Her phone buzzed and she glanced down, expecting more news from Jess. It wasn’t her assistant.
Saks: Hi, Beautiful. How’s your day going?
Chrissy put her head in her hands and groaned.
“Why,” asked Luke, “are you looking at your phone every five minutes?”
“Sorry.” Saks turned his attention to the Suzuki, whose owner complained of its loss of power. He revved the engine and listened to the sound. The engine sounded just fine—for a Suzuki. He didn’t like the Hayabusa GSX1300R. Even though it was a speedy bike, he didn’t enjoy the heavy frame that demanded he muscle into the turns to keep the bike upright. He sighed and stopped revving the bike.
“What do you think?” Luke asked from another bay. He was working on getting the winterized bikes ready for spring riding.
“Head gasket? Not sure. I’ll have to break it out and inspect it.”
“Em,” Luke called to his wife in the next room, the reception area and office, “price out a head gasket set for a 2008 Suzuki Hayabusa GSX1300R.”
“Sure, hon,” she said.
Saks rolled his eyes at the bike. No, ‘I’m busy,’ or ‘wait a minute.’ Just a simple ‘sure, hon.’ Emily worked hard, so Saks knew she was in the middle of something. But she never complained when Luke called on her. No, this couple enjoyed being in each other's company regardless of where they were.
Today, of all days, it galled him. Not that he wasn’t glad for his boss and friend, but being around this happily married couple reminded him of what he didn’t possess.
And that the babe he slept with last night hadn't returned his text.
He was a fucking idiot to think a classy woman like Chrissy would go for a grease monkey like him.
Emily stood in the door of shop and hovered in the doorway. “Saks, did you check the ignition casing?”
“What?” said Saks. His mind was focused on two things, disassembling the engine and a golden-haired vixen who screamed when she came.
“Did you check the ignition casing? There is a recall on that model on the internet. A production problem causes the wires to wear, resulting in a full or partial loss of power.”
“Recall?” Luke called from his bay. “Honey, get on the phone with them and ask if they’ll cover repair from our shop.”
“I will, sweetie, but the nearest dealership is only twelve miles away, so they probably won’t.”
“Shit,” mumbled Saks. Dealers handled recalls. Even though Luke’s shop had an excellent reputation, they didn’t have Suzuki certification. Luke hadn’t pursued it because he’d built his business on Harleys.
“Yeah. Saks, check out the ignition before pulling the engine.”
“Will do, boss. Good call, Emily. Thanks.” For a half hour, Saks poked around the wiring and found the worn casing. It was just a small spot, but it allowed the wires exposure to the elements. He gave Luke the bad news that the owner would have to take it to the dealership if he wanted it repaired for free.
But Luke wasn't about to give up. “Em,” called Luke again. “Call the Suzuki shop to see if the recall is still valid on that bike.”
“Sure thing, hon.”
Luke stood from his crouching position next to the Harley he was working on, and wiped his hands on a rag. “Let’s get lunch,” he said.
“What about Emily?”
“She’s leaving for the day after we come back. She doesn’t mind manning the fort for lunch.”
“I’ve got a sandwich in the fridge.”
“Chuck it. I’m buying.”
Luke buying was a rare thing, so Saks wouldn't pass that up. And there was no reason not to kill two birds with one stone. “Sure, how about the Red Bull?”
“The Red Bull?”
“Yeah, I left my bike there last night.”
Luke shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”
Sheldon, the owner, stood behind the bar when they arrived. He nodded at Saks after they both removed their Hades’ Spawn jackets and hung them by the door. The Roccos insisted no one displayed their colors in the bar, and those bikers who didn’t honor the edict found themselves barred.
Surprisingly, a banner hung from the rafters. “Spring Dance” it said, giving a date of this coming Saturday. “Music, appetizers, and beer, all inclusive, $49.99 per person. See bartender for tickets.” Saks stared in disbelief. He hadn’t seen the banner last night. The Red Bull never had events like this. He walked to the bar, intending to get information. “Hey, Sheldon,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the sign. “What’s that about?”
“Hey, Anthony. We’re just having a get-together. You’ll come, of course. You should come, too,” Sheldon said to Luke.
“Saturday’s a club night,” replied Luke.
“Tell you what. Any Hades’ Spawn wants to come, half price. We’ve missed you guys here since you opened your clubhouse.”
“I’ll tell the guys.”
The back door opened and shut loudly. “You do that. Give me a sec; there’s a new customer. Have a seat wherever you like.” Sheldon bolted to the end of the bar.