CHAPTER 16
Because there isn't much a mechanic with a broken arm can do besides get in the way, Zee sent me to the office to work on my paperwork. I didn't get much done there either, but at least-as Zee put it-I wasn't whining at him.
He wouldn't tell me anything about his dagger or who Adelbert was and why he needed smiting-and I hadn't been able to find it on the Internet, either. When I got persistent, Zee told me he liked the modern era, with its steel and electricity, better than the old days because there was more for a Metallzauber, a gremlin, to do than build swords to kill other folk. Then he exiled me to the office and went back to fixing cars.
I am right-handed, and it was my right arm that was broken. I couldn't even use it to hold a piece of paper still because the doctor at the emergency room insisted I wear my arm strapped to my side. I even had to type on my computer using one hand-which made it painstakingly slow to do any work. So I used the computer to play Vegas-style solitaire and lost two thousand dollars of imaginary money, instead.
It was probably not the best moment for Gabriel Sandoval to show up. I'd forgotten I'd told his mother to send him over Monday after school.
He had to wait until I typed in their bill, then an hourly wage that looked fair to me. It would give him twenty hours to work off, though, and that seemed too much to me. So I added a couple of dollars an hour, until the time looked better.
I printed it out and handed it to him. He looked it over and crossed off the salary and replaced it with the original one. "I'm not worth that yet," he said. "But I will be by the end of the first month."
I reassessed him. He wasn't tall, and he'd never be a big man, but there was something solid about him, as young as he was.
"All right," I said. "It's a deal."
I showed him around the office, which took all of five minutes. Then I sat him down at the computer and ran him through my inventory program and my billing system. When he seemed to have the hang of it, I gave him my stacks of paperwork and left him to it.
I walked back into the shop and tilted my thumb at the office when Zee looked up.
"I think I've found Tad's replacement," I told him. "I gave him my paperwork, and he didn't even growl at me."
Zee raised his eyebrows. "Tad never growled at you."
" 'Damn it, Mercy, can't you remember to give me the bills the day you get them? " I quoted in my best crabby-Tad voice.
"You'd think someone raised around werewolves would know the difference between growling and swearing," Zee observed. He put down his wrench and sighed. "I'm worried about that boy. You know he got that scholarship so they could have their token fae to tow around and point out."
"Probably," I agreed. "They'll never know what hit them."
"You think he's all right?"
"I can't imagine a place where Tad wouldn't be all right. Nothing scares him, nothing bothers him, and he's frighteningly competent at whatever he chooses to do." I patted Zee on the back. I enjoyed watching him play nervous father. This was a conversation we'd been having since Tad left for Harvard. I kept track of them and e-mailed Tad with a count once a week.
I heard the office door open and waved Zee to silence so we could listen to how my new office lackey dealt with customers.
"Can I help you?" he said in a smooth, dark voice that surprised me. I hadn't expected him to flirt.
But then I heard Jesse say, "I'm here looking for Mercy-she didn't tell me she had someone new working for her."
There was a short pause, then Gabriel said in a sharp voice, "Who hit you?"
Jesse laughed and said lightly, "Don't worry. My dad saw the bruise, and the person who hit me is dead now."
"Good." Gabriel sounded as though he wouldn't have minded if it had been the truth. Which it was.
"I have someone waiting for me in the car," she said. "I'd better go talk to Mercy."
She came into the shop with a thoughtful look on her face. "I like him," she said.
I nodded. "Me, too. Nice haircut."
We'd stopped by Warren's house after cleanup at the tree farm to find Jesse minus the duct tape that had still been stuck to her hair-and also minus most of her hair. Warren had looked… well, he ought to have looked ashamed, but there had been amusement in his eyes.
Jesse rolled her eyes at me. "Who'd have thought a gay man couldn't cut hair." She ran her fingers through the inch-long strands that had been tipped with a glittery gold color. She looked like a flapper from the 1920s wearing one of those beaded caps.
"He told you he didn't know how to give haircuts," I said, as she walked over and kissed Zee on the cheek.
"I got it fixed the next day." She grinned at me, then she lost her smile. "Dad called Mom yesterday and told her what happened. Everything that happened."