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I’m faced away from her, so I roll my eyes. “Be back later.”

“Where are you going?”

“Brunch with friends,” I lie easily, and my mother hums in the back of her throat.

I rush to open the door and get out to my car, not wanting another sideways comment from her.

I love my mother, I really do, but she’s one of the most critical people in the whole world. And today, criticism is the last thing I need.

I’m trembling all the way there.

It’s a small, local place, nothing my parents would ever expect. It’s a small mechanic’s office, and they’re looking for a receptionist.

I’m fifteen minutes early, and I have an inner fight with myself about staying in the car for a while or going in.

Eventually, I decide to go in early, figure it shows punctuality. I take the deepest breath of fresh air and head into the office.

It’s small, just one story, and it’s about the size of my bedroom, if I’m honest. Desks sit just a few inches next to each other, but there’s a bay in the back which allows the mechanics to work on cars.

I smile brightly at the woman at the front desk.

She smiles back. “Hello, are you needing your car serviced?”

“No, ma’am. I’m here for an interview. I’m Meredith Whitlock?”

“Miss Whitlock! Yes, Dean is excited to see you today. You know you’re only one of two people who applied for the job.”

“I can’t imagine why.” But I actually can.

The shop is in kind of a bad part of town, but it's so far away from every place either of my parents frequents that it’s perfect for me.

I don’t want them to get even a whiff of my plans for a new life.

Dean Green, the owner, comes then and leads me to his office, where we sit on opposite sides of his desk. He gives me a half-smile that shows how handsome he must have been twenty years ago. He’s gone all white and wrinkled now, but something about that boyish smile tells me he used to be a looker.

“I know we’re kind of in a bad area, but I walk everyone to their cars at the end of the day. Is that a problem for you?”

“No, of course not. I think that’s very chivalrous of you, Mr. Green.”

His smile spreads across his face. “The missus used to say I was her knight in shining armor.”

“Oh, does she help you with the store?”

His face falls, smile getting smaller. “No, she passed about five years ago.”

My hand flies to my mouth. “I’m so sorry?—”

He shakes his head. “No apologies needed. She was a light in my life for the time we had.”

He asks me a few more questions and then looks at me curiously.

“You didn’t get your degree?”

I take a long breath. I expected this question but somehow, it still catches me off guard.

“I did not. I had plans to go to law school, but...” I’m not sure how to explain.

“Life happened?”