His Uptown Girl by Gail Sattler Read Free Book Online

both turned simultaneously as a tall, good-looking man in an expensive suit walked in.
    George fumbled her coffee mug, spilling a little over the edge. A splash of coffee dribbled onto one boot.
    Bob stared at this new potential customer, one better dressed than the majority of people who walked in off the street. He’d probably had a breakdown mid-trip, as the neighborhood wasn’t exactly the center of the high-rise financial district.
    Instead of looking at Bob, as most potential customers did when they needed help, the newcomer only had eyes…and raised eyebrows, for George. He surveyed her from head to safety-workboot covered toes.
    â€œHello, Georgette.”
    Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Hello, Tyler.”
    Tyler gazed around the room, taking in everything from the work board to the coffee machine to the old couch, and treating Bob as just another furnishing. Bob tried not to take it personally.
    â€œI need some work done on my car.” Tyler focused on the crest on George’s coveralls, blinked, then looked back up to her face. “Can you help me?”
    George cleared her throat. “What seems to be the problem? With your car.”
    â€œIt, uh… It makes this noise every once in a while, and I thought I should have it looked at.”
    It was Bob’s gut feeling that there wasn’t really anything wrong with Tyler’s car, and that Tyler was there only to see George.
    To give them some privacy, he walked into the shop.
    â€œHey, Bob, did you see what just pulled in?”
    He turned toward Bart. I don’t want to know what Tyler drives, Bob thought. “What?” he asked.
    Bart jerked his head in the direction of Bay Four’s open door.
    He could see a shiny new Porsche through the large opening.
    A Porsche so new that any alleged noise would be covered by the warranty, and could be fixed at the dealership.
    Bob resolutely ignored the car, fixing his attention instead on the large window between the office and theshop. George was standing at the counter, writing something down. Tyler was leaning forward, resting his elbows on the counter.
    â€œLooks like you’ve got competition,” Bart’s voice drifted from behind him.
    Bob spun around.
    â€œNo one is competing,” he mumbled, then began searching through his tool caddy for just the right wrench.
    â€œIf you say so.” Bart shrugged, then turned around to continue his current project.
    As soon as Bart was busy, Bob turned to watch Georgette.
    She didn’t seem very excited to see her acquaintance, and Bob didn’t know why he found that comforting. Her behavior reinforced it—she shook her head a few times, then glanced through the window, straight at him.
    Bob quickly turned his head down and continued his search for the wrench. When he found his spare, he picked it up and turned to continue the job he was supposed to be doing when the movement of the door of Tyler’s Porsche opening caught his eye. Slowly and carefully, the Porsche was backed out of the parking spot and driven away, purring like the well-tuned machine it was, not a suspicious noise to be heard.
    Bob pulled the rag out of his pocket, wiped his hands, and returned to the lobby, where George was busily typing purchase orders into the computer.
    â€œI see your friend left.”
    He waited for her to deny that Tyler was her friend, but she didn’t.
    â€œI told him that if he thought there was a problem,he should take it back to the dealership where he got it, because anything wrong would still be under warranty.”
    He again waited for her to say something more, anything, but silence hung between them.
    He cleared his throat and stepped behind the counter. “Let’s go over today’s lineup together.”
    She nodded silently as he paged through the orders. When he’d divided up the work for the day, she logged off the computer, picked up her pile, and made her way