Fender Bender Blues by Niecey Roy Read Free Book Online

the insurance company had already found her at fault—why hadn’t he swerved to avoid the collision?
    Her dad ignored the statement and dropped the keys into Rach’s open palm. “She’s got a full tank of gas. Make sure you wash her twice a week.” Before she could close her fingers around the keys, he snatched them back and gave her a hard stare. “And no fast food in my car.”
    Rach plucked the keys from her dad’s fingers. “I wouldn’t dare, not in a classic.” She leaned up and kissed him on a scruffy cheek. He was growing a beard and it had to be driving her mom nuts.
    His face relaxed. “Okay, then. I’ll see you soon.”
    “Love you Dad, you’re the best!” She hurried around the car and slid inside, tucking her legs beneath the large steering wheel. Waving at him through the window, she called out, “She’s in good hands. You’ve got nothing to worry about!”
    His Hawaiian shirt billowed in the spring breeze and his lips were pinched together in a nervous line as she drove away.
    Another five minutes in the driveway and he might have changed his mind about loaning out his classic.
    She gave the car a little gas just in case he changed his mind about lending her the car and chased her down to get it back.

Chapter Seven
    William, her new teenage supervisor and son of the owners of Copy Masters, hadn’t stopped staring at her since she’d sat down at the workstation he’d proudly dubbed hers. She sat at her designated spot against the wall with an ancient computer that froze up on her every time she sent the printer instructions. The pamphlet she’d been given for her first project at Copy Masters was taking much longer to complete than she’d expected of something that had sounded so simple.
    The print screen was frozen on the monitor and she struck an angry finger at the Enter key again. No way was karma coming around this late in life. The only time she’d ever been mean to anyone had been in high school. The girls had been horrible to her and she’d been horrible right back. Surely karma understood kids being kids.
    “Let me help,” William offered from behind, startling her from images of bratty high school girls in cheerleader outfits making fun of Rach’s hair. She leaned to the right as he crowded her space. The smell of cologne invaded her nostrils and she held back a cough. A lock of mousy brown hair rested over his eyes. He swiped it away and it fell back onto his forehead the moment he released it.
    He flashed his shiny metal grille at her and she smiled back. Why hadn’t his parents thought to do the orthodontia in grade school? Didn’t they know how cruel teenagers could be? She shuddered, remembering the teasing she’d endured in high school when her hair had been a much brighter orange and less manageable.
    He tried to look down the front of her shirt, an impossible feat with her high-collared Japanese-style blouse. Amused, she scooted her chair over to give him the space he didn’t want and two seconds later the computer was back in working order and the printer across the room hummed to life.
    “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She scooted her chair back and inspected the screen. “How’d you get it to work?”
    He grinned and wiggled his bony hands. “Magic fingers.”
    Rach returned his smile, but decided the best comment was no comment at all and escaped to the copy machine. When she bent over to peer at the display, he ogled her from behind. She sighed and waited for the copies to print.
    She hadn’t realized there was so much to a copy machine. The big beast in the back printed two-sided, correlated—whatever the hell that meant—stapled and even hole-punched. She’d already messed up a batch of one hundred copies, hid the mistakes, and tried again.
    An hour later, she was taking out her frustration on a stapler when her cell phone rang. Happy for the interruption, she glanced at the display and answered without a second thought. “You never called me