught Tyler’s line of sight and shook his head. “Nah, it’s not about the tat itself. Lou’s is bigger than mine.”
Lou snorted. “That’s what all the girls say.”
North laughed. “Well, his tat is bigger. No, they seemed to think the inspiration for my tat made me a bit out-there.”
He held his forearm out to Tyler. Tyler recognized the Star Trek symbol above the words Live Long and Prosper.
“Some people,” North looked pointedly at his coworkers, “seem to think having a Star Trek tattoo makes you a fringe element. Me, I say it means I boldly go forth. I kind of like the name anyway.” He clapped Tyler’s back. “Come on. You can help me today.”
Tyler followed the kid, and as he walked away he heard Angelina say, “Keep an eye on him, guys. Make sure he learns his way around the shop.”
He glanced back at Angelina and his pride reared its ugly head again. He wanted to go tell her to stick her job and her father’s pity, but he needed this job and he was going to have to suck it up and deal with her.
“HEY, MOM.”
Tucker glanced at the clock in her paint room and realized it was almost four o’clock. “Hey, Bart, how was school?”
She stood and stretched out the kinks that came from sitting crosslegged on the floor for so long. She should have put the motorcycle on a lift. She flexed her arms and fingers. She’d held the airbrush for too long.
“School was great. First final’s on Monday and the rest come quickly after that. I’m planning on staying in most of the week and this weekend to start study.”
She looked at her son and was, as always, amazed he was hers. Straight A student, good at sports, and cute to boot. Those were all great characteristics. But add to that, he was a nice kid.
He needed a haircut. He hadn’t quite inherited her curls, but when his hair got too long, it fell into waves. She’d make him cut it before graduation.
It never ceased to amaze her that despite the fact she was little more than a kid herself when she had him, she’d managed to raise him to adulthood. She thought it was more a testament to how innately good her son was rather than anything she’d done.
“Nerd,” she teased with good humored affection.
“Yeah,