I cross my arms. “You’ll have to leave it, and let me take a look to see what parts are needed. Then, I’ll be able to give you a timeline.”
Her gaze turns to the truck sitting over the pit. “A timeline? So, you’re saying this will take a few days?”
“If you’re lucky.”
She nods slowly. “And how much will this cost?”
I pull up our schedule.
“Not sure. I need a parts list before I can tell you that, but you’ll need an appointment for me to look at it first.”
She swipes at her phone, her fingers tapping away, then stops as she scrolls and reads. She presses her finger to her lips, then scrolls some more and stops to read.
Is she googling it?Shit, she’s probably researching the process to install a new bearing.
I brace my arms on the counter. “What are you doing?”
Those eyes peek up at me from underneath her dark eyelashes, and I have to be careful not to stare awkwardly.
Her gaze moves back to her screen. “I need a few minutes.”
“The shop closed at five.”
She ignores me, slowly scrolling and zeroing in on whatever she’s investigating.
“How long will this take? You fact-checking me?” That gets her attention, and her head comes up to meet my stare. “If I want to rip you off, I’ll break five other things in the process of just fixing the one. At some point, you’re gonna have to trust me, or you can take it to the dealer and see if you like their answer better.”
The hand with her mini research engine falls to her side, and her eyelids droop. It’s clear that trusting me isn’t something she’s inclined to do.
“Thank you for your time. What do I owe for the listen?” She reaches into her massive purse, digging inside.
Why the hell do women need to carry around suitcases? How much shit can they possibly need? All. The. Damn. Time?
“You shouldn’t be driving it. It’s not safe.”
Her hand stalls, and her eyes spear mine. “Yeah, well, I appreciate your time, but—”
“The wheel could fall off while you’re driving. You can’t drive it like that.”
I see her chest expand and then slowly retract, like she’s seeking patience, which makes two of us.
“I need a car.”
“Get a rental. It’s what most folks do.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Just get a rental,” she mumbles, her lips curling into a vague smile.
She starts to sway back and forth, her lips pushed to the side, thinking. “What’s the percentage chance of my wheel actually falling off?”
I scratch my beard. I know this woman isn’t dumb. “Is that something you’re really willing to gamble on?”
She presses her eyes closed and runs her fingers over her forehead.
I have no idea what I’m doing, except I think of Krissy and how I’d hope someone would help her. “You leave it, and I’ll see if I can fit it in tomorrow. I can let you know what I find.”
She stops rocking. “I can’t. . .just leave it.” She wraps her arms around herself, her eyes falling away. She pushes out a long breath. “Is it possible to drop it off tomorrow before you close?”
I don’t even have to look to know the schedule is completely full. I also don’t know what it is about this woman that has me considering exceptions.
