The Right Men for the Job

Copyright © Saskia Walker, 2009
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.

Excerpt From: The Right Men for the Job

“Hey Deacon, look lively. We have a customer.” Deacon frowned. It was past closing time and they already had a backlog of cars in the workshop. The vehicle he was working on had to be ready before ten the next morning. “Can you cover it? I’m busy here.” “Oh yeah,” Vico replied. “Sure I can. It’s the goddess from the office across the street. I’m glad to be of service for such a beautiful customer.” “The goddess?” Deacon dropped his tools and made a move to climb out of the inspection pit. As he did he caught sight of her walking towards the entrance to the workshop. The early evening sun was lowering in the sky behind her, and that only emphasised her outline. She really was here and Vico—his junior partner—was already on his way over to greet her, prowling like an alley cat. Deacon cursed under his breath, and then dented his forehead on the underside of the car as he hastened out of the pit. He’d been lusting after this lady since they’d opened the workshop. They both had. They were often attracted to the same type, but usually Deacon backed off. Vico could charm whoever he wanted—women and men. He was Eastern European and displayed old world charm in his every move. Vico was also bisexual and flaunted it, whereas Deacon was straight. He also wasn’t so sure of himself, so he usually threw the towel in if another man got territorial. Not this time. If the goddess from across the street was coming over, he really did want his chance to chat with her as much as Vico did. “Greetings, how may I be of assistance?” Vico already had the charm at full throttle, and he’d also had the foresight to clean his hands on a cloth as he approached the woman. She smiled Vico's way, tentatively, and then glanced at the sign over the workshop door as she passed under it, entering their space. In one hand she held a small shoulder bag, and a key fob dangled from her long, elegant fingers. Her glossy black hair swung to her shoulders in a long bob. She wore a short, fitted dress in some kind of shiny blue fabric. Simple, but pure style. The strappy high-heeled sandals she wore made her shapely legs look even longer. Deacon rubbed his hands over his head and then forced himself to drag his attention away long enough to check his hands. Oil everywhere. No doubt he had it on his head as well and looked like a right idiot. “Hi,” the goddess said, “I work across the road and I’m afraid my car won’t start. It’s a classic and it’s a bit temperamental. I have a mechanic who usually services it for me, but he’s near home and that’s ten miles away. I need to get to an appointment this evening.” She glanced his way and smiled. It mesmerised Deacon. Suddenly he didn’t mind so much that she might be amused at his appearance. “I wondered if one of you could take a look at it for me?” she added.