So I did.
For two years.
Then Laura brought me the Mercedes.
She arrived at the shop on a Saturday morning.
I was underneath a Ford Explorer when Marcus called me.
Laura stood in the open garage doorway wearing sunglasses and a white tennis skirt.
Behind her was a tow truck.
On it sat Brent’s black Mercedes.
The entire front end was destroyed.
Crushed hood.
Missing bumper.
Damaged headlight.
Bent front wheel.
Cracked windshield.
“What happened?”
“I hit a deer.”
I had repaired plenty of cars that hit deer.
That Mercedes hadn’t hit a deer.
She tossed the keys onto my desk.
“I need it Friday.”
I looked at the damage.
“Laura, this could take more than a week. I have customers already scheduled.”
“Cancel them.”
“I can’t. They need their cars.”
She removed her sunglasses.
“Rick and Noah are supposed to stay with you this weekend.”
My stomach tightened.
“It would be a shame if they couldn’t.”
I stared at her.
“You’d keep my children away from me over a car repair?”
She moved closer.
“Don’t make me prove it.”
Then I asked the obvious question.
“Why bring it here? Brent owns six dealerships. They all have body shops.”
Something changed in her expression.
Only for a moment.
“Because you’re cheap.”
Then she added that Brent didn’t want employees at his dealerships gossiping about his wife’s wreck.
“Friday. Five o’clock.”
The tow truck unloaded the Mercedes.
Marcus stood beside me, staring at the damage.
“Boss?”
