His Uptown Girl (6 page)

Randy nodded. “That's right. Did you see the way she was looking at him? He's not exactly a hermit, but when was the last time Bob had a steady girlfriend?”

Paul smirked. “More recently than you.”

“You know what I mean. What do you think?”

Paul shrugged his shoulders. “I think you should mind your own business and leave Bob alone.”

“I just found out that she's got a rich boyfriend,” Randy continued. “But I saw how she looked at Bob Sunday night. Trouble's brewing especially if she tries to hook Bob. Bob won't spend his money foolishly, not on some spoiled princess. It'll break his heart when she dumps him.”

“Dumps him? Princess? She's a mechanic! They're not even going out! You are insane!” Paul rolled his eyes. “Bob can handle himself just fine. And speaking of Bob, there he is.” Paul raised one hand and waved at Bob, who was walking toward his car, which was parked on the street.

Randy turned around. “Hey! Where are you going? I thought we were going to talk.”

Bob opened his car door. “Sorry. I don't have time. I've got to get back to work. I promised a customer I'd have his car ready by tomorrow morning, and that transmission isn't fixing itself while I'm here talking.”

“Work?” Randy checked his watch. “At this hour? I thought after you hired someone, you would be cutting back your own hours.”

“That day will come, but not yet. We were further behind than we thought. I hate to think of the shape we'd be in if it wasn't for George.” He smiled, and his eyes
became unfocused for a few seconds. He blinked, shook his head, and opened the car door. “See you on the weekend, I guess.”

Before Randy could respond, the door closed, Bob started the engine, and drove off.

He turned back to Paul. “See?”

“I don't see anything except that Bob's working too much, as usual. Which means he doesn't have time for a girlfriend, even if she is right under his nose all day. Now if you'll please move your car, I have to go, too.”

“G
eorge? What are you doing here?” Bob clearly had not expected company at the shop.

“I wasn't having a very good time at the banquet, so I left early. Need some help?” Georgette tried to appear casual, but her stomach was completely tied up in knots. All during the banquet, all she could think of was Bob. As soon as she could, she made an excuse to leave, although she knew he could do the work himself.

“Well…” Bob's voice trailed off, and he ran his fingers through his hair. “Now that you're here, I could use a hand. But only if you're sure. You work a forty-hour week, and I don't want you to think you need to do more.”

Georgette looked down at her feet, still in her best shoes. “I'm not here to put in overtime. I'm here because I'd prefer to help you with the transmission than sit at the banquet and smile for strangers.”

Bob shook his head. “Fine. Two people will make the job go faster. To tell the truth, it's not so bad working such long hours when it's daylight. But when it's dark and everything outside is quiet, it feels worse because
it's obvious the rest of the world is at home with their families, and I'm working late again. Once you're caught up with the bookkeeping, you'll be spending more time in the shop, and when that happens, I think we'll be able to keep up with what comes in on a daily basis without anyone having to put in much extra time.”

“If it helps, I can see a difference already, even in the short time I've been working here.”

“You're right about that.” Bob smiled, and Georgette's heart rate suddenly accelerated.

Since the first day she'd seen Bob she'd thought he was good-looking, and the faint crow's feet which appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled made him more attractive. Now that she was starting to get to know him, she knew those little lines weren't from age; they were because of the kind heart behind his easy smiles.

She adjusted the strap on the duffle bag on her shoulder. “You should know I'm here on my own time; you don't have to pay me overtime.”

“But—”

Georgette held up one palm to silence him. Bob needed the money far more than she did. “I mean it. If you insist on paying me overtime for this, I'm going to go back home.” Not that she wanted to go home. If she did, she would have to explain to her father why she wasn't at the banquet with Tyler.

Bob sighed. “This isn't normally something I would allow, but you're not giving me a choice. Okay. On your own time. Thanks.”

Just as she did every morning, Georgette hurried into the washroom to slip on her jeans and a T-shirt, then pulled her coveralls off the hook and stepped into them.
Bob had already removed the transmission and was starting to replace the first clutch plate, which was burnt.

“So you and Tyler weren't having a good time at the banquet?” he muttered as he yanked out the old piece.

Georgette leaned to the side to check the alignment on the rest. “Tyler was doing fine, but he likes those kind of things. After a while I couldn't take it anymore.”

“Was Tyler okay with you leaving the banquet?”

Georgette eased up on her motions, thinking of Tyler's comments.

He hadn't been pleased, but she'd reminded him that she had fulfilled her obligations for the night, and she'd been a part of the appropriate conversations. Tyler begrudgingly conceded and took her home. Fortunately her father wasn't home yet, and Josephine was too busy vacuuming to notice her. She'd quickly grabbed her duffel and hurried out to her car, which she'd left parked on the street, and had driven away before anyone noticed that she'd been home at all.

During the drive to Bob's shop, she'd experienced a feeling of freedom such as she'd never felt before. The only thing that could have made it better was if she had been riding on a big, noisy motorcycle, the wind blowing through her hair. Still, despite her silly fantasy, she
was
free, at least for the balance of the evening.

“Tyler wasn't happy, but I didn't care. I did what I had to do.”

Bob laid his wrench down on the bench. “Pardon me?”

“I only went with Tyler because I owed him a favor.” The trouble was, what Tyler called a favor was better known as blackmail. Tyler had her trapped, and they both knew it.

Bob's brow knotted. “I don't understand. When I
take a date somewhere, it's somewhere we both want to go. I wouldn't enjoy myself if I knew my date didn't want to be there.”

While Georgette couldn't divulge the details of her personal life, she needed Bob to think she had better sense than to go out with the likes of Tyler. She took a deep breath.

“I'm not actually dating him. He just needs to have someone with him when he goes to certain functions, and he's calling in a favor to have me go with him.” Every minute she spent with Tyler made her pray even more that she could find a painless way to tell her father the nature of the job she went to every day.

“Oh…” Bob's voice trailed off. He quickly picked up the torque wrench and began tightening one of the belts on the transmission. He didn't look at her as he spoke. “I probably shouldn't stick my nose where it doesn't belong, but it sounds like you only went under protest. Please take care of yourself—you wouldn't want to end up compromising your faith.”

Georgette stiffened. So far, Tyler hadn't asked her to do anything that wasn't proper, but she really didn't know how far he would push things. She knew she shouldn't have been trying to cover up her new life, but she was trapped by circumstances beyond her control.

She smiled weakly at Bob. “It's okay. I'm fine.”

“Good. Let's get this back where it belongs, and we'll be done”

Bob resealed the casing, and together, they carried it back to the car and fastened it in place. He started the engine, and they watched to make sure there were no leaks.

While they waited, Bob pulled the rag out of his pocket, and wiped his hands. “I think everything's fin
ished.” He pushed at his sleeve and checked his watch. “We made good time, between the two of us. I know it's not exactly early, but can I take you out for coffee or something? Especially if you won't accept any pay for doing this.”

Georgette felt a tremor of excitement. “Not tonight. I really should go home. It's getting late.” Her father knew what time the banquet ended, and he would be expecting her back. “But if you'll take a rain check, I accept.”

Bob smiled back, and those adorable crinkles appeared again at the corners of his beautiful green eyes. “A rain check it is, then.”

She felt like skipping out of the building after she'd changed back into her finery, but she forced herself to maintain her dignity.

When she arrived at home her father was in the living room, waiting for her.

“Hi, Daddy. I'm back.”

He smiled politely. “I see that. Did you have a good time?”

She shrugged her shoulders. It wouldn't do to say something bad.

“I noticed that you had your car. I thought Tyler came earlier to pick you up.”

She held up the bag with the gas station's logo. Every time she used their washroom to change, she bought something as an excuse to go inside. “I had to go to the gas station.”

Her father's expression tightened. “You didn't buy oil for the car, again, did you? We can have a mechanic do that. Or is this something for that ridiculous project of yours in the garage?”

“It's a snack, Daddy.”

His eyes narrowed. “I hope you're watching your figure. You've been eating a lot of snacks lately.”

“It's okay, Daddy. I've been exercising. I've actually lost weight in the last week.”

Immediately, he softened. “That's my girl. This job must be good for you to start thinking of such things.”

She couldn't help but smile back. “Yes, Daddy, this job has been very good for me. Now if you don't mind, I've had a long and busy day, and I'm tired. I'm going to bed.”

 

Bob stopped what he was doing once again to watch George run from her car to the washroom in order to change. Every day for three months, she'd done the same thing. He could only assume that she had another part-time job, although it would have to be a very early job. He didn't like to think she needed a second job, after all, he was paying her a fair salary, considering her experience and duties.

It was none of his business, though, so today, as on every other day, Bob remained silent when the washroom door opened. George re-emerged wearing jeans, a T-shirt and the required steel-toed safety footwear.

“Hi, Bob!” she called out as she waved, then tucked her duffel under the counter, and logged in to the computer.

He waved back, then quickly turned around and resumed his task.

George was his employee, and nothing more. Yet, at the same time, he didn't want to see her working herself to death. She worked hard for him, and she did a good job. A couple of regular customers had specifically asked for her to do the work on their cars.

Not long after she'd shown up to help him on the
blown transmission that evening, he'd taken her out for dinner as a thank-you. They had had so much fun that night that they'd agreed to make dinner on Thursday evenings a standard routine. Even so, he still didn't know much about what she did away from work, and he still didn't know why she arrived every morning looking as if she was coming from another job.

Georgette Ecklington was both an asset and a mystery. He couldn't help but like her. She was feisty, spoke her mind, and wasn't afraid to get dirty. He was glad that she joined him at Faith Community Fellowship for their evening service every week. Her enthusiasm and honest questions as a new Christian were both refreshing and a reminder that he wasn't setting aside enough time for God in his own life.

As soon as they got more caught up and didn't have to work so much, that would change, and it was because of George.

“Hey, Bob! What are you doing?” Bart's voice echoed from behind him. “Why are you staring at the wall?”

“What?” Bob felt his face heat up. “Never mind,” he mumbled. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Yeah. Thinking about George.”

Bob turned around, about to contradict his friend, but the second he opened his mouth, Bart started laughing.

“Give it up, Bob. Nothing you say can change the truth. I can tell. You've got George on the brain.”

Bob gritted his teeth and tromped back to the car he was working on.
“Ma fatti affari tuoi,”
he muttered.

Bart laughed louder. “Have I touched a nerve, Roberto?” he asked, rolling his
R
s as he spoke, just as Bob's Italian-born mother did, because Bart knew it annoyed him. “Would you like to repeat that? In English?”

Bob spun around. “I said, I wish you would mind your own business.”

Bart chuckled again. “I hope I haven't pushed my luck, but speaking of business, I need a favor.”

“What?” Bob snapped as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I can't go to the Chamber of Commerce dinner. Anna didn't realize it was tonight, and she bought tickets for a play. She got dinner reservations, a babysitter and everything. Can you go for me?”

Bob tapped the socket wrench repeatedly into his palm as he contemplated Bart's request. It was part of their agreement as partners that Bart would attend the few social functions related to their business, and Bob would meet with their suppliers. Occasionally they reversed the roles, but it hadn't taken long to see that Bart did better in group situations, and Bob did better working one-on-one.

But he couldn't turn down his friend's request.

“Yeah. I can go for you.”

One corner of Bart's mouth turned up. “Actually, I was thinking…. Why don't you ask George? You know you hate handling this stuff alone.”

Bob glanced at George, who was haggling with a customer over the price of an overhaul. She was good with people, of that there was no doubt. Bob thought he would enjoy going to the Chamber banquet with George, those Thursday-evening dinners were fun and a chance to talk about what was happening at work. It may have been a bit odd, but they both found they needed—and wanted—the break from the shop.

But there were times they didn't talk strictly business, and it was those times that gave Bob pause about ask
ing her to accompany him. Every time Tyler took her to another “event,” she spent a large part of the next Thursday evening complaining bitterly to Bob, both about Tyler and about the evenings. She always thanked Bob profusely for letting her vent her frustration, making him feel as if he'd been at least helpful.

It would have been nice not to go to the Chamber banquet by himself, but Bob knew George didn't enjoy such things.

He turned back to Bart. “It's okay. It's only a couple of hours. I'll go alone.”