His Indecent Proposal (Sold To The Sheikh 1)

"Uh, sure," Mia said, trying to recall the details in question. "It's-ah-a '99 Volvo sedan. I think it's an S70?"

"That sounds about right," Lenny said. "Color?"

"Dark green?hunter green, I think you'd call it." On the other end of the line, Mia heard papers rustling, and Lenny muttering notes to himself.

"You can go ahead and bring it in first thing tomorrow morning," he said. "It's still drivable, right?"

"Oh-yeah, I don't think anything under the hood is messed up, just the back end." She swallowed. "And you're sure that Rami is set to pay for this, right?"

"Absolutely," Lenny said, and Mia heard the reassurance in the older man's voice. "Rami gets into scrapes like this from time to time. I've told him he should trade in that Tesla thing for something more practical-or at least something with front-end collision control! But you know how some guys are."

Mia chuckled. "Yeah," she said. "I know. So what time do you open tomorrow morning?"

"Since it's a weekend, we'll be open from nine," Lenny said. "I've got a spot in reserve for you, so if you can't make it in right then, you've still got priority. Rami insisted. I can't make any guarantees, of course, but based on what he said about the damage, I should be able to get it done in a few hours."

"Thank you," Mia said, smiling to herself. "I'll get it there right when you open. I don't want to put you out."

"No trouble there," Lenny said. Mia heard the squeak of a desk chair tilting back. "If you need someone to pick you up?"

"I think I should be fine," Mia said, waving her hand to brush the idea aside, even though she knew Lenny couldn't see her. "Thank you so much for being so accommodating."

Lenny laughed again, a rich, hearty chuckle. "No problem," he said. "I'll expect you at nine. If you'll excuse me, I should get these parts ordered for you before I leave the shop."

"Thank you again," Mia said. "I hope you have a great night!" She ended the call feeling much more comfortable than she had when she started it. Mia plugged her phone into its charger and kicked off her shoes, striding through the small living room of her little house and into her bedroom. She flipped the light switch on and yawned, stretching and twisting against the soreness in her body, a mixture of the aches from the accident the night before and the stress of standing up and walking around in circles for most of the day.

She decided to make good on what she had said to Rami-a nice, long bath would do her a lot of good. She stripped her clothes off quickly, tossing them into the hamper in front of her closet on the way to the bathroom. She turned on the water and waited a moment or two for it to heat up before she pushed the plug into the drain and let the tub begin to fill. One of the few luxuries she allowed herself was a small collection of bath salts and bubbles: it was a cheap way to give herself something nice, and Mia had justified the occasional three or five dollars based on the fact that she was buying a luxury at less than a dollar per use. She picked a jar of pink salts perfumed with sandalwood and neroli and poured about half a cup of the potent, fragrant granules into the hot water.

As she waited for the bath to fill, Mia thought about the strange man who'd collided with her the evening before. Rami al-Hassan was handsome, there was no doubt about it; and obviously he was wealthy. But he seemed-at least on her first impression-like kind of a spoiled brat. He had been more concerned with the damage to his expensive car than he was with the fact that he had slammed into someone else. "Did he say it was a Tesla?" Mia shook her head in wonder; she knew in passing that that particular model of car started out at around $100,000-and with customizations was often much, much more. Her entire salary for three or more years might not be enough to buy one. And the mechanic had mentioned that Rami had gotten into more than one accident in the past. Not that that's surprising, Mia thought, considering he had slammed into her at a stop sign and then had the audacity to yell at her for, of all things, having stopped.

Mia turned off the faucet and sank down into the water, breathing in the fragrant steam and letting the tension flow out of her muscles. For a few moments, at least, she would avoid thinking about the stresses she had to deal with: her mother's poor health and mounting bills; her unruly, unwilling students; the enormous student loans she still had to repay. She would float in the water and think about nothing at all. Mia yawned again and told herself firmly that she was not going to let herself fall asleep in the hot, soft-feeling water.

Despite her resolution, Mia was so exhausted that within fifteen minutes, she had drifted out of her lazy doze and into actual sleep, the lip of the tub holding her head up and out of the water. She was never sure how long she slept, but when she awoke with a jolt-coming out of a dream that ended with a replay of the accident she'd had the day before-the water was cold around her, and her stomach was growling with hunger. She climbed out and wrapped a robe around herself, checking her phone to see that her mother had called while she'd been napping. She told herself that, since the message didn't sound like an emergency, she would have dinner before returning her mother's call. Mia rummaged in her fridge, freezer, and cabinets until she was able to put together a reasonable meal of rice, peas and a fried egg, liberally seasoned with hot sauce. She yawned, still tired in spite of her nap, and devoured her somewhat bland dinner, psyching herself up to tackle all of the things she needed to do over the weekend. First things first: call Mom and tell her about the car. Maybe she'll be well enough to come and get you at the shop.