Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Are you goin’ to stay for lunch?” my friend asked.
With my eyes still on Jax, I shook my head.
“I have to collect me car from your da’s garage,” I replied. “One of the lads had to replace the ruptured diesel pump. I had to wait for the part to be delivered.”
Aideen whistled. “Damien is at work today. He doesn’t just do roadside rescue with Ryder anymore. Me da has taken them both on as apprentices.”
I looked up. “But I thought Ryder said he wasn’t interested in goin’ back to school?”
“He wasn’t until he took an interest in engines.” She shrugged. “Me da already has them set up with FAS so they get paid for workin’ in the garage from me da, and get paid from FAS at the same time. The schoolin’ part of it is cool, too. It takes four years to get their certificate to be approved mechanics, and they split that up between workin’ in the garage and bein’ in school. They’re on the job eighty percent of the time, and then three months out of each year, they have their evenin’ classes to prepare them for their exams. They get trainin’ allowances too, so no college fees.”
“That’s brilliant,” I praised. “Your da really did them a solid.”
Aideen nodded. “He said they are as hard workin’ as me brothers, so he was happy to get them on board.”
“I’m happy for them.”
“Are you still goin’ to collect your car?”
“I have to,” I said with a shrug. “Not only do I need to go shoppin’ to put food in me presses, but I’ve also got a meetin’ in town tomorrow with a lad who applied for the assistant job to help me with the business, and I’m not takin’ the bus. They’ll be packed because the Luas is still on strike.”
“The Luas is always on bloody strike.”
I snorted and looked down at Jax, who was drooling on my fingers as he chewed on them.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, fella.”
Aideen laughed as I moved him into the centre of the bed and went to the bathroom to wash my hands. I popped my head back into her bedroom when I was finished and said, “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Let me know how it goes and if you have a run-in with Damien!”
I leaned my head against the door panel. “Say a prayer for me.”
“I’ll say two.”
I grinned as I walked down the hallway.
“Bye, Kane!” I shouted as I opened the front door.
“Bye,” he hollered from the sitting room.
When I left my apartment building, I thanked God it wasn’t raining and started the thirty or so minute walk to C.A.R. to retrieve my vehicle. The walk did me good; it not only gave me time to think, but it allowed me to stretch my legs as well. Being holed up in my apartment for seven days straight was murder on my muscles, and the lack of use was evident as my thighs and calves burned with each step I took.
I reached the building quicker than I would have liked, but I was prepared. My plan was to get my car and be in and out of the garage before Damien or anyone else caught a glimpse of me. It was a good plan, a solid plan, a foolproof fecking plan.
I’ve got this.
I made it seven steps into the poxy place before I saw the back of Dante Collins. I quickly but quietly scurried my way towards the reception where I ducked out of sight so he wouldn’t see me if he turned around. My heart was hammering against my chest, and my palms were sweatier than usual.
This is a shitty plan.
“Why did I think this was a good idea?” I whispered to myself.
I was in a good place with Dante, but I didn’t want to stand around and shoot the shit with him knowing that Damien was on shift. I wasn’t that brave. I closed the door to the reception, and I hoped to God that none of the lads walked in because I honestly had no idea what I would do if either one of them confronted me. I had all of two seconds to myself before I just about jumped out of my skin when the door to the reception opened. I swung around, and when I saw it was only Mr Collins, I placed my hand over my chest and forced myself to relax.
I was wound up tighter than a cheap watch.
“Hello, Alannah love.”
“Heya, Mr Collins.” I beamed. “Are you well? ‘Cause you’re lookin’ well, sir.”
“You tryin’ to make an old man blush, kid?” he replied with a wink. “Have any of the lads dealt with you yet?”
I shook my head. “I just walked in.”
He nodded, then glanced around the messy room.
“I really need to hire someone to organise this mess,” Mr Collins scowled at the mountain of papers before he looked at me, his eyes suddenly wide and hopeful. “I don’t suppose you’re lookin’ for a job, sweetheart?”