Mr. Cooper nodded. “Miguel called in today.“
Miguel was one of the shop’s body guys, and one of my favorite people at CCC. He called out every other month, usually always on a Friday, but when he did, it was to take his kids out of school early so they could go do things. I thought it was sweet. For him to take a Monday off, especially on a day that wasn’t a school holiday, was weird. I’d have to text him and see if he was all right.
Rip was the one who kept talking though. “I needed his help.” I already knew where this was headed. “Think you can squeeze in some time to help me finish up some bodywork and do at least a coat of primer before you go today?”
Well, the only plan I’d had for the evening was going to his birthday get-together thing that evening… and even if that hadn’t been my only plan as of two minutes ago, I already knew I would have said yes.
Even though I would have rather not added more items to my list of things to do. I guess I could skip taking a real lunch break and eat in my room instead? That would clear up some time.
It wasn’t like I needed to go to his birthday thing in the first place.
Or needed to get there at a certain time.
“You don’t have to,” Mr. Cooper added a moment later.
I watched Ripley open his mouth—to argue? To tell him that I did have to? I had no idea—but he closed it almost immediately. They weren’t supposed to argue in front of employees.
Even me.
But I didn’t miss the aggravated look he shot Mr. Cooper for giving me an out.
“It’s okay, Mr. Cooper.” I had my eye on a granite countertop that was way out of my budget, and more overtime meant I was closer and closer to affording it. I nodded at Rip, still giving him a smile. “Let me look at my list for the day and rearrange some things, but I think I can make it work.”
It was Mr. Cooper who asked, “You’re sure?”
Not really but, “Yeah.”
Rip nodded, but I could see the look my original boss shot the man who was sharing his responsibilities with him now. He wasn’t pleased. It was nice at least that he wasn’t.
“If you need help, let us know. I’ve been thinking Jason should get some time in the booth,” Mr. Cooper offered after a moment, watching me carefully. The booth was what we called the large, isolated, illuminated room where the painting went on for the shop. It was where I spent most of my time, unless I was helping out doing bodywork or detailing, if things were slow.
The idea of spending time with Jason sounded worse than flicking bleach into my eyes, but I nodded and kept the grimace off my face. At least I hoped I did. Mr. C knew better than anyone how I felt about him. If he was trying to get me to work with him… maybe he knew something I didn’t. Then again, maybe he didn’t and he figured the only way to fix things between us was to stick us together. I wasn’t a fan of that plan though. “Thanks.”
Mr. Cooper’s mouth shaped into a smile that eased my horror over Jason a little. I guessed he was pleased I wasn’t automatically telling him not to send that pain in the butt over to me. “We’ll chat later?”
Not thinking anything of it, I said, “Sure. I’ll see you later. I’m going to get started.” I glanced in Ripley’s direction, briefly taking in his long-sleeved shirt and the jeans that had so many stains on them there was hardly any hint of blue still on them, and gave him one last little smile. “Have a nice day, Rip. Happy birthday again.”
In the same way he always had and probably always would, he grunted his response. “Thanks, Luna.”
“See you later,” I said to Mr. Cooper.
“Let us know if you need help,” the older man called out to me as I backed out of the room. “I can get Jason to go back there, if need be.”
I raised my hand and waved in acknowledgment.
Swallowing at the pulse in my chest from that smile Rip had shared, I made my way toward the break room and tried to prepare my coffee as fast as possible. I was going to need every minute I could get if I wanted to try and make it to the bar for Rip’s birthday.
I wondered why he’d made that decision but then decided it didn’t really matter, did it?
I’d barely managed to scoop one teaspoon of my stash of coconut sugar into my travel mug when I heard the men on the other side of the wall begin talking again.
But this time in almost whispers. I guess they either didn’t realize how good my hearing was or how thin the walls were, because I could hear everything.
It was Mr. Cooper who spoke first. “She’s such a nice girl.”
There was a pause that I wasn’t sure what to do with and then a response of, “Yeah.”
That was probably the nicest thing he’d ever said, other than the occasional compliments he gave one of my paint jobs.
Then Mr. Cooper kept talking, “You should—”
The response came in the form of one word. “No.”
No.
No what?
What the hell was Mr. Cooper trying to say before Rip had cut him off? He should what? Tell me thank you? Buy me a card? Be a little friendlier? Not be so abrupt with someone who was slightly fonder of him than he probably deserved? I had never said anything to Mr. Cooper, or anyone at the shop, about finding Rip attractive or anything like that. I couldn’t see him making such a forceful “no” to Mr. Cooper suggesting he tell me thanks or buy me a card being worth that, but…
There was no way it would be anything else. Like Mr. Cooper would tell him to be interested in me. And like Rip would even put thoughts into his head like that. Yeah, right.
I couldn’t even—
What was I doing? Was I really going to let a dumb dream about my dad get me down? Was I trying to feel sorry for myself? Was I going to get flustered because Rip didn’t like me? I knew damn well that had never even been a possibility in the first place. He could barely talk to me without huffing and puffing half the time. He’d agreed I was a nice girl, not that I was pretty or that he should ask me on a date or anything like that.
I needed to get to work and forget all of this. I was going to ball all this up and just… throw it away. I’d done it enough over the years. I could do it again.
And I did. I wrapped up the tiny bit of hurt I felt at the idea that Rip would never be interested in me, my dream about two people who didn’t know what kindness was if it kicked them in the face… and I dropped it into the imaginary trash can that was full of other things I didn’t let hurt me anymore.
I was fine. The heart is more resilient than anyone ever gave it credit for, and I liked to think mine was a bad bish.
I rushed through pouring way too much milk into my cup, mixing in the coffee, giving it all a stir, and then hauled my ass downstairs so I could get to work.
I was fine. I was loved. I had everything I really needed. And my sister had made cherry pie, and I was pretty sure she’d put some into my lunch bag. That was definitely something great about today.
I’d been at Cooper’s for so long I could have gotten around with a blindfold, luckily. Down the stairs and straight forward was the main floor where the repairs and remodels happened. Down the stairs and to the left, then straight, I could take the hall that would lead to the part of the building where I worked. It wasn’t anything fancy, but there were two big bay doors. One that led into the hallway connected to the main floor and another that opened to the parking lot surrounding the building. The rest of the room was pretty sparse, containing a desk with a computer and printer on it, three different machines used to agitate the paint, a big industrial sink with soaps and products beside it, and a couple of chairs. The big, white booth set up against a corner took up a third of the room.
I’d already dropped off my things when I’d first showed up. I set my tumbler on the desk and went to unlock the drawer to get the folders for the projects I’d be working on. I opened the first one and had just started reading through what needed to be done, when my ringtone went off.