Page 45 of Where We Stay

Knox stares down at it. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” I answer.

His obnoxious laugh fills the garage as he bends to pick it up.

“Just ask her out, man,” Knox says, tossing the rag onto the workbench.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” I reply.

“Sure you don’t,” he says with a smirk.

“Get back to work,” I order.

“Yes, boss,” Knox replies with a mock salute.

* * *

The rest of the day doesn’t slow down.

By mid-afternoon, Mrs. Peterson has finally left with functioning brakes and only three complaints about the price. The Silverado is waiting on a part, and the Wrangler’s front-end knock has turned into a list of problems long enough to ruin someone’s week.

I glance at the clock above the workbench.

“I need to get out of here by two forty-five,” I tell Knox as I begin putting away my tools. “I’m picking Aspen up from school.”

“No worries,” he replies, leaning beneath the Wrangler’s hood. “I’ve got everything under control.”

“That’s concerning,” I tell him.

“Have some faith in me,” Knox argues.

“I’ve known you too long for that.”

Knox straightens and wipes his hands on his work pants. “How was Pen this morning?”

“Nervous,” I answer. “It’s her first day with the new teacher.”

“She’ll be right,” he assures me. “Kid’s tougher than both of us.”

“Definitely smarter,” I add.

“That isn’t difficult,” Knox replies.

I close my toolbox as his expression turns more serious.

“Have you heard from Courtney?” he asks.

“Not properly.” I lean against the workbench. “She hasn’t called Aspen in three weeks.”

“Fucking hell,” Knox mutters. “Did she answer your message?”

“Apparently, she’s overseas and has bad reception,” I explain.

“Convenient,” he says flatly.

“Yeah,” I grunt.

Knox shakes his head. “She’s lucky you haven’t dragged her back to court.”