Page 31 of Let Me Keep You

“I wasn’t serious.”

“Yeah, but look at them. I can take care of it and anything else you need, then meet your dad after lunch.”

She meets my eyes again. Her gaze nearly paralyzes me in place, and I wonder if she feels it too.

“Under the sink in the break room. Extra rags are in the supply closet.”

I nod and get to work. I find a bucket, soap, and spare towels. After filling it with scalding water, I grab my supplies and go outside. I’m drenched with sweat after washing one window from top to bottom. It’s the distraction I need, and I lose myself in these damn windows.

I try not to let my thoughts wander too much, but after all this time, it’s hard to believe she’s only a few feet away.

Her mannerisms are still the same. When she’s concentrating hard, she bites her bottom lip and tilts her head. I used to find it so adorable when I’d tell her about the military because she didn’t fully understand it. She used to be a crossword junkie and still taps her pen against the paper when she’s lost in thought.

It takes me over two hours to clean the glass, and it’s so clean when I look inside that I can see Gemma staring at me.

When I catch her, she glances away.

Boundaries, I remind myself. She’s fucking engaged to a man who can give her everything she’s ever wanted. What do I have to offer other than a fucked-up past and a pile of baggage?

I tackle the restroom next and don’t leave until it sparkles. Anything to take me away from being in the lobby right now.

When it’s lunchtime, I put away the supplies, then let Gemma know I’m going on my break. She tells me I have an hour, which is plenty of time to rinse off the sweat at home and change clothes. I’ll have to hurry so I can grab something to eat before I return.

After I clean up, I stop by the pub and grab a cheeseburger since it’s on the way to the garage. Once I scarf down my food in four big bites, I rush back.

When I walk in, Gemma ignores my existence like I’m an annoying mosquito. Avoiding me is for the best, or at least that’s what I tell myself so we don’t get too close.

Going out to the shop, I find Jerry happily sipping on a milkshake. There’s an old malt shop on the corner of Main where all the older people like to visit. I forgot about that place until now.

“Ready to get started?” he asks.

“Sure am.”

He takes me over to the lift where a car is already in the air. “This one needs an oil change and tire rotation.” He peeks his head out the door where the small side parking lot is full. “And so do those six. I’ll be workin’ on these Jeep engines for the rest of the week, so if you can take care of all the service items, that’d help me out a ton.”

“No problem. Sounds easy enough,” I answer confidently.

“Good, but if you have any issues or questions, just ask.”

“Will do.”

It’s bitch work, but I’m happy to do it. As I grab the tools and filters I’ll need, Jerry calls out my name.

“Yeah?” I spin toward him.

“Good job with the windows. I can actually see my reflection in them now,” he says with a belly laugh.

“Thank you, sir.” I smile, then continue.

For the rest of the day, I spend my time carefully changing out oil filters and tightening and loosening bolts and lug nuts. When I finish each car and truck, I give Gemma the keys after I’ve parked them out front for pick up.

By closing time, I’m exhausted. My arms are sore from moving heavy tires around, and my clothes are drenched with sweat and grease. Even with a big box fan and all the doors open, the humidity is still torturous.

I go inside after finishing the oil change on the last car for the day, walk past Gemma at the counter, and grab some water from the dispenser. Just as she goes to lock the door, an older clean-cut man walks in carrying an oversized bouquet of pink and white roses.

And I know exactly who he is.

The way he carries himself tells me he thinks he’s hot shit. It’s almost comical how smug he looks, but I keep my opinions to myself. I would’ve never pictured Gemma with someone like him.