I burst out onto the road and swiveled my head from left to right, resembling a scene from the Exorcist. Which would be the least likely path Oliver would think I’d take? I saw the sign for Drake’s Garage and pushed my legs to go as fast as they could carry me. Which wasn’t quick, though better than walking.
The garage was a bit out of town, and so was the bed-and-breakfast Oliver was staying at. For once in my life, luck seemed to be on my side, because one of my best friends, Stella, was working at the garage for a few weeks. Oliver hadn’t met any of my friends so I thought he wouldn’t know to look for me there. I burst into her office, shouting, “Stella, hide me. Now.”
And since she was one of the good ones, she pushed me under her desk and put the chair in front of me, asking no questions. I was small enough to fit without a problem and let out a deep breath.
“I’ll explain later,” I said while curling up into a ball. This was definitely one of the low points in my life. Damn you, Oliver.
The huge desk was enclosed on three sides, which made it an excellent place to hide. I heard Stella’s voice above me, keeping up the charade. “Sorry, we’re closed.”
“Where is Maisie?” Oliver’s deep voice sounded from the other side of the desk.
“I don’t know. Have you tried the bakery three streets over?” she asked, never missing a beat. Damn, she was good.
“I saw her run in here.”
“Can I help you?” another voice asked. It sounded like Mason, but I wasn’t sure.
“Hi, I’m Oliver Thorpe. I’m looking for Maisie.”
“As in Thorpe Holdings?” maybe-Mason asked. There was awe in his voice. Why was there awe in his voice? Did he know something I didn’t?
“The very one,” Oliver responded.
“Nice to meet you. If you want to book your car, Stella is happy to do that for you.”
“No she’s not. Stella needs to close the office and go home,” my bestest of the best friends said.
“Thanks, but I don’t need any work done on my car. Only bought it a few weeks ago,” Oliver said. “I really need to talk to Maisie though.”
“Her name is Stella,” maybe-Mason said.
“Nice to meet you, Stella. Now can I talk to Maisie?”
I was getting uncomfortable but was too afraid to move. It was humiliating enough being a grown-ass woman who was hiding under a desk.
The muffled conversation continued, and then Stella said, “Not sure when I saw her last, sorry.”
Gotta love her commitment. But at this stage, we both knew the jig was up. Yet here I was, still crammed under her desk.
“Look, I saw her run in here. I know she’s hiding so she won’t have to talk to me,” Oliver said, and I heard something land on the desk. “Can you make sure she gets this?”
I heard Stella say, “Sure. No problem.” At least the torture was almost over.
“Thanks. And tell her I’ll see her at my sister’s birthday party,” Oliver said.
After a few more seconds, the front door closed, and Stella leaned down and pushed the chair out of the way, grinning.
“Who the hell was that?” she asked.
I struggled out from underneath the desk and avoided eye contact. “Just some guy.”
“Liar. I want to know what the hell is going on,” she said, knowing full well there was more to the story.
“Nothing is going on. He thinks he has some sort of claim on me, but he doesn’t. Now, can we forget this embarrassing scene ever happened? And promise not to tell anyone.”
Stella grinned and pointed behind me. “If you can convince him to keep quiet, you might have a shot.”
I jumped when I saw one of the owners of Drake’s Garage. I had already forgotten about the third voice and had hoped against hope that it wasn’t Mason. “What are you doing in the office? Don’t you have your mechanic thing to do?”
Mason narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s my garage, and I can be wherever I want to be. And right now, I want to be in the office because seems to me like Stella forgot she works here. Not sure why you’re here either.”
I stood up straight, not letting him intimidate me. “I’m visiting Stella to make sure you haven’t made her quit yet.”
“Still working on it.”
“Lucky I need the money,” Stella grumbled.
“Has Mommy finally cut you off?” Mason asked.
“Why don’t you get back to whatever it was you were doing before you came in here?” she asked, her face pinched.
“Gladly,” Mason drawled and left.
As soon as the door closed behind him with a loud bang, Stella’s shoulders slumped forward and she exhaled loudly.
“Seems like I’m not the only one keeping secrets,” I said.
“Ha, so you admit to keeping Mr. GQ a secret. I knew it.”
I grinned at Stella and took her hand. “Come on, seems like we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Should we head to The Grill?” she asked.
“What kind of question is that?” I answered and grinned.
Stella laughed and squeezed my hand. “I missed you these last few weeks. No more overseas internships.”
“I missed you too, Estrella, and there are no more trips in my future. Europe is overrated anyway. Now, I hope you have your car here, because Lincoln dropped me off.”
Stella’s dad was Colombian and died when she was little. Her mom erased any traces of him from their lives, which included speaking Spanish. Since Stella had already lost so much, Willa and I tried to find little ways of using Spanish words here and there. The nickname Estrella stuck after the first time Willa called
