Taylor

Chapter Six

A few days had passed by before Sabrina called me.

"Hey, Taylor. I just wanted to let you know that the job is yours if you want it."

Did I want it? I paused for a moment as I weighed the pros and cons. Pros would be extra money for fixing up the house, no longer sitting around the house, and seeing Luke sometimes. Cons were being around people, and seeing Luke. I frowned. Did I really want to see Luke? Of course the answer was yes. I couldn't be friends with him, but I could be his employee and see him from time to time.

"When do I start?" I finally responded.

I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "Can you come in an hour for some training?"

I agreed and an hour later I was standing behind the bar looking at the tablet she had shown me the other day.

"It's really not that hard. We get really busy on the weekends, but you can just work the weekdays until you get more familiar with recipes and how things are done."

"Sounds good." I put the tablet down and leaned against the bar. "How did you end up working here anyway? I mean... like... last I remember you and Luke didn't like each other.

She snickered. "A lot can change in four years, Taylor."

"You're telling me," I mumbled.

For the next two hours, I helped Sabrina with whatever she needed help with and tried to learn as much as possible. If weekends were the busiest, my goal was to get shifts for those days so I could make more money.

At the end of the day, she gave me my shift calendar which had me working every weekday and a couple of weeknights. When I got home, I stuck the calendar on the fridge, then pulled the trash out of the trash can and took it outside.

"Dammit," I heard a woman complain followed by the sound of metal hitting metal.

I glanced at the house next door just as Emily stood up straight and stretched her back. She stood in front of an open hood of a small black car and looked irritated.

"Hey," I called to her.

"Oh, hey Taylor." She reached for a rag and wiped her hands on it.

"Car problems?"

She nodded and rolled her eyes. "I have had this old thing since I was 14. It probably should have died a long time ago, but I refuse to let that happen." She laughed and shrugged.

"Do you need some help?"

"Nah, I've got it. But thanks."

I looked down at her grease covered hands then back at her face where she had a smudge of grease on her chin and above her eyebrow. "Yeah, it looks like you do," I teased. "Well, good luck with all that." I walked back inside and shut the door.

Before I could make it to the kitchen to find something to eat, there was a quick knock at my door. When I opened it, Emily stood on the other side smiling sheepishly.

"I lied, I do need help... would you mind giving me a ride to Tipton Auto Parts? I can't drive my car."

"Oh, uh... yeah. Sure. Let me just... get my keys." I shut the door and sighed. Why did I have to go and offer my help? What if she starts thinking she can bang on my door for anything?

I shook my head in irritation. She better not be like that.

"Whoa, that's a nice truck," she said in aw when I opened the garage door.

I smiled. "It was my dad's. He put a lot of work into it."

"Did you help him any?"

"Not as much as I probably should have." She looked at me quizzically. "He passed away a few years ago."

"Oh, that sucks."

I raised my eyebrow at her response—I was tired of hearing condolences and appreciated that she didn't give any.

When we got to the store, I followed her as she walked straight to the part she needed.

"You must know this store pretty well."

She laughed. "It feels like I'm here all the time having to get some new part."

"How come you don't just get a new car?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why would I do that?"Her tone was defensive and that threw me off. "This car is perfectly fine. It's just old and needs some TLC sometimes."

I stared at her, not quite sure how to respond. "I wasn't judging your choice, just asking a question out of curiosity. Sorry." I added the last part rather awkwardly and rubbed the back of my neck.

A frown etched across her lips. "I'm sorry... I guess I just get defensive about it... it has sentimental value." She grabbed the part she needed. "Are you going to the Memorial Day parade?"

"No." There was no way I was going to that. I had been around military stuff long enough and had no desire to be around it ever again.

"Seems like you'd want to."

"Well I don't," I snapped. I waited for her to get offended by my response, but all she did was look at me for a moment.

"That's a shame. I'm in the parade." She smiled and walked to my truck.

When we pulled into my driveway, she unbuckled and turned to me. "Thanks for the lift."

I watched her walk back to her car before I headed inside and sat down on my couch. I stared at the paint swatches above my TV, but my mind drifted to the woman next door. What if I had offended her? I chewed on my bottom lip in thought, unable to push away the discomfort I felt from that thought. Why would it matter? In fact, it would be good if she was. Then she'd leave me alone.

I stood up and went to the front window to peer out; Emily was wiping her hands off on her cloth, a sign that she might be done. Curious if she had been able to fix it, I went outside to ask.

"Did you fix your car?"

"Try starting it and we'll see."

I opened the driver's door and turned the key. The car seemed to fight starting but, after a few seconds, it finally gave in. I stood up and looked at Emily's grinning face.

"She lives yet another day," she stated proudly, shutting the hood. "Come on." She gestured for me to follow.

When we got to her front door, she stepped inside but I lingered outside feeling too uncomfortable to go in. "You can come in," she said. When I didn't move, she smiled. "I'll be right back."

She disappeared and a moment later returned with two beers. She popped the top off of mine and handed it to me before opening hers. "Cheers," she said as she held her bottle out.

"To another day," I said and gently tapped my bottle against hers before taking a drink.

Just then, a Mustang pulled into her driveway. I heard Emily sigh before she got off her porch and went to the car. A man sat in the driver's seat looking at me as she approached him. He waited for her to tap on his window before putting it down. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't look like a very pleasant conversation. After a couple minutes, the guy pulled his car out of the driveway and Emily came back to the porch looking irritated.

"Brett doesn't like when I have guy friends," she informed me as she took another drink.

"Your boyfriend?"

She nodded her head.

"He doesn't trust you?"

"He doesn't trust you and everyone else." She shrugged. "You should probably go home. I'm sorry. I just don't really feel like fighting with him today." She frowned apologetically.

"It's all good. I'll see you around, Emily."

I left her porch and went home finding it irritating that she let that guy control her like that. She should be able to be friends with anyone she wants–and be trusted.

The guy must be an idiot.