Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I was silent, mulling over her words. It made sense. I had always wondered why I had so few women customers. Maybe Charly was onto something. She’d obviously given the idea a great deal of thought, but I wasn’t ready to give in just yet. She would never expect me to capitulate so easily. I hadn’t growled near enough yet to please her. And for some reason, I wanted to please her. On lots of levels.
She clicked to another page, and I studied it. “I thought we agreed I would set the prices,” I said, my voice low and challenging.
“Holy moly, I just filled them in—they’re suggestions.” She sounded frustrated. “Maxx, I checked every garage within a ten-mile radius of you. I got Brett to get me the price lists in Toronto. Even if you raised your prices to what I have listed here, you’re still one of the lowest around. And with my projections, your profits go up substantially—even with paying Brett.” She slid a paper my way. “You can even afford to hire another body and concentrate on the restorations. Those profit projections are on the back.”
I studied the page, then turned it over and whistled. “Are you sure these are accurate?”
“If we bring in more customers and produce a higher output, yes.”
I scrubbed my face. “You’re asking for a lot here, Charly.”
“What do you have to lose, Maxx? If I’m wrong, you let Brett and his friend go. You fire me, and you go back to business as usual. Easy peasy. If I’m right, you get to free up your time and do what you love and have the garage too. We’re already seeing an increase in business with Brett here. He let some of his customers who lived this side of Toronto know where he was working, and they came here. Others will too. The same with his friend. Add in the new advertising I’m planning, the outreach to the women of the community, and I see a real upswing.”
I grunted, letting her know I was thinking. Part of me was so damn proud of her, I wanted to kiss her. She was brilliant, and she had no idea. When I placed that ad, I had no clue. I had hoped for someone to upgrade the website a little. Tidy the office. Cook a few meals. Maybe help sort out that part of my life so I could sort out the mess in my head.
She had stepped in and, with her mouthy, quirky attitude, became more than I dared to wish for. She had become something vitally important to me. She was more than I hoped for—and way better than I deserved.
She was simply Charly. And that, I realized, was something incredibly special.
Even if she drove me mental most of the time.
I was quiet too long, and she started rambling in that nervous way of hers.
“We can adjust the pricing. It was only a suggestion.”
I grunted.
“Brett could handle the women’s classes. They’d love him. Easy on the eyes, funny, and sweet. He’d bring them in in droves. Tall, good-looking, and that curly blond hair and his blue eyes? They’ll love it.”
I glared at her. She thought he was easy on the eyes? And when did she decide she liked blond hair and blue eyes?
A small rumble emitted from my mouth.
“With any luck, his friend will look good in the coveralls I plan on them wearing. We women love a man in a uniform.”
“Coveralls are not uniforms.” I scowled.
“Oh, but they are.” She warmed to the subject. “A hot, sexy, somewhat greasy mechanic in a pair of overalls talking about tightening your fan belt? Or your overheating chassis? Total turn-on. We’ll pack them in.”
“What if I taught the courses, Charly?” I asked through gritted teeth. “How would they do then?”
She fanned herself. “All growly and rough? Telling them to make sure to change their oil regularly and rotate their tires for optimal performance? We’d be booked solid, and they’d all request the grouchy bear-man.”
I cursed under my breath, shifting in my chair, feeling my erection kick up. I was going to show her an optimal performance, all right.
“So,” she began. “Next. The new logo is fun. Eye-catching. Maybe a little sexy,” she stated. “You know—to attract new customers.”
“Performance Guaranteed?” I snarled.
She licked her lips. “It’s true. You are, ah, good, with your, um, tools.”
Instantly, the conversation took on a totally different meaning.
“Even when I’m hard as steel, Red?” I questioned, my voice gruff.
The way I am right now? I wanted to add, feeling my cock pressing against the material of my sweats.
“Oh.” She looked confused. “Well, you’re a little…ah, it depends on, you know… the kind of mood you’re in. Sometimes, you’re faster than others. Your tools are, um, good. I mean, great. Well-handled. And you always satisfy. I mean, the job is always well done.” She stuttered and stammered.