A Little Night Matchmaking. Debrah Morris
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familiar shadows across his face. His white shirt practically glowed in the dark. Barely controlled energy hummed around him like a powerful unseen electromagnetic field.
“Apology accepted.” She turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. She tried again with the same frustrating result. She bit back a few colorful curses she couldn’t say in front of Chloe. Thanks a bunch, St. Combustion. For nothing.
“Is the car dead, Mommy?”
“As the proverbial doornail.” Brandy leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel. Would this horrible day never end?
“What’s a purveeal doornail?” Chloe loved learning new words.
Trick Templeton interrupted before Brandy could answer. “I think I told you to have the engine checked.”
“That’s right, you did.” Brandy sat up and smacked her forehead in mock wonder. “I don’t know why I didn’t heed your unsolicited, but clearly valuable advice. I could have squeezed in a complete engine diagnostic on one of my many leisurely breaks this afternoon! My mistake!”
“Hey, you don’t have to get huffy.”
“Huffy does not begin to describe how I am about to get.” If she wasn’t careful, she might even cry. It was past Chloe’s bedtime. She was tired. She’d had a trying day. Tomorrow, she’d have to get up and jump through the hoops again. Figure out how to get the stupid car fixed. Pay the bills. Be a good mom. Do a good job. She might be used to carrying her own load, but life would be a lot easier if she could share the burden.
“How will we get home, Mommy?”
“I don’t know yet.” If they camped out in her office, she wouldn’t be late for work in the morning. That should make Mr. Futterman happy.
Trick Templeton squatted down beside the open window. “Want me to take a look? I’m pretty good with my hands.”
“I’ll bet you are,” she muttered. She didn’t dare linger on that thought.
“Look lady, do you want me to look under your hood or not?”
“Sure. Why not? Knock yourself out, cowboy.” She reached down and popped the release lever. Trick walked around to the front of the car, raised the hood and ducked under it.
“Trick will fix the battery, Mommy.” Where did Chloe get her optimism? Better yet, where did she get her mechanical knowledge?
“I hope so.” Brandy let her head drop back against the headrest and closed her eyes. For the first time in her life, she hoped the man poking around under her hood not only had good hands, but fast ones.
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