The Fragile Line: Part One (The Fine Line #2) (13 page)

In any case, my mind was off today.

As I entered the office area, Craig—the spitting image of his departed older brother, Logan’s dad, and clearly a recipient of the robust Tanner genes—looked up at me from the papers on his desk. “Hey, Matt.  How’s it going out there?  I see Gary has you working on another beaut.”

“Hell, yeah. She’s my dream car,” I said before explaining the problem I was having with her. 

He leaned back in his chair, “Did you check the choke pull-off?”

I instantly felt like an idiot.  The carburetor should’ve been the first thing I checked, and it had slipped my mind completely. “Nope.  Sure didn’t.” I shook my head at my rookie-like oversight. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he grinned. “Most guys your age wouldn’t know what to do with a carburetor if it crawled up their leg and bit ‘em in the ass.  You’re wise beyond your years, Matt, in more ways than just cars.  We’re lucky to have you here.”

“Appreciate that, Craig.”

Through the windows behind him, my eyes caught a white Lexus GX pull into the parking lot, followed by a black Cadillac Escalade.

“You expecting company?” I nodded toward the lot.

Craig swiveled in his chair to see who it was, “Yeah.  Speaking of Gary, he called this morning, wanting to meet.  Said he had a friend who wanted to see the shop.” 

“You’re not thinking about selling are you?”

He shrugged, “Probably not.  Been here so long I can’t picture my life without this place.  Even if I would consider it, I’d need Logan to be on board since he’s a partner, and there’s no way he’d be ready to let it go.  Gary’s a good customer.  The work you do on his cars puts a good dent in our bills.  I figured it won’t hurt to humor him.  Besides, he was pretty vague on the phone…I have no idea why his friend wants to see this place.  Could be nothing.” 

I squinted my eyes as a familiar-looking man stepped out of the Escalade. “Is that Dalton Davis?”

“From
American Muscle
?”  Craig stood and stepped closer to the window. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

~~~

“This is the Matt you were telling me about?” Dalton said to Gary after introductions. 

“You two know each other?” Gary answered, his white hair perfectly matching his polo shirt.

Dalton nodded, “We met last night.  Good to see you again, kid.”

“Likewise,” I acknowledged. “What brings you here today?”

“Nostalgia.  A little trip down memory lane.” He took a reminiscent look around the office area. “Twenty years ago, before your brother bought the place from me,” he said, pointing to Craig, “it used to be known as Davis Automotive.”

“No shit?” Craig declared in astonishment.

Gary interjected, “Dalton’s father, the original owner of the shop, was the first mechanic I had ever hired after establishing an interest in vintage automobiles many years ago,” he patted Dalton on the shoulder. “When he passed, Dalton took over and did such a fantastic job following in his father’s technician footsteps that he became the only person I trusted with my collectibles.  When he moved to Vegas, my car restorations followed him.”

“Until the show started a few years ago, that is,” Dalton added, “Gary here worried about the publicity and pulled the plug on our arrangement.” 

“What can I say, I’m a private person,” Gary smiled. “I supported your new venture, son. I just didn’t want my cars to be a part of it.  Once Hollywood gets a hold of things, they’re never the same.” 

“Water under the bridge, old man,” Dalton chuckled.

“I continued to add to my collection,” Gary resumed, “but the cars sat, untouched for quite some time before I started bringing them back here to be serviced.  Part of the thrill for me has always been the return on investment, and it was only a matter of time before I’d been drawn back to the auto auctions.  But without Dalton, I needed to find a good mechanic who specialized in classic cars.  You’d be surprised how hard it is to find someone like that these days.” 

Craig and I shared a glance.  We had just been talking about that.

Gary looked at Craig and me and continued, “I gave you boys here at Tanner Automotive a test-run and was thrilled to find that you knew your shit when it came to cars.  Matt here exceeded my expectations, keeping an open line of communication with me about the problems he’d found and how he could help keep costs low.  That old ’53 LaSalle came out of this shop in mint condition.  After that first run, I knew I’d found the right guy for the job.”   

“Thank you, sir,” I acknowledged.

“Speaking of that,” Dalton chimed in, directing his attention to me, “I thought you worked security?”

“I do,” I replied. “That’s my part-time gig.” 

“Well, you do a damn good job for a part-timer.  Ever consider switching careers?” 

“I’m pretty content with the way things are at the moment, sir.  Cars are my passion.  But who knows what the future holds.  I’ll never say never.”

“How ‘bout I say ‘never’ for you,” Craig laughed. “I’d support whatever the future holds for you, Matt, but hot-damn, I’d hate to lose you.”

We continued to talk shop for another half hour or so when I finally excused myself to finish working on the Shelby that the old man called his “black beauty.”  Craig gave the men a tour of the building, minus Logan’s apartment, and after they viewed the garage area, Dalton stayed behind, checking out my work under the hood of the car.

I explained what I had done, and what I planned on doing, and he watched me check the choke pull-off.  As expected, the damn thing didn’t retract.  Together, we assessed the shroud, the heating tube, and the thermostat coil, and found that the thermostat coil had indeed broken.  Since we had no surplus carburetors laying around the shop to pull an intact coil from, I’d have to order the part.  Which meant my work here for the day was done. 

The “old man” had already left to have dinner with the misses, and Craig had subsequently gone back to his office to finish his paperwork.  Mostly, I just wanted to go home to get some shut-eye but didn’t want to be rude, so I offered Dalton a beer.  He graciously accepted. 

After taking his first gulp and proceeding with an
aaaaaahhh
from the carbonation, he sat on the stool next to my Craftsman tool chest and seemed to be at a loss for words. 

As I doused my hands in liquid lava soap and scrubbed the grease off of them in the shop sink on the other side of my tool chest, Dalton spoke-up. “I’m not sure how to say this, Matt, so I’m just going to say it.” 

I dried my hands on a blue shop-rag and smiled, “Go for it, man.”

“Funny.  Listen, my executive producer and I have been at odds about how we’re going to go about finding a cast-member to replace my son on the show.  Time’s running out on us, and she wants to do a public casting call like they’re doing for Marc’s new show.  I want to do things a little more old-school and find someone qualified on my own.  I want someone real, who knows cars.  Someone grounded.  Someone who’s not looking for a career in acting.  I want to get back to basics and away from the damn soap opera that show has become.  The basis of the show is fixing up cars and selling them at auction, it ain’t no
Real Housewives
, and I’ll be damned if I get another drama queen on the show.” 

Holy shit
, was this going where I thought it was going?

“You’d be the perfect guy, Matt.  If you joined my team, my producer would jump for damn joy because you’re the right age, and you’ve got the right look.  I’d just be glad to have a hardworking guy who knows cars.”

Yep, it went there.
  My eyebrows raised up. “I have no idea what to say.”

“Look, I can see you’re happy here, and Gary would probably shit his pants if he knew I was talking to you about this, but it’s an opportunity you’ll want to consider at the very least.  You’d have to maintain residence near the Vegas shop but only during filming season.  The rest of the year, you’d be free to live wherever you’d like.  The pay is good.  I can guarantee you’d triple your income at minimum.  You’d gain experience working on the best custom muscle cars in the nation, you’d get your name out there for any professional endeavors you may be envisioning for the future, you’d have opportunities to be included in promotional events like the one at Rain last night, and you’d even get your own fifteen minutes of fame.”

“It sounds amazing.  I appreciate the consideration, sir, but—“

“Just think about it.  I don’t need an answer today,” he took another swig of his beer and set it down on my tool chest, then pulled a business card out of his back pocket, handing it to me.  “But I’ll need one soon.  Filming is set to start in January.”

I took the card and flipped it over to see his personal cell number written on the back.  “When do you need to know by?”

“I’ll give it a week.  If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you’re not interested.”  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “You have to want it, Matt. I won’t chase after you.” 

I nodded.  “Understood.”

Damn.  Working with Dalton would be the opportunity of a lifetime.  I’d land my absolute dream job.  So why wasn’t I happier about it? 

As I watched him walk away, I didn’t think about money, fame, or opportunity.  Chloe’s smile was what came to mind first, followed by how remarkable one simple look from her made me feel.  All the moments I’ve spent with her up until now flashed through my mind.  Could I give moments like that up?  Could I give up
her
? 

After last night, I thought my feelings for her would be gone.  I thought getting her out of my system—you know, by fucking her senseless—would get her out of my thoughts.  But it’s done the complete opposite.  And I didn’t have a single clue where she stood in the matter.  For all I knew, she’d already moved on. 

Shit.

One week.  I had one week to find out.  One week to decide.  In any case, I had to tell her about the offer.  I had already lost someone by making an impulsive choice, I wasn’t about to let that happen again.  Chloe deserved to know.

###

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading Part One of
The Fragile Line
!  If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends about it, and/or leaving a short review on Goodreads, Amazon, or anywhere else you’d like.  Word of mouth is an author’s best friend!  Part Two is coming soon.  And if you haven’t read
The Fine Line
yet, give it a go! 

Thank you!

Alicia Kobishop

Acknowledgements

I can’t even begin to describe how grateful I am for my husband.  Don, thank you for believing in me.  Thank you for supporting me.  Thank you for helping kick my inner critic in the face. 

Before embarking on my writing journey, I had an important conversation with my kids, letting them know that if they ever felt like I was spending too much time writing, and not enough time with them, that they could let me know, and that I would make time for them because they are more important to me that anything.  Thank you to my kiddos for keeping me in check, and for helping me to always remember the important things in life. 

Thank you to Lori Rattay for the invitation to attend the North Iowa Book Bash in April of 2016.  I’m not sure if you know this, but your invitation lit a spark, that drove me to buckle down hard enough to actually finish a story that I had started at a point where “life” had gotten in the way of writing.  Thank you so much for reigniting that fire. 

To my beta readers: Verna McQueen of Verna Loves Books, Alissa Evanson of A is for Alpha B is for Books, and Lori Rattay of BF Bookies.  Your honest input and guidance has been absolutely invaluable.  Thank you for your feedback, support, and encouragement, and for helping to make this story the best it can be.  

To every reader, reviewer, and blogger who has given their unlimited support.  You are the best cheerleaders an author could ever ask for.  Your optimism inspires me!

High school senior Liv Evans has one rule: No attachments. She’s lost enough in her life and has vowed to do whatever it takes to make sure she never again feels the emptiness of losing someone she loves. Boys are a fun distraction, but a serious relationship is something she’d rather live without. Her determination for a future free of pain and heartbreak is put to the test when she meets–and quickly forms an unexpected bond–with Logan Tanner.

Logan has always been a free spirit, but ever since a life-changing event took place, which left him doubting the integrity of those who are closest to him, he’s taken that term to a whole new dangerous level. Learning the hard way that life is too short for worries or work–and that women can’t be trusted–Logan has exchanged steady work for street racing. When Liv walks into his world, everything he thought he knew about life and women is challenged.

In The Fine Line, Liv and Logan will discover if it’s possible for true love to have a future, or if history is destined to repeat itself.

Excerpt from

The Fine Line

“Liv, wake up,” Logan whispered softly.  A hum came out of my throat as I shifted off his shoulder and turned away from him, burrowing my face in the cool pillow beside us.  The soft fabric smelled like him and I took one more deep, heavenly breath in.  How long had I been asleep?  Based on my current comatose state, not long. 

His hand casually brushed up and down my arm.  “You’ve got to see this.” 

Intrigued, my eyes cracked open, just enough to see the blurry orange and purple hues reflect on the bare walls of Logan’s bedroom.  His fingers brushed my hair off my face and behind my ear. 

“Open your eyes, baby.  It’s beautiful.”

He called me baby.

I turned to face him as I opened my eyes, confused and unexpectedly delighted by his term of endearment.  When my eyes finally focused and saw his beautiful face lit up by the colors of the sunrise, my bewilderment grew incredibly.  His eyes glowed as he studied me.  I had never seen him look this peaceful and content.  He smiled at my expression then huffed out a single laugh. 

“It slipped,” he said as if he read my mind.  “Get over it.” 

He moved off the bed and leisurely walked to the window, placing his wrist on the window frame above his head and his other hand on his hip, as he gazed out with a more contemplative expression.  Then he turned to face me and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.  He extended his hand, motioning for me to join him. 

I didn’t need to see the sunrise.  The beautiful man that stood before me, bare chested and painted in colors was enough.  I couldn’t take my eyes off him.  His smile faded as he dropped his arm to his side, and he stared at me for a moment. 

Slowly, the melancholy grew in his eyes.  “I don’t know what the hell to think when you look at me like that, Liv.  Everything about that look says you want me.  That you need me, like I need you.  But something tells me you’d freak if I tried anything with you right now.  I’ve never been so fucking confused in my life.”

Shit.
  I tried to snap myself out if it, but I still couldn’t look away.  I was being unfair to him.  He deserved so much better than me, so much more.  He deserved the world.  He deserved something I couldn’t give him.  I sat up with my feet dropping down to the floor.  He deserved an explanation.

###