Apples & Oranges (The This & That Series) (3 page)

“Are you joking?” I peered out the garage doors to where a bright blue and white tow truck was parked across the lot. “Why can’t you hop into that truck right there and get it?”

Demo started to squat back down onto the creeper. “Busted hose.”

“So it doesn’t work?” I snapped.

“It will once I get to it.”

I started to tap my foot. “Come on. I’ve got to get back to work.”

Demo stood back upright, and leveled me with a steely gaze. “Sorry.”

Growling, I pulled my checkbook out of my purse. “Al
l right. Fine. How much will it take to get you to do it?”

“You can put that away, lady.”

Jutting my chin out at Demo, I whipped out a pen. “I’ll pay you twice what your towing fee is.”

“Sorry. Truck’s busted.” He kicked the creeper again.
“I’ll…uh… hurry. I guess.”

“
You’ll hurry,
you guess
? Don’t you have another truck?” I fished my platinum card out. “Maybe you don’t take checks. How about Mastercard? I’ll pay triple your fee. I’ve got to get back to work.”

Trey released a low whistle. “That’s a butt load of money, Demo.”

“Shut up, kid,” Demo growled. “Listen, I’m sorry, all right? You can’t just throw money around here. It doesn’t work like that, lady.”

“My name is Marisol.” My molars ground together. “And you heard the boy. It’s a
butt load
of money.”

Demo shook his head. “You may be able to wave your gold card around elsewhere, but around here, it won’t work. I’ll tow your car once the hose is fixed in the truck. Which will be
once I get these
other cars
running
.
”

My hands went to my hips. “Hey, what’s your problem?”

He matched my pose, casting a shadow over me. “This is a first come, first serve garage. And you’re at the back of the line.”

I leaned closer to him. He smelled like sweat and gasoline an
d something else totally masculine that made my stomach tie itself into a square knot, against my wishes. “So
move me
to the front of the line.”

“
Sorry, no.” Demo leaned forward as well. We were practically chest to chest, which would’ve been exciting, had I not wanted to clock him in the face. I’d have been intimidated, were I not so pissed.

I never gave up. Ever. When I was a child, my father described me as a “bulldog with a bone
,” and things hadn’t changed much with age. When people said Eats & Treats was too small a company to handle their events, I low-bidded, then over delivered to prove them wrong. Everything I did, I did fearlessly and over-the-top. I’d learned by watching my father buy and sell commercial real estate in some of America’s hottest cities with the ruthlessness of a serial killer and the skill of a fine artist. He used to tell me that taking no for an answer was
never
an option.

I lowered my voice to a deadly decibel. “Yes.”

“No.”

Though I hated to admit it, I was taken aback. This jerk off was being rude. Like,
really
rude. I wasn’t used to men despising me upon sight. Usually it took a while, after a half dozen dates or so. I’d been called the B word more than my fair share of times, and most of those times I’d actually deserved it.

But never once had I repelled a man the way I was apparently repelling Demo Anton…
Antop… Ann…

Whatever the hell his name was.

Time for a change in my approach. Taking a deep breath, I let my shoulders drop, and forced my scowl to melt into a smile. My narrowed eyes morphed into the heavy lidded gaze I used more often than I cared to admit, and I touched a fingertip to Demo’s chest.

Oh my. That’s firm.

Wait. Focus, Marisol.

“Listen,” I purred. “Can’t we come to an agreement? Why don’t you let your nephew take over the Honda, and you can slap a new hose into the tow truck for me?”

His honey brown eyes widened. “What?”

“Then after we get my car, you can run me to my job, and get back in time to fix my Be
emer before I’m even ready for our dinner.” Batting my eyelash extensions, I let my palm rest on Demo’s chest, soaking up his warmth.

“Dinner?”
he growled.

“Uh huh.” Smiling, I tossed my hair. Just a little. “Where are you taking me?” I felt a thump underneath my palm and did a mental fist pump.
Worked like a charm. Like always.

Demo’s hand caught my wrist, making me gasp.

Okay, that was kinda hot. Maybe Annalise was wrong about blue-collar men.

Then he guided it—not so gently—back down to my side. “You honestly think I’m going to fall for that?”
              Heat washed over my face. “I… well, yeah.” I didn’t even have a smart-mouthed response for Demo. This was new territory for me.

Trey laughed, and the engine he was working on muffled the sound. “I would have.”

Snorting, I hissed, “Then
you
should’ve offered to fix the tow truck before Dudley Do-right got involved.”

Demo raked a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Look, lady—”

“Marisol,” I barked. Rude bastard. I’d said my name at least three times already.

“Look,
Marisol
, you’re fourth in line.” He backed away from me, and scooped up a rusted tool off of the ground. “I’ll get you car as soon as I can, then I’ll call you with an estimate. If you don’t like what I can do, you’re free to take your business somewhere else.”

“But Demo, there aren’t any garages for, like, seven miles.” Trey raised his head and banged it on the truck hood.
Again. “Ow. Damn.”

“
Then that’s something she might need to consider.”

I looked down at my feet and grimaced. They were already black on the bottom, and my pedicure was shot. And thanks to this peculiar little mid spring heat wave, I’d already tested the capability of my deodorant enough for one day. Plus, if I didn’t get back to Eats & Treats soon,
Lexie was going to serve my backside on a platter with beluga and water crackers at tomorrow’s wedding.

Releasing a long, guttural sigh, I rolled my eyes at Demo-the-mechanic. “Fine. Have it your way.”

One of his eyebrows tugged upward. “You sure ‘bout that, your majesty?”

My hands clenched into fists involuntarily. I hated being at this jerk’s mercy. “I don’t really have another choice, do I?”

“Well then, like I said, leave your keys on the desk with your number.” Demo turned away from me, and I spotted the edge of a huge tattoo that sat between his shoulder blades. It looked like Greek lettering, and I couldn’t make out what the symbol was, but was surprised it wasn’t something random and tacky. Guys like this had ink of the silver naked lady holding a bong or the Tasmanian Devil covered in blood. Tacky crap like that. This Demo character had kitsch written all over him.

“Got it. And don’t think we’re doing that dinner anymore, big guy. You
lost your shot.” Striding past Trey, who was watching us with pointed interest from underneath his alcove of engine, I slammed my keys down onto the filthy metal desk sitting near the office door. Then I bent at the waist making sure he had a perfect view of my backside while I scribbled my number onto a dusty scrap of paper with a chewed up pencil.

“
I’ll try to deal with the disappointment.” He squatted back down on the creeper.

“Right,” I said through grit teeth, turning towards the open garage doors to leave. “
Now to find a payphone. There's no way I'm using that
culo limpie’s
phone right now.” I added that last part under my breath as I padded towards the sunlight, in search of a payphone.

“What does my being an asshole have anything to do with you needing a payphone?” Demo called from behind me.

I froze and shot a lethal glare over my shoulder. For the first time since emerging from under that Honda, Demo Anton…ant…on…pop….
whatever his last name was
, was smiling as he lay half covered by the dented blue metal.

“You speak Spanish?” I snarled.

“Yup. Greek, too.” His smile faded. “Surprised, Princess?”

A plethora of snarky responses came to mind, but I decided to go for the jugular this time. “No. You can learn anything in prison. I’ll bet you made some lovely license plates, too. Maybe even the one on my Be
emer.”

He rolled himself back under the Honda, and out of sight. “
Oκύλα.”

Smirking, I took off walking across the hot pavement in my bare feet
, his laughter ringing out behind me. If he thought I didn’t know he’d just called me a bitch in Greek, he was more stupid than I’d pegged him to be.

Like
I said, I’d been called that plenty of times before.

Chapter Three

             
“I think he’s gay.” I threw a handful of shelled peas into the bowl with more strength than I anticipated and they rolled back out the other side.

             
“Easy there, turbo.” Lexie looked at me with raised eyebrows.

When I’d marched into work three hours later than promised, she’d been ready to live up to her redhead
ed reputation. I could practically smell the curse words in the air. But one look at my blackened feet and sweat soaked blouse, and her anger had quickly melted into amusement. Apparently riding a city bus back to work without shoes or my blessed iPhone was punishment enough, and she’d promptly handed me a water bottle. Now we were working into the evening to get ready for an event the next day.

“You know, just because a man doesn’t roll over and let you scratch his belly the minute you look at him doesn’t make him gay,” Candace said, picking up the stray peas.

I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t his belly I was planning on scratching.”

She was usually the voice of reason between the three of us, mostly because she was the mother of three kids and constantly had to break up fights between the little bugg
ers. But she had the whole cooperation thing down pat, compared to Lexie and me. You see, Lexie had only been married to Fletcher about a year, and she and her husband had a blended family with two kids. The closest I’d ever been to an altar was standing in as my mother’s maid-of-honor in her fourth wedding.

Or was that her
sixth? Oh, well. It didn’t really matter.

Usually at the first sign of contention in a relationship, I was out the door, a habit
Candace had been trying to break me of for years. Especially when I dated Lexie’s husband, Fletcher. Yeah. I dated
Doctor
Fletcher Haybee before Lexie married him. It sounds weirder than it actually was. The man wouldn’t lay a hand on me, because he was so obsessed with my waif-like friend, and by the time we broke up, I was so sexually frustrated, I would’ve made out with a bum.

I didn’t. But I could have.

Lexie plopped another basket of fresh sugar snap peas in front of me. “Maybe he just wasn’t interested.”

“That never happens.” I pointed an empty pod at her. When she smiled innocently at me over her shoulder, I added, “Until Fletcher came along. Damn him.”
              She giggled. “He threw off your mojo.”

Tossing a handful of pods over my head, I groaned dramatically. I was good at dramatic. “He did! Don’t you understand how frustrating that is?”

It wasn’t that I thought I was the most attractive woman in the world. Far from it. If I thought I was beautiful, I wouldn’t go see my dermatologist every month, and I wouldn’t have had injected fat from my butt into my lips three years ago. I wouldn’t pay up the nose for hair extensions dyed the perfect shade of caramel to match my eyes, or fork out what most spend on their mortgage for a handbag that I may or may not sleep with at night. No. I didn’t do those things because I felt good about myself. I did them because every time I looked in the mirror, all I saw was my Grandma Rosia’s nose and my father’s downturned mouth—and surgery could only fix the nose so much. I saw cellulite on my thighs and eyebrows that needed weekly waxing because they’re being pulled together like magnets. When I laughed, I sounded like a braying donkey, and when I spoke, I had a low tone that I’d once heard referred to as a “blow job voice.”

I wanted it to be a compliment, but honestly,
I was pretty sure it wasn’t.

I feigned confidence to cover up that I wasn’t sure I really liked myself at all. I bought designer clothes and drove a
now useless Beemer to prove that I was every bit as glamorous and desirable as my mother, and every bit as successful and independent as my father.

Losing Fletcher to
Lexie hadn’t ruined my mojo. The truth was, I’d never really had it in the first place.

“Maybe you should go out with his nephew,” Candace suggested, pushing out a stoo
l and sitting down next to me. “Whatever his name was. You said he was cute in a gawky kind of way.”

“It was Trey.” I blew a strand of hair back from my eyes. “And he
was
cute. But he was also nineteen.”

“Whatever.”
Lexie laughed. “You always say you’re looking for a cougar opportunity.”

Rolling my eyes, I dropped another handful of peas into the bowl. “Please. It’s called a
cougartunity
. And nineteen it too young for my blood.”

Candace shook her head. “My ear doth deceive me.”

I snarled down at my hands. “It shouldn’t even matter that he doesn’t want me. I don’t want him, either.”

“But he was hot.”
Lexie popped a pea in her mouth. I shot her a look, so she added, “I mean, that’s what you said. And usually when a guy is attractive, you’re all over that like white on rice.”

“Hot doesn’t really begin to cover it.” I used a pea pod to feign fanning myself. “Seriously, you guys. Demo had the whole rough-around-the-edges thing happening.”

“Dee-mo?” Lexie scrunched up her nose. “What kind of name is that?”

“Greek, right?” Candace looked at me for confirmation.

Nodding, I tugged open another pod. “It’s short for Demetrious. And I can’t for the life of me remember his last name, since it had about forty-two syllables.”

“
Antonopulous,” Candace said triumphantly.

I gaped at her. “How did you know that?”

She tossed a handful of peas into the bowl triumphantly. “Triple D’s garage, right?”

“You were stalking me today.” I smiled despite myself. “You watched me walk around with no shoes, sweating like a sumo wrestler running laps. What kind of a friend are you?”

“Shut up. I did not.” Candace laughed, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. “One of Brian’s patients recommended that place, so he took our minivan there last year. He met Demo once or twice.”

My stomach twirled. What the crap was that about? I didn’t even know the guy, much less like him, and I was whirling like a top at the mention of his name. This was embarrassing. “Oh, yeah? What did you think?”

Lexie’s eyes widened. “You like him.”

“I do not.” I shoved a pea pod into my mouth. “He and I were not exactly simpatico. Complete opposites. Like apples and oranges, we were.”

“Yes, you do.” She snickered. “Your voice cracked. Besides apples and oranges are both fruit.”
              “Apples are sweet, and oranges are acidic. Totally different. And my voice cracked because that Demo character’s got the keys to my car,” I lied. “So, Candace, as you were saying…”

She and
Lexie exchanged a look. “Well,” she said. “Brian told me he was a bit gruff.”

Snorting, I reached for the fresh ears of corn I had to shuck. “That’s an understatement.”

“But he does excellent work.” Candace reached for a corn. “The van purrs like a kitten now. And Demo does work on trade when people can’t afford him. Brian said he once put in a new transmission for a veteran just for serving our country.”

One of my eyebrows pricked upward. So there was a nice guy underneath Demo’s hard, crusty exterior. It was too bad he was such an ass, because it was impossible for anyone to know there was a nice guy in there.

“He sounds pretty great, Mar.” Lexie folded some crème fraiche into the shelled peas. “Maybe you should consider asking him out.”

I pressed a hand to my chest. “
Me
ask
him
out? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Marisol doesn’t ask men out.” Candace ripped a leaf off of an ear. “They always ask her, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.” Lexie grinned at me. “No wonder you’re so bent out of shape.”

“I’m not bent out of shape.” Sighing, I dr
agged my hand down my face, leaving streaks of mascara on my palm. “I’m just… just… okay, fine. I’m bent out of shape.”

“Aha! I knew it!”
Lexie slapped her hand down on the stainless steel table. “You like him.”

Candace gasped. “Do you really?”

“No.
No
, I do not.” I plucked up a few strands of corn silk. “He’s a jerk. A big one. I can think of a few obscenities that describe Demo Antonopolous perfectly. But I won’t say them in present company.” I nodded my head in the direction of the playpen that was set up in the corner of the kitchen, where Lexie’s baby was snoring away.

“You’re getting soft.” Candace yanked another leaf. “Ever since
Lexie had Ian, you’ve stopped swearing so much.”

Rolling my eyes, I folded my arms across my chest. “
Go to hell. I have not.”
              “Yes, you have.” Lexie nodded. “The other day you spelled out
penis head
.”

“She did?” Candace put her arm around me and squeezed me tight. “Oh, Marisol, I’m so proud of you.”

Cringing, I wriggled out of her grip. “Okay, okay. Come on. You know how I feel about affection and all that.” She giggled and let go, so I smoothed my hair down casually. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t like Demo. But he’s nice to look at. And he could be cruising all over Spokane right now in my car.”

Lexie
stopped stirring. “I thought your car was broken down?”

“It is.” I shook my head. “You’re missing the point.”

“Well, get to it,” laughed Candace.

“My point is,” I said. “Demo acts like a total bastard, and I’m pretty sure he’s got a Tasmanian devil tattoo on his back
hidden beneath some Greek lettering, which knocks him further up on the douche scale. But he’s also gorgeous. And I loves me a gorgeous man, am I right, or am I right?”

“Right,” they both said in unison.

“You’re sort of known for your impeccable taste in men,” Candace pointed out. “You tend to stalk any prey wearing an Armani suit, and you don’t stop until you’ve torn him to shreds.”

“Which begs me to ask…”
Lexie added some fresh chives to her mixture. “Isn’t this mechanic a little bit…” She bit her lip and winced. “You know, below your standards?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

“Calm down.” Candace touched my shoulder. “What Lex is trying to say is, didn’t you once tell us that Annalise taught you not to date below a certain standard?”

Lexie
nodded. “Which is why you wouldn’t go out with the garbage man when he asked.”
              “He was pretty fine, too,” Candace agreed.

Embarrassment pressed down on my shoulders, and I had to force myself to stay sitting up straight. I didn’t want to show my friends that I was embarrassed
by my behavior. I worked hard to appear cocky all the time.

“Maybe I’m trying to change that.” When both Candace and
Lexie looked at me curiously, I added, “About myself. I’m trying to stop snubbing people because of my mother’s stupid rules. Where have her rules gotten her?”

“Good point,”
Lexie said at the same time Candace blurted, “Kudos to you, Mar.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered.

Lexie tossed a pea in my direction. “It’s good to see you broadening your horizons. There’s a whole world of blue collar men you’re missing out on.”

“I’m not saying I’m going to start at the top of the list and work my way down.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d been in a funk all day, beginning when I sat down with my mother at the restaurant and cresting when Demo-the-mechanic rejected my advances. It didn’t matter that I’d only been trying to score faster towing. Now that I knew he didn’t want me, I wanted him. How
screwed up was that?

“Want to go out with the guy who cleaned our gutters last spring?” Candace asked, picking up the stray pea
Lexie threw, and popping it in my mouth. “He was cute. In a parolee sort of way.”

“
Ooooh, an ex con.” Lexie’s eyes lit up. “That’s a good starting point.”

“Is that all you guys think of me?” My eyes bounced between both of their faces a few times. “That I’m just your slutty friend who is going to hump her way through the garbage men and landscapers in town?”

They blinked at me. “Um.” Lexie swallowed a mouthful of crème fraiche, a smile ticking the corners of her mouth. “No?”

I tore some corn silk off of an ear. “That sounded convincing.”

Candace bumped shoulders with me. “Come on. Let your old, married friends live vicariously through you. It’s not every day we get to seduce men with the use of our prowess, like you.”

“Just once I’d like to be able to talk Fletcher into bed in Spanish,”
Lexie announced, wistfully staring off into space.

“It doesn’t work.” I smirked at her, despite myself. “I tried,
remember?”

“It sure didn’t.” Candace snorted. “Brian tries to talk dirty to me in Mandarin, but it always sounds like he’s cussing me out.”