“Is that a compliment?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you're going to spray me.”
She shook her head.
“You're very committed to that joke.”
“It keeps me alive.”
He returned to work.
She watched his hands again.
Then decided to make him uncomfortable.
“Do women normally stare at you while you fix their cars?”
His shoulders shifted.
He knew she had caught him noticing her.
“Normally they stare at the repair bill.”
“I’m not paying you.”
“You definitely are not.”
“Why?”
“Because I stopped voluntarily.”
“That seems like a terrible business model.”
“Good thing this isn't my garage.”
She smiled.
“What’s your name?”
He was about to answer when his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen and groaned.
“What?”
“My sister.”
“You're late.”
“So are you.”
The woman checked her own phone.
7:27.
She sighed.
“My friend is going to murder me.”
“Blind date?”
She nodded.
“First one?”
“In a very long time.”
“Divorce?”
“No.”
“Work.”
He looked at her.
“Work prevented dating?”
“Work prevented almost everything.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why do it?”
The question was so direct she nearly became defensive.
Instead, she answered.
“Because two hundred people depend on me.”
His expression softened.
“You own a company.”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Fashion.”
He looked at her clothes again.
“That explains a lot.”
She smiled.
“What does that mean?”
“You look like somebody who knows exactly what she wants.”
She studied him.
“If that were true, I wouldn’t be driving through a snowstorm to meet a stranger.”
He smiled.
“Fair.”
The SUV suddenly started.
The woman jumped.
The mechanic grinned.
“There.”
She looked genuinely delighted.
“You fixed it?”
“Temporarily.”
“Temporarily sounds dangerous.”
“Drive directly where you're going. No stops.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Replace the alternator.”
She looked toward the snow.
“Every shop is closed tomorrow.”
“Mine isn't.”
She turned back.
“You own the garage?”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
“I’ll be doing paperwork.”
“On Christmas?”
“Single dad.”
She nodded as if that explained everything.
Maybe it did.
He closed the hood.
Snow covered both of them now.
They stood facing each other between the vehicles.
Closer than either needed to.
The woman's eyes dropped briefly to his mouth.
His did the same.
The air changed.
Not enough for a kiss.
Enough that both recognized the possibility.
She said softly:
“I still don’t know your name.”