Damien

As I wiped grease from my hands, ready to close up shop, she walked in. My breath caught for a second — she was gorgeous. Tall, smooth brown skin, and a smile that made the dim garage feel brighter. I could barely keep my eyes off her.

“Hey, I think my car needs some work,” she said, her voice soft but confident. “It’s making this weird clunking noise when I turn.”

I blinked, snapping out of it. “Uh, sure. Could be the suspension or steering. Bring it around, and I’ll take a look.” I tried to keep my tone steady, but man, she had me all over the place.

She smiled again, and I felt my pulse quicken. “Thanks,” she said, glancing at my name on my patch. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I said, attempting to act cool. “I’ll get it fixed.”

She turned to head back to her car, and I caught myself watching her a second too long. Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus. I couldn’t let myself get too distracted… even if she made it hard not to.

I am talking to you because you want your car fixed, you’re very beautiful but let’s try keep this professional.

Okay maybe I can make an exception for you.

Suppose I could offer you a discount for a small price.