Havoc (Tattoos and Ties 1)

“I sell quite a few of these. They’re a good price and have an eighty-thousand-mile treadwear warranty. By going through us, after the warranty runs out, we’ll patch ’em for free if you have a problem. All you gotta do’s call,” Keyes explained, using his well-rehearsed speech. That was really all he had by way of a sales pitch. He waited as she chewed on her lipstick-covered lip, wondering if he should again mention the discount they were giving her. Luckily, she finally nodded, giving a small, reassuring smile.

“Let’s do the four.”

Keyes confirmed her decision with a nod of his own. He finished ordering the tires on his phone before pulling up his customer profile application and extending his hand, giving her his phone. “Give me your info, and I’ll call you when they come in.”

“Do I bring the car back or will you come pick it up?” she asked, taking the phone, her fingers moving over the screen as she entered her data.

“Whichever you want.”

“You guys are really easy to work with. I was intimidated when I came in. A woman in my office uses you and referred me. I was nervous, but you made it better. Thank you.”

The words were everything Keyes wanted to hear. He gave another nod of appreciation when she looked up. He even cracked a smile, something he only reserved for times like these, and her smile grew wider as she stared up at him.

“What’s your name? That way I can ask for you when I come back.”

“They call me Key, but I’m always here. No problem.”

“That’s an unusual name,” she said, grinning up at him.

The moment got awkward, because that was all he had. Keyes shifted his body toward her SUV, extending a hand, afraid he’d have to partake in small talk if she continued to stand there. Luckily, his service man was lowering the jack. “You’re ready.”

“Do I pay you for this?” she asked, handing over his phone before fishing through her purse.

“Nah. We’ll take the tire back when the new ones come in,” Keyes said, pivoting back toward her. He’d already turned away, heading to the next waiting car.

“Do I pay for the other tires now?” she asked, giving a wave of the credit card in her hand.

Damn, she was making this too hard. People always did that. They added layers of complication to very simple tasks. Keyes just shook his head and walked backward to the next vehicle. “Later.”

“So I’m done?”

This time he had to hold in his frustration. Way too many words. Keyes had to force himself to stop at the hood of the next car, a new customer stepping out from behind the wheel. He gave another silent exaggerated nod to the woman, before cocking his head toward her driver’s seat, encouraging her back into her ride.

“Thank you!”

“You’re backin’ shit up,” his old man bellowed from the bench where he parked himself all day, every day. “Get movin’, boy!” Then he tapped out a cigarette and lit it—with his oxygen tank nearby.

Everyone within the potential hazard radius to his old man took a step back. Keyes just shook his head. He had learned to pick his battles. They’d have that fight tonight in the privacy of their home. Right now, they had a line forming on the street. He had work to do.

=?=

Alec Pierce stood at the full-length mirror in his closet, adding diamond-encrusted cufflinks to each of his dress shirt sleeves. Cufflinks he’d never choose to own, let alone wear. The gaudy pieces of jewelry were a generous—her word not his—Christmas gift from his mother. As far as Alec was concerned, they were as ostentatious as she was, but she’d attend the gathering this evening, and without question, she’d eye his cuffs the second he walked through the door to make sure they were there. If not, he’d hear about their absence for the remainder of the evening and quite possibly the rest of his entire life.

“You owe me,” Blaine Crawford, his best friend, said as he came to the doorway of his bedroom, dropping his shoulder against the doorframe.

“I do,” Alec agreed for the second time in the last ten minutes.

“I mean, I’m expecting something big out of this. Like remember Steven? You go out with that friend of his…”

“No. Stop right there,” Alec said, putting an end to that line of thinking before Blaine could even get the thought out.

Alec gave himself a critical once-over before lifting his hands, moving a few gelled strands of hair around until he was pleased with his appearance. He looked young but respectable. The only trendy thing he wore was his styled sandy blond hair. The long on top look so popular today actually accented his face remarkably well. He had strayed from the classic cuts he’d always worn—growing out the top, keeping the sides cut short—much to the dismay of his entire snobby family.