Lynn looked up from her phone and arched an eyebrow. “I smell gossip,” she said, setting her phone aside. “Spill.”

 Patti took a moment to collect her thoughts and to order a small sub before venturing down that treacherous path of depression and disillusionment. “So, I start with catching Kyle in bed with a hooker—”

 “Oh, my God! A hooker?” Lynn screeched. If Patti could have seen her own face in a mirror that day, she imagined it would have looked something like Lynn’s now. Her jaw dropped in shock, her eyes wide in stunned disbelief.  Lynn reached out to cover Patti’s hand. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Did you kick him in the balls? Tell me you kicked him in the balls.”

 “I wish,” Patty said with regret. “I did throw the bitch’s spike heels at the back of his head, though.”

 “Did you make contact?”

 Patti grinned. “Did I ever.”

 “That’s my girl.” Lynn patted her hand and drew back to her side of the table to resume eating. “So a hooker, huh?”

 Patti’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I don’t think she was actually a hooker. I mean, I don’t think Kyle would ever have to stoop that low in order to find someone willing to spread their legs, you know?” In fact, Kyle was pretty damn handsome. He was tall with an athletic build. His dirty blond hair was wavy and he kept it at the perfect length to entice a woman to run her fingers through it. And his smile was killer. It’s what drew her to him in the first place. He used all the clichéd, cheesy pick-up lines that men and women both laugh over, but he delivered them with a knowing smile, and that made him just plain cute in her eyes.

 A man who could make a woman laugh was something to be treasured. But it was all blown to shit when he proved to be like all the rest of the men she’d ever dated. Now, all she could see was the troll living inside of him, using women without regard to their feelings.

 “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig,” Lynn said.

 “I know.” Patti sighed. She picked at the wrapper surrounding her sub. She’d lost her appetite.

 “Sweetie, I think we both knew going into this thing that Kyle was never going to be the man you would marry. It was fun while it lasted, but, hey, it’s over now and good riddance. The man was not good enough for you.”

 “Thanks.” Patti’s lips curled up in a soft, shy smile.

 “You’re welcome. Now eat. I will not have that jerk making my friend anorexic.”

 Patti did as she was told. They ate in companionable silence, and when they finished, Patti decided to steal a few more minutes with her friend, so she walked with Lynn back to her office. She used the time to tell her about losing her job and about Jon.

 “You mean to tell me that guy from the club the other night hit you?”

 “He did,” Patti said as they came to a stop outside Lynn’s workplace.

 “That’s gotta be fate if ever I heard it.”

 “Not everything is fate, Lynn,” Patti chuckled.

 “Well, no, not everything,” Lynn agreed with a roll of her eyes. “But how often do you meet some random person twice in forty-eight hours? I think someone is trying to tell you something.”

 “Oh, so now the angels are matchmaking? Come on, Lynn, that’s just crazy talk, even from you. Besides,” she said with a twinge of hurt, “he said he’d call and he never did. I think that speaks for itself.”

 “It’s only been a day!” Lynn shouted in exasperation. “Give the guy some time for crying out loud.” She backed toward the revolving glass doors and pointed a finger at her. “Promise me that when this guy calls, you’ll go out with him. One date, and if he turns out to be a total bastard, you never have to see him again.”

 “I don’t know, Lynn,” Patti whined. Sure, she was attracted to the guy, and yeah, he seemed to be interested in her. But how interested could he be if he wasn’t more eager to see her again, and was it even a good idea for her to get even remotely involved with another guy so soon after Kyle?

 “I can see you grinding your gears and I don’t like it. Stop thinking for once and just have some fun!” Lynn stopped just outside the doors, forcing people to go around her if they wanted inside. “Do it for me. Promise you’ll give it a try when he calls.”

 “If he calls,” Patti reminded her.

 “When he calls. Have some faith in your hotness!”

 Patti threw her hands into the air. “Fine, if he calls, I promise I will go out with him on one date.”

 “That’s all I ask,” Lynn sang. She blew her a kiss and disappeared inside.

 Great, Patti thought as she started the short walk back to her house. She’d just verbally contracted herself to a date with a man who had probably already forgotten her existence. At least that got her out of their agreement, but the more she thought about it, the more she wasn’t sure she was happy about it. It kind of stung to think that she could be forgotten so easily, but she refused to dwell on it. If he weren’t interested, then neither was she.

 As she stepped through the front door, she heard the faint buzz of her phone in her purse, and dug it out. She frowned, not recognizing the number on the caller ID. “Hello?”

 “Hi.”

 At the sound of his deep, smooth voice, Patti nearly melted into a puddle in the middle of the entryway floor. “Hi,” she said, her voice shaking. In the background, she could hear male voices and wondered where he was just then.

 “I’m at work, so I can’t talk long,” he said, getting straight to the point. “I was thinking dinner tonight, eight o’clock. Are you free?”

 Patti nibbled her bottom lip. A pit opened in her stomach as she thought about being alone with him, but Lynn’s words echoed in her ears, reminding her of their agreement. She’d never hear the end of it if she passed up his offer, not that she really wanted to anyway. The guy was ridiculously hot. Of course, she was going to go out with him! Still, she took a moment to pretend she had to think over her newly wide-open schedule.

 “Yeah, I think that should work out alright.”

 “Great,” he said with a smile in his voice. “I’ll pick you up at eight, then.”

 “I’ll be waiting.” Hanging up, Patti grimaced. Why did she say she would be waiting? The more she repeated the words in her head, the more pathetic they sounded. Collapsing into the recliner, she closed her eyes and considered the evening ahead. She’d be alone with Jon, in his car, expected to make conversation. Well, that was nerve-racking. Then she’d have to eat, which meant she had to order food. Where would he take her? What would she order? Definitely something without garlic, or onions. Nothing too sloppy either, like spaghetti.

 She was plotting out each move with lethal efficiency, when something occurred to her. She was getting all worked up for nothing. So what if she was going on a date with a hot guy? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it a million times before. They’d go out, eat, talk, and get to know one another a little, maybe a little touchy feely action, and that would be it. She’d have a nice evening out, and full stomach and she would move on with her life. As her father would tell her, she was making a mountain out of a molehill.

 She glanced at the clock. She had almost seven hours to kill before he showed up. Determined not to make a big deal out of it, Patti pulled herself from the chair and made her way calmly to her bedroom to change into her grease-stained shorts and tank top.

* * *

“Dag nabbit!” Patti shouted. She slid out from under the car, using her feet to guide her, and treaded back into the garage. The wrench fell back into the toolbox with a loud, metallic clang. Pinching her injured finger, she held up her hand to inspect the damage.

 It wasn’t as horrible as she thought it’d be. There was no bone showing or blood gushing, but there was a faint, feathered line marring the pink of her nail bed where it had bent back. “Damn, that’s gonna suck,” she muttered to herself. But not as bad as when Kyle showed up at her door earlier that afternoon.

 Shortly after hanging up with Jon, there was a knock at the door. She’d opened it to find a very annoyed Kyle. He’d shoved past her, heading directly for the bedroom where he’d stored the majority of his belongings, but she’d already beaten him to it.

 Retrieving a black canvass duffle bag from the hall closet, she dropped it on the floor in front of the open door and called out to him. The memory still tickled her pink. “Hey, looking for this?”

 “You already packed my stuff?” Kyle asked, gearing up for one of his hissy fits. “Great, what’d you do, cut holes in all my shirts? Dump a gallon of bleach on everything?”

 “I wish,” Patti had told him candidly, “but I didn’t feel like expending that much energy on worthless bullshit. I think I’ve done enough of that over the past eight months.” She looked him up and down meaningfully. Then, as he walked back toward her to retrieve the bag, Patti pulled her leg back and sent it sailing clear off the porch. “I suggest you follow suit before the same thing happens to your ass,” she told him, then smiled and waved as he stomped out the door, cursing up a storm.

 Asshole.

 Besides a pretty face and a hot body, what had she ever seen in him?

 It was all water under the bridge now, though, and Patti had far more important and interesting things to occupy herself.

 With her hands on her hips, Patti turned to assess her once pristine car. She’d ordered the parts and a few tools to help her repair the damage from the accident. They wouldn’t be delivered until sometime tomorrow, so she’d decided to keep herself busy by cleaning the spark plugs, changing out the filters, and giving her baby an oil change. A happy car meant a happy driver. Still, neither of them would be truly happy until she’d restored it to perfect condition, and that was going to take some time.

 She could have just handed it over to an auto body repair tech and let them take care of it, but she liked working with her hands. Plus, she couldn’t shake the memory of her father telling her to never let another person fiddle around under the hood. That went double for the body. Come to think of it, he’d probably meant that in more ways than one.

 Still, Patti held fast to the idea that she and her father, having built most of the car with their bare hands, were the only two people in the world who really knew how it worked. Now that he was gone, the responsibility was hers alone, and she refused to tarnish his memory by letting someone else tinker around with it. If anyone were going to screw it up, it would be her.

 After her date tonight, she decided that the week ahead would be designated to restoring the car. She’d already decided to opt out of any gathering her friends might invite her to, and to close herself off from the outside world for the rest of the week so she could focus all of her attention on the task at hand. Plus, being without a job was like taking an extended vacation. She had all the time in the world to dedicate to it.

 Granted, no one in their right mind would consider being wedged under a chassis and covered in grease a vacation, but then they hadn’t grown up in her household. Patti was practically born under a car, so it made sense that she felt at home under one.

 Returning to the box of tools, she selected a new wrench and the oil pan. Lying back on the creeper, she slid back under.

 As she let the pan fill with oil, Patti let her thoughts drift back to the accident. To a set of beautiful, intense blue eyes that melted her to her very core. She should be furious that Jonathon Bradshaw had caused her so much grief, but the only anger she could dredge up had absolutely nothing to do with her car and everything to do with the two women she’d seen hanging on his arm at the club.

 What was it with men who found the idea of having two women at once so appealing? Was it greed, or just a lack of security? She’d never seen the draw, and now more than ever, she found the idea of it completely repulsive. And yet, it wasn’t as if they were together. He was free to do whatever he wanted with his time, and who was she to judge anyway? It wasn’t like she was living up what was left of her youth. If she were wise, she would take a page out of his book and do something daring, like streaking naked down the beach on a Saturday. Not that it’d ever be an option for her, but still, it was an idea. She wasn’t adverse to having fun or being daring.

 With the pan full, Patti slid back out and rolled to her feet, careful not to slop oil everywhere. Setting aside the pan, she ducked back under the car, replaced the cap, and double-checked to make sure everything was tight.