I clear my throat. “You’re the only one who inputs the invoices into the computer system?”

“Me or Rob. Mostly me,” he answers, staring up at the ceiling tiles like they’re more interesting than I am.

“How do you book new appointments?”

“Phone.”

“No website? Social media?”

He shakes his head.

“Not even Facebook?”

Another head shake accompanied by an annoyed sigh.

I give him one of my mom’s ‘ahhh’s in response. The simple, judgemental sound conveys so much.

Devin’s focus snaps to me as he leans forward, the old chair squealing in objection yet again. That thing is going to collapse beneath him someday soon. His stare bores into me, but he doesn’t ask me to explain.

I shake my head. “To summarize, you set all appointments, input all invoices into the system, conduct all inventories and manage all scheduling and payroll.” I tick off each of his time-consuming jobs on my fingers. His frown deepens with each additional item on the list.

“So?”

“So, what happens when you’re not here?”

“I’m always here,” he deadpans.

“Always? I bet you’re too manly to even get sick, huh? Too tough. The flu knows better than to mess with you, Big Man?”

He looks down at the cement floor to hide his smirk. Seeing that tiny crack in his detached persona sends a shot of heat through my body, like the first sip of whiskey on a cold night. I feel warm and fuzzy. He is adorable and teasing him is my new favorite game. “Ever heard the one about all work and no play?”

He ignores me and turns to the ancient computer on the desk in front of him. Back to business. That’s my cue to take a tour of the shop, getting to know the people and things that make it tick.

“How long have you worked here?” I ask Sean, doodling on my notebook.

“About fifteen years now I guess,” he answers from under the hood of an older Volvo.

“Wow.”

Sean’s warm chuckle fills the bay where we’re talking. His gruff voice and the deep lines around his face give away the years he’s spent smoking behind the shop. His long auburn hair is pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Sean is a sweet old hippie.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to find another missed call from Trevor that I’m too chicken to answer. I’ve been a flake and I’ve got a guilt trip coming my way. I bailed on a handful of lectures and two study groups this week. I shoot him a quick text to let him know I’m not going to make it again tonight. I blame my Marketing Principles project, but Devin’s the real reason behind my shuffled priorities. I tuck my phone back into my pocket and try to give Sean my undivided attention.

“Seems like most of you guys have been around for a minute. Guess Rob is a pretty good boss, then.”