Her father sighed. “I’m not ruling the idea out, but we’ll table it for now. That being said, I am making one last executive decision.” Her father had that look.
Tucker would be hard pressed to define the look to an outsider, but as his daughter, she had no trouble recognizing it. There was a slight compression of his lips. The smallest flaring of his nostrils. He was squinting and reached up to pat his normally rumpled grey hair.
“What decision is that?” She was pretty sure that his look indicated that he thought it was a decision she wouldn’t like. “Pops?”
“I hired someone.”
“Pops, we’ve always done the hiring together.” Even before she’d officially worked for her father, then with him as a partner, he’d had her sit in on interviews. He said he didn’t want her forced to be around someone she didn’t like.
“This one is special. I’ve known the guy for years and he really needed the work. And in the interest of honesty, he’s got a record. White collar, six months in county, still on probation.”
Tucker groaned. “Pops…” She didn’t add anything to it because she knew it was pointless. When her father made his mind up, he was immovable. That’s what his look said. I’m a stone and you can’t budge me. I won’t change my mind. So, she admitted defeat with grace. “When’s he start?”
“Today. Told him to be in by eight-thirty. Wanted to talk to you and smooth things over before he showed up.”
“Yeah, Pops, that’s you, all smooth operatory.”
Her father either didn’t notice her sarcasm, or chose to ignore it as someone knocked on the door and he glanced at his watch. “Punctual. Gotta like that in a new employee,” he said with a grin.
“Come on in,” Tucker called. She expected to see some trouble-hardened man at the door, not… “Mr. Martinez?”
Tyler Martinez was one of the garage’s best customers. He indulged in new vehicles like other people indulged in ice cream. High-end vehicles that fit well with his high-end designer suits, his dark good looks and his power job. But today, there was no designer suit, but rather a well worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt that emphasized the fact the man worked out.
If the lines beneath his shirts were any indication, he’d been working out more than usual.
Not that she usually noticed.
Okay, so she noticed. A woman would have to be dead in order to ignore Tyler Martinez’s sensual dark features. An image of a panther flashed through her mind and she almost laughed at how cliché that felt.
She pasted on her best business smile. Considering how much money and time Tyler spent at the shop it wouldn’t do to be rude. “Mr. Martinez, I’m in a meeting. If you wouldn’t mind waiting for a few minutes, I’ll come get you and we can go over whatever your current vehicle requires.”
“My current vehicle is a 2002 Ford F-150 that has seen better days, but I’m working on it myself, so it doesn’t require any of the shop’s services.” Tyler frowned at her father. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Doesn’t pay to rush my Angelina,” her father said with a trace of pride in his voice. “She comes around to things in her own time. I did tell her, only I hadn’t told her who.”
Tucker looked at Martinez, then at her father. Her mom-senses were tingling, something that normally only happened with Bart. “Told me?”
“Angel, meet Tucker’s Garage’s newest employee, Tyler Martinez.”
“What the hell, Pops?” She turned to Tyler. “You don’t work in a garage. You work for some fancy investment firm and wouldn’t know a driveshaft from a piston.”
Martinez frowned, his voice had a touch of gravel breaking in its normal whiskey smoothness. “Don’t make assumptions about me, Angel.” He dragged her name out, slow and intimate.
Maybe he thought she’d melt, but instead she felt fired up. “And don’t call me Angel. It’s Tucker, if you don’t mind.” Only her father called her Angelina or worse yet, Angel.
“I do mind, but since I’m an employee, my minding doesn’t count. And to set your mind at ease, a driveshaft transmits torque, and a piston transfers force from the expanding gas to the cylinder—”
“You sound like a freakin’ Autos for Dummies book.” Tucker snorted. “I don’t need an armchair mechanic, I need—”
“Angelina,” her father snapped, “do you really think that I’d hire someone less than capable to work at the shop?”
She might fight with her father in private, but he rarely reprimanded her in public.
Rather than feel chagrined, she was more annoyed than ever. “Pops, it’s obvious that there’s a lot I don’t know, isn’t it? I mean, I came into work today and didn’t know my father—my partner in the business—was quitting. And I didn’t know he’s been interviewing potential employees without me and I didn’t know—”
“Maybe I should leave the two of you to decide if I have a job, or not?” Without waiting for a response, Tyler Martinez left the office and shut the door softly behind himself.
“Now, see what you did, Pops?” Tucker said, feeling a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.
“Daughter, I don’t want to have to pull rank, but…” He left the threat hanging there.
“You wouldn’t.” Annoyance beat out all the other emotions. “You’ve never tried to pull a father-knows-best on me since Bart’s dad.”
“And, I hate to say I told you so then, but…”
Frustration? This went beyond that. Tucker was pissed. Seriously pissed. And it was evident that so was her father. She’d tiptoed around him the last five months, but right now she ignored the fact he had a stent, as well as forgot she was trying to help him avoid stress. “But…?”
“Fine. You want me to finish my sentence?” he said, obviously as raring to fight as she was. “Let’s try this. But I told you Bart’s father was no good, and he was. He left you high and dry, and not to mention pregnant. You were only a teenager. A teenager who had to grow up too quick. I haven’t had to play a father-knows-best card because you’ve lived your entire adult life cautiously. To the best of my knowledge, you’ve steered clear of any more good-looking men, and the men you do go out with don’t last more than a few dates at most. Well, Tyler’s good looking and I know he’s asked you out repeatedly in the past, but I also know he’s a hell of a mechanic. Add to that, over the years, he’s become a friend and he needed my help, so I gave it. Yeah, that means I’m sort of dumping him on you, but you need him.”
“I don’t need any man,” Tucker sputtered.
“No, not like that. I mean, I like Tyler, but I want more than an ex-con for my daughter. No, he’s not only a heck of a mechanic, but he’s got experience handling people. Someone like that should take my place. Lou, Joe and North are great guys, but let’s face it, articulate they ain’t. Tyler is.”
“I’m articulate, Pops. I can do more of the customer interaction if I need to.”
“If you did, you’d be taking time away from your work, and let’s face it, the garage has come to rely on your work. Your painting generates a lot of revenue. It’s helped put us on the map. Hell, I’m a partner who’s retiring, and I’m going to rely on you keeping us on the map. People come from states away to have you customize their cars and motorcycles. You’re an artist, Angel, and that’s what you need to focus on.”
He rose slowly and suddenly looked haggard. “Trust me on this. Tyler will be good for the business.”
Tucker’s anger was replaced by