One of the Guys (3 page)

R
onnie spent
Monday morning ordering parts and then finished a transmission rebuild on a newer-model vehicle she had started on Friday. She ate lunch with Alfred, an old white man with silvery white hair, craggy eyebrows, and surprisingly bright eyes in a pale, wrinkled face. He’d worked with her father for many years and his knowledge and experience proved invaluable when she took over running the shop.

They went over the schedule in her office, a small space that two months ago she spent an afternoon painting white. Invoices and notices were pinned to the walls, and spare parts and batteries piled on top of wire shelves that surrounded the eight-foot table she used as a desk.

She currently employed three full-time mechanics, two part-time mechanics, and a weekend office manager, a young man in his early twenties earning extra money while he attended school to earn an automotive service technology certificate.

At the end of the lunch meeting, Ronnie sent home one of the part-timers and one of the full-time employees. If by some chance a couple of unscheduled customers came through the doors before closing, she was confident she, Alfred, and the other two techs could handle the repairs.

She was about to do an oil change on a Lexus for a customer who would return after work to retrieve it, when she heard a bouncing basketball and hollering men. The sounds penetrated the noise of tools and Alfred singing along to a country music song playing on the portable radio in his service area.

Diego had installed a basketball net last year to give his men an outlet during slow periods. Ronnie went to stand in the open doorway and watched him and Dave, whom he recently hired, and Justin, a wiry white guy with a waist-length ponytail, roughhousing and grunting as they ran around.

Justin grabbed the rebound and spotted Ronnie. “We have an audience,” he announced. Using a graceful fadeaway, he shot the ball clean through the net. Grinning, he winked at her.

Justin tended to flirt, but not as much as Diego. Once or twice he made a comment about taking her out and asked if she ever considered trying “white chocolate.” She completely ignored him, considering he was getting married in the fall.

Ronnie leaned a shoulder against the door and pointed at the food wrappers piled along the back wall. “Are you guys going to clean up this mess when you’re finished?” she asked.

“Don’t we always?” Diego said. He dribbled the ball and hustled away from Dave.

“No, you don’t, actually. The lot is a pigsty.”

“
Dios, mami
, do anything but complaints ever come from that gorgeous mouth of yours?”

Gorgeous mouth. The compliment sent heat radiating through her body.

Diego shot the ball and missed. “Look what you made me do,” he said.

“I didn’t make you do that.”

He sauntered over, and Ronnie straightened, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“Diego, you finished?” Dave asked.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he called, not taking his eyes off Ronnie.

The men continued playing, while she Diego continued their staring contest.

“Why do you have such a problem with me?” he asked.

“You really have to ask? You act as if you’re the only one leasing this space. My business is here, too, and the condition of the property affects me.”

“No one comes in the back lot. You just want to give me a hard time.”

“Believe me, I get no pleasure out of always having to be the bad guy.”

“I think you get a lot of pleasure out of it.”

A sexy smile crossed his lips, making her toes curl in her comfortable black lace-ups. Every time he spoke, his voice sounded low and enticing, almost dirty.

“Well, you’re wrong,” Ronnie said.

“From the beginning you’ve been rude to me,” Diego said, pointing a finger at her.

“What are you talking about?”

“From the first day when my office was closed and you didn’t accept that package. Instead, you sent the UPS man on his way.”

She remembered the day well, and didn’t know why she didn’t accept the package. She never hesitated to do small favors like that for the previous owner. “You stormed over to my shop and yelled at me. I’m not your secretary.”

“No, but you’re my neighbor. Would it have killed you to be nice?”

“Would it have killed you to show a little respect?” Ronnie shot back with attitude, getting up on her toes.

They both took deep breaths, tempers flaring at the past transgressions.

“You know what, forget it.” He waved his hand. “One of these days I’ll find a way to shut you up.”

“Empty threats don’t bother me. The only way to shut me up is to do what you’re
supposed
to do,” Ronnie said in an extra-sweet voice. She received unprecedented pleasure out of needling him.

“You’re a control freak.” Diego shook his head and strutted away.

“Of course, there’s another way you can shut me up.”

He stopped and slowly turned around. Behind him, Justin and Dave continued to grunt and shove each other in their particularly intense game.

“I’m listening,” Diego said, eyes narrowed.

Ronnie ambled forward. “Why don’t we play a game? If I win, you keep the property clean, file for the abandoned vehicles, and park your trucks where they should go—not in prime customer parking spots. If you win, I’ll leave you alone. Shut my mouth from now on.”

He stroked his jaw. “What game are we talking about?”

“How about…basketball?” Ronnie said, as if the idea came to her out of the blue.

“Basketball?” Diego smirked.

“Yes. I challenge you to a game of basketball.” Ronnie lifted her chin.

Diego snorted. “Are you serious? I’m six feet tall. You’re what…five feet?”

“Five two,” Ronnie corrected firmly, standing erect.

“Same difference.” Diego shrugged.

“No, it’s not. But whatever. Do we have a deal?”

He stepped closer and her chest tightened. “I play basketball every weekend at a gym. You really want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, in that case, I want to add one more thing.” His gaze flicked over her. Brazen. Indecent. A flush of heat covered her neck and cheeks. “In addition to keeping your mouth shut, if I win, you wear a dress to work.”

“A dress? That’s not practical.”

“Those are my terms.” Diego made a careless shrug.

She hesitated.

“Fine, if you win, I’ll wear a dress to work,” Ronnie said, lips tight. “We’ll play tonight, after closing.”

“Perfect.” He walked off, chuckling. “Can’t wait to see those legs.”

“Cocky bastard,” she muttered.

“I heard that.”

“I wanted you to,” she flung over her shoulder, inflecting her voice with annoyance.

But she was smiling to herself.

R
onnie stretched
, gearing up for the match against Diego. She rolled her neck, watching him chat idly with three of his men, completely unconcerned about the forthcoming game.

D&M Towing and Taylor Automotive & Repair had already closed for the evening. The mechanics and tow truck drivers gathered around the basketball hoop for the big game between the bosses.

The evening air was perfect for a basketball game, cool with a gentle breeze. The lights were already turned on to illuminate the parking lot.

“All right, let’s do this,” Alfred said, playing the part of referee by holding the basketball aloft.

Ronnie and Diego approached each other. Ronnie rolled her neck and made eye contact with Diego. He appeared amused, unperturbed by her competitive nature.

“I want a clean match,” Alfred said, and stated the rules. He concluded with, “First one to ten wins.”

They flipped a coin. Ronnie took the ball, and the gathered men immediately began cheering for their individual employers.

Ronnie edged toward the basket, but Diego blocked her with arms spread wide. However, with quick footwork and a cross over, she shifted direction and went around him, hit the layup, and the ball went in. Nothing but net.

On the sidelines, the mechanics cheered and pumped their fists.

“Yeah! Go ahead, Ronnie!”

Diego took the ball next, dribbling toward the hoop. He eyed her with caution, the humor gone from his face. He clearly recognized that misjudging her because of her height had been a mistake.

While he was bouncing the ball, Ronnie darted at him, stole it, and ran several feet away. With a quick turn, she faded back and tossed it in. Swoosh! Nothing but net.

More yelling from the sidelines.

“Come on, Diego! You got this, boss,” Dave called, although he didn’t sound quite as convinced as his words.

Diego grabbed the ball and stared at her, breathing hard, finally realizing he was outmatched. He dribbled again and Ronnie stripped away the ball. Diego gaped at her, his eyebrows coming down over his eyes.

Ronnie smirked at him. “Did I mention I played varsity basketball in high school? And for two years in a row I led the state in three-pointers.” Standing way back, Ronnie lined up the shot and tossed the ball into the basket.

Nothing but net.

More shouts from the men filled the night air.

The game wrapped up shortly thereafter, the final score of two to ten, in favor of Ronnie.

The mechanics filed back toward the building, with words of “Good game,” and “Way to go, boss.”

Diego’s men sauntered off with much less enthusiasm.

“Hey, you tried,” Justin said.

Dave patted his shoulder.

When they were alone, Ronnie tossed the ball at Diego, and he automatically caught it.

“Don’t feel bad,” she said. “All you have to do is be a good neighbor. Like I said, I’m only asking you to do what you’re supposed to do.”

She sauntered away, an extra swagger in her step.

“It’s not over.” His words sounded like a threat.

She glanced over her shoulder. “It is over.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You can’t run forever,
mami
.”

Heat prickled her skin in the cool air. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not giving up.” He bounced the ball twice and shot it into the hoop. Then he turned to her with a smile on his lips but determination in his eyes. “I’ll see those legs eventually.”

“
I
’m leaving now
,” Ronnie said into the phone. She turned out the light in the back office.

“All right. See you in a little bit, nugget,” her father said.

Ronnie set the alarm and extinguished the light in the lobby. Seconds later, she locked the front door and gave it a good shove to make sure the bolt caught. The night was a little chilly and she shivered, pulling the fleece jacket tighter around her shoulders.

At half past seven, it was quiet, with all the employees gone and inadequate lights casting shadows in the parking lot along the mostly quiet street. A lone car cruised by, slowing when it approached the red traffic light a hundred yards away, and accelerating when the light turned to green.

The shop closed at six, but Ronnie sometimes stayed behind an hour or two working on administrative tasks she preferred not to tackle during regular business hours. Paperwork was her least favorite part of working at the auto shop, but necessary. Her greatest joy, however, came from working on cars.

Because her father didn’t trust just anyone to watch her, he’d started bringing her to the shop at an early age and made keeping an eye on her part of the duties of his office manager at the time. Her earliest memory was of being five years old and hanging out with the men in the garage and handing them tools, or watching from a safe position on a stool, admiring their work and inhaling the intoxicating smell of oil, grease, and sweat.

Twenty-one years later, she still worked at the same spot, but the mechanics had come and gone over the years, Alfred staying around the longest.

Her father negotiated a ten-year lease before he turned over the reins to her, but the lease was coming to an end. Ronnie mulled the rent increase notice she received from the company managing the property. She worried she couldn’t meet all of her obligations with such a decline in revenue over the past few months, and hesitated to sign the new lease.

She’d run ads in the paper to boost business and listed coupon codes on the bulletin boards of nearby stores and the local laundromat, but none of those efforts created the surge she’d hoped for.

Her mind was so distracted by business problems, she didn’t notice the dark image coming toward her until he was only a few feet away. She pulled up short and stared at the stranger, fingers tightening around a chrome crescent wrench she carried low against her leg during the nights she worked late.

She immediately shifted into a fighting stance, feet spread wider than her hips, tension in her abdominal muscles. “What do you want?” she asked in a loud voice.

“Do you have a few bucks I can borrow to get something to eat?”

Even in the dim lights of the parking lot, she clearly saw the red dirt covering the man’s tattered clothes. A foul smell came from him, and she barely restrained from plugging her nose with her fingertips. She’d seen him around a few times, walking along the roadway during the daytime. One time, she ran him off the property for begging customers for money.

“I have a few dollars for you,” a male said, coming out of the shadows.

Ronnie’s shoulders sagged at the sight of Diego. His broad body appeared even broader in a black jacket, and the dusky tint of his skin appeared darker in the night. The brim of a D&M Towing cap covered his dark hair and hid his green eyes under shadow.

The man’s previously earnest and intense expression shifted into one of alarm, and Ronnie wondered if he had specifically been waiting for her. The thought made her very uneasy. This stretch of road was fairly busy during the day, but at night, much quieter with less traffic.

Diego pulled out a few dollars and extended his hand. The man hesitated, eyes darting between the couple. Then he grabbed the cash. “Th-thank you,” he said in a hushed voice.

“You’re welcome. But it’s not a good idea for you to be hanging around here at night anymore,” Diego said in a flinty voice, unsmiling.

“Won’t do that again,” the man mumbled, ducking his head. He stumbled away, once glancing over his shoulder as if worried Diego would suddenly grab him and snatch away the money.

When he’d disappeared into the night, Ronnie turned to Diego. “Thanks. I—”

“I told you about being here at night alone,” Diego interrupted in a harsh voice.

Ronnie reared back. He had never spoken to her like that before. “Yes, I know you have.”

“Why are you always here so late at night by yourself, anyway?”

“I have paperwork to do, and I prefer doing it at night, when it’s quiet and there are no distractions,” she said defensively.

“You need to cut that shit out.” His eyebrows snapped together over his eyes.

Okay
.

Granted, she needed to rethink her workday and avoid having to stay late when everyone else was gone. Even her father had warned her about leaving too late and insisted she call every night before she left so he could gauge how long it took for her to get home. He often pointed out that she was small size, and from the time she was a child, he’d instilled in her the importance of being able to defend herself—and made sure she could.

“I have this.” She held up the heavy tool. “No one can mess with me.”

“If I sneaked up on you, I could grab you and you wouldn’t have time to use that thing.”

“Jeez, relax.”

“It’s not a joke, Veronica.” Diego ran a hand along the back of his neck and rotated his shoulders.

Properly reprimanded, Ronnie fell quiet. Neither of them spoke. Another car rolled by, its noisy muffler disturbing the silence.

“The back lot looks nice,” Ronnie said quietly.

“You beat me, so I made the guys clean up.”

“Nice to know you keep your promises and pay your debts.”

They fell quiet again. Then he said, “You’ll be happy to know I spent the afternoon filing for title on the abandoned vehicles.”

“
What
?” Ronnie said, exaggerating the surprise and skepticism in her voice.

He threw back his head in a full belly laugh. She preferred that expression on his face, much more than the anger from before.

“Smart ass.”

Ronnie grinned, her pulse doing a weird racing thing. His presence charged her, the way jumper cables recharged a battery.

“I’ll let you know which ones I want you to work on. Maybe I deserve a reward,” he added slyly.

“You couldn’t resist, could you?” she asked.

“I can’t seem to help myself when I’m around you,” he said in a subdued voice.

Her pulse quickened. “Is that right?” she said in a flippant tone, pretending not to care.

“Can’t, even though you give me so much grief.” He glanced at his black wristwatch. “Let’s go get something to eat. My treat.”

“No, thanks.”

Diego leaned in, and she could clearly see his eyes. They searched her face. “What are you afraid of?”

Rejection.

“I’m not afraid,” Ronnie lied, shoving her empty hand into the overalls’ pockets. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll probably grab a burger and eat it on the way home.”

“Then let’s go to dinner another night.”

“No.”

He laughed. “Do I smell or something? Is it my breath?”

“No, it’s…”

“What?” he pushed.

She swallowed, unsure how to express the hesitation, even to herself. Sharing her thoughts meant laying bare her insecurities. “I’m not the kind of woman you date.”

Men said they wanted a low-maintenance woman, and when they found out she was into sports, they became excited about someone sharing their interests. They loved the thought of not getting dragged to chick flicks or sitting around shopping malls holding packages and purses. Yet the unvarnished truth was that every characteristic men said they
didn’t
want in a woman was a prevalent trait in the women they fell for. Never failed.

Ronnie should know. She’d played matchmaker to plenty of female acquaintances with her male friends over the years. They all had boyfriends. She didn’t.

The one man she’d thought she had a connection with simply treated her as an interlude and moved on to a woman who fit into a more traditional gender role. Ronnie was good enough to hang out with but not good enough to date.

“You don’t know the kind of women I date,” Diego said.

“Trust me, I know.”

“Oh really? What kind of women do you think I like?”

“Women like the blonde from Saturday, with the Volkswagen.” His type always went for the delicate flowers who wore skirts and heels and needed help getting down from a truck. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re seeing her. She certainly left no doubt that she was interested.” Her stomach contracted as she waited for a response.

“She’s married,” Diego said flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ronnie said, even though she was anything but. “Better luck next time.”

Diego observed her silence, but his scrutiny quickly became unbearable.

“What?” Ronnie asked sharply.

“Did my answer change your mind about dinner?”

“No.” Ronnie saw his flirtations for what they were. A game. Nothing more.

He gave a short laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Veronica.”

“Why do you do that?” Ronnie asked.

His brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Call me Veronica.” Whenever he said her name, a fluttery sensation invaded her stomach.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“It is, but no one calls me Veronica. Everybody calls me Ronnie.” Everybody but him.

“I like Veronica better.”

“So you go around renaming people with names you like better?” Ronnie asked, itching for a fight but not knowing why.

“Veronica is your real name,” Diego pointed out, his voice slow and even, like a teacher explaining complicated calculus to a five-year-old. “I didn’t rename you. Everyone else did. And Ronnie sounds like a man’s name. But if you don’t want me to call—”

“No, it’s…” The thought of him stopping sent her into an unforeseen panic. Her stomach trembled, and she shrugged dismissively, but she definitely didn’t want him to stop. “It’s fine. I just wondered, that’s all.”

“
Bueno
.” Diego stifled a yawn. “I’m tired and hungry. Maybe you don’t care much about dinner, but I have a taste for steak tonight, so I can’t stay here all night watching out for you. Get in your truck.” He started away from her.

“I never asked you to watch out for me.” Ronnie huffed. She could take care of herself. She marched toward her blue Nissan.

Settling into the vehicle, she tossed the wrench on the floor and stuck the key in the ignition. Once again she heard the words he’d said.

I can’t stay here all night watching out for you.

She sat in the dark cab but didn’t drive away, and neither did Diego. He sat in his personal vehicle, a black behemoth with a hemi engine and the ability to tow thirty-one thousand pounds. A beast of a machine. Sturdy and strong, like its owner.

She watched the minutes on the face of her phone advance slowly, one after the other. She waited a full five minutes, but he never moved.

Finally, she started the engine and drove out of the lot. He followed behind her and went in the opposite direction.

Diego worked late every night she did and left around the same time. Always. Once or twice might be coincidence, but every time indicated a pattern.

Ronnie eased to a traffic light and stopped on red. She acknowledged what she’d never noticed before, and what she was certain Diego would never admit. He wasn’t staying late because he had work to do. He stayed behind because of her.

She smiled through the biting of her lip.

Though she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, her insides warmed at the thought of Diego sticking around to make sure she was safe.

To keep an eye on her. To watch out for her.